Europe | Greece’s hotspot

What happens after refugees arrive in Greece

The Economist visits the only operational “hotspot” in the country

|LESBOS

SINCE the number of migrants making their way to Europe through Greece ballooned in 2015, Greek and EU officials have been scrambling to cope. Late last year EU officials hit on the idea of a series of “hotspots”—centres where migrants are registered—to try to bring order to the chaos. Three have since opened in Italy (though only the one on the island of Lampedusa is fully functional) and one on the Greek island of Lesbos. On January 31st Greek officials said that, after months of delay, the country would get on with opening four more on the other islands; they claim all will be open by the spring. This week The Economist went to the one in Lesbos. What is it like, and does it work?

The Greek hotspot is in the Moria camp, a former military base about 15 minutes north of Mytilene, the biggest town in Lesbos. Outside the camp is the “Afghan hill”, where around a dozen tepees are set up and migrants, mostly from Afghanistan, wait to be bussed to the ferry that will take them to Athens. It is all rather ad hoc—with makeshift fires, signs made by volunteers advertising free stuff, and a playground for children.

Inside the camp it is rather different. The hotspot is sealed off by a tall metal fence and guarded by police. The facility is divided into three sections. The first, and largest, is for all Arabic-speaking migrants (mostly Syrians). The second is for Afghans and other Farsi-speakers; the third is for the few migrants who have applied to be transferred to other European countries under the “relocation” scheme which the EU launched last year.

At the first site migrants wait in a huge white tent (which can hold around 400 people). From there they are taken in groups of 20 or so to a series of metal huts with corrugated roofs and bars on the windows. In the first room, three screeners and three interpreters seated at plastic tables quiz the migrants to find out where they are from, and inspect their passports or papers for forgeries. The migrants then proceed to a second hut, where a dozen officers of Frontex, the EU’s border agency, operate fingerprint machines. Finally, in a third hut, the migrants are photographed by Greek police officers and given temporary visas which allow them to stay in Greece for either 30 or 180 days (depending on their nationality). For a single man, the entire process takes about half an hour.

Once the migrants have a temporary visa, they can either claim asylum in Greece or leave. Most leave. They buy a ticket on a ferry organised by the Greek authorities and go to Athens. From there, they will continue on through Europe.

The process is fairly thorough. Without a temporary visa, the migrants cannot board the ferries. Fingerprint data go to Eurodac, the European database. And not all migrants are let through. Those who turn out to be Algerian, Moroccan or Tunisian, or who are flagged up as a security threat, are apprehended and sent straight to Athens, where they must either claim asylum or be placed in a holding centre and returned to their home countries. (In theory, at least; some north African migrants may fall through the cracks.)

But the system is not without its flaws. One of the screening rooms is adorned with mugshots of migrants who sold their temporary visas and re-registered themselves. Some migrants buy forged documents from criminal gangs as soon as they land on the island (although Frontex claims that its coast guards have caught or scared off many of the gangsters).

Most importantly, the hotspot grapples only with the first stage in a long process. Migrants can register there, but they cannot apply for asylum in Europe while on the island unless they go through the relocation scheme, which few do. Instead they go to Athens (from which most leave, waiting until they get to Germany or Sweden before they claim asylum). This means that cracks open up in the system. People who may be economic migrants, or from stable countries, are being funnelled through to the mainland, where some may buy fake papers identifying them as Syrian and try their luck getting to Germany.

To work more efficiently, the hotspot concept needs to be expanded. It would help if Greece got on with building the rest of them—the one in Kos has been held up by squabbling politicians and local NIMBY resistance. Other sites have problems with electricity or toilets. The existing one in Lesbos could also be made bigger and better: although the number of Frontex officers was recently increased, they still find it hard to cope with the sheer numbers of asylum-seekers at peak times.

Greece will struggle as more migrants start to arrive again when the weather gets warmer in the spring. If the hotspots are up and running, they will help to manage the flow. If not, expect more chaos.

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