Everyone—politicians, scientists, businessmen, the press—says that for demographic and economic reasons the country urgently needs guests from abroad. Transport, construction, light and heavy industry, the service sector are niches where there is currently a shortage of labor. Meanwhile, the flow of immigrants year by year is shrinking and even turning back. And the path is blocked not only by the difficult procedures for 'arranging' foreigners in Russia, the inhospitality of certain regions, the constant hunting by the police for 'suspicious strangers,' and manifestations of everyday xenophobia.
The point is also that for residents of CIS countries, which in the 1990s faithfully served as migration donors for Russia, it is becoming less and less economically profitable to work on its territory. The economies of their own countries are growing, which means that people from the former Soviet republics have fewer reasons to immigrate to Russia. 'The outflow of population from Kazakhstan is shrinking. By liberalizing its migration legislation, Kazakhstan has even managed to 'take away' from Russia migrants from Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, and Kyrgyzstan,' notes Nikita Mkrtchyan, a migration specialist at the Center for Demography and Human Ecology of the Russian Academy of Sciences. In Ukraine, the economy is also rising, and those of its residents who have not found a use for themselves at home will soon be lured away by the European Union. 'Europe needs migrants, and it is more interested in Ukrainians, who are culturally and ethnically close to it, than, say, in people from African countries,' says Nikita Mkrtchyan.
The Transcaucasia is already 'immigration-exhausted.' 'Those who could come from Armenia, Georgia, and Azerbaijan are already here—they settled in Russia in the 1990s,' the scientist continues. Of the post-Soviet immigration donors for Russia, one can only hope for Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, and Kyrgyzstan—such is the conclusion of many experts.
People from CIS countries, as a rule, go to central and southern Russia, partly to the Volga region, to large cities with prosperous economies and relatively warm climates. Neither Siberia east of Krasnoyarsk, nor even the Far East, interests them. Meanwhile, Russian lands beyond the Urals, which have been relentlessly emptying since the 1960s, are in dire need of an influx of population. And here one could count on immigrants from China, Vietnam, and Korea—traditional guests from the East.
And they do come. True, China and Vietnam supply Russia mainly with rural residents who have no education or qualifications. 'Qualified Chinese are oriented toward the USA, Canada, Japan, Singapore, and Malaysia,' notes Nikita Mkrtchyan. Vietnam is raising its own economy. Potential immigration donors could be Iran, Turkey, Pakistan, as well as India. But to attract people from there, as well as from other countries, Russia must not just talk about its hospitality, but also demonstrate it in practice.
In the meantime, the country has a 'protective migration policy instead of the necessary integration policy,' believes Zhanna Zayonchkovskaya, head of the migration laboratory at the Institute of Economic Forecasting of the Russian Academy of Sciences. 'We have, in essence, closed migration,' echoes Valery Tishkov, director of the Institute of Ethnology and Anthropology of the Russian Academy of Sciences. Experts unanimously say that the law 'On Citizenship of the Russian Federation' clearly complicates the entry of immigrants. To obtain Russian citizenship, they have to wait five years—too long a period for a country in need of an influx of human and labor resources.
The process of obtaining citizenship itself is complex and multi-stage. There are three stages. The first is obtaining a temporary residence permit, the second is obtaining a residence permit, and the third is citizenship. If you are eligible for a simplified procedure for obtaining citizenship, the waiting period is reduced to a year. That is, of course, not so much, but after all, 'all this time you have to live somewhere and on something,' notes Nikita Mkrtchyan.
In the autumn of 2003, the law 'On Citizenship of the Russian Federation' was amended; the amendments liberalized the procedure for obtaining citizenship for certain categories of migrants. Now the law gives priority to ethnic Russians, former citizens of the USSR registered at their place of residence on July 1, 2002, veterans of World War II, children, and incapacitated persons who are foreign citizens or stateless persons. Foreigners serving under contract in the Armed Forces of the Russian Federation can also obtain Russian citizenship under a simplified scheme.
However, even these measures are unlikely to seriously stimulate immigration to Russia. The strongest magnet attracting guests is socioeconomic. And those oblasts and regions that provide migrants with jobs with decent salaries and housing turn out to be immigration favorites. For example, Belgorod Oblast in the southwest of Russia welcomes guests this way. There, local authorities added regional funds to federal funds for migrant support. As a result, Belgorod University lured quite a few teachers and scientists from Ukraine's Kharkiv University.
Migration specialists consider Krasnodar Krai in the south as the main 'anti-example.' It has the image of an inhospitable region, where a deportation camp with rather harsh living conditions for newcomers is almost a source of pride for local authorities. Indeed, many immigrants have settled in Krasnodar Krai with its heavenly subtropical climate and decent economy, especially people from neighboring Transcaucasia, which sometimes irritates the locals and complicates the situation on the labor market. And yet, such a policy of local authorities is hardly justified, if only because it fuels ethnic tension. And it spoils the country's reputation one way or another.
Russia must integrate as many migrants as possible into society, emphasizes Anatoly Vishnevsky, head of the Center for Demography and Human Ecology of the Russian Academy of Sciences. 'Strangers'—people of a different culture—must become 'their own.' In other words, guests need to be helped to assimilate, in the interests of Russia and their own.
And in many ways, one can rely on education. Russia must be ready to provide free professional development for foreign workers, free education for their children, and introduce them to Russian culture. Of course, in this case the state will have to incur considerable expenses. But it is worth it and will pay off. For Russia – a huge country rapidly losing population (over 800,000 people per year) – the only salvation can be the humanization of migration policy.