Arnold Karskens started a 14-day journey through the West Coast of Turkey, where thousands of refugees risk their lives on a daily basis, on boats to the Greek islands. His journey reveals startling conclusions. The exodus seems to be easier and safer for those who have money. Turkey and Europe observe from the sidelines, while migrants step into boats- not running from imminent danger but on a quest for a better, easier life in Europe.
‘I can’t live my entire life in a camp’
Hundreds of Syrians are camped outside in the park, gathered around the clock tower in the heart of Izmir. Dressed for the summer, with standard equipment fit to the image of the modern refugee: a small black backpack.
Hisham (27), in a blue T-shirt, is a teacher from Idlib who has left his wife and two children (2 and 3,5) behind in a camp in Gaziantep, near the border with Syria. He is one of many, looking for a better life. “I can’t live my entire life in a camp. My children need education”
I understand his motivation but I ask him again explicitly; “You left the camp here in Turkey only to pursue a better life in The Netherlands, Germany or France? “Yes, as a matter of fact I did. Turkey is a very good country, it has helped us a lot, but my friends and I all have a university bachelor degrees from and we want jobs.“
His travel companion, Tarek (27) is from the Syrian Hama district and has other considerations for the journey. “I had the choice to either get married or to travel, both cost about the same, so I chose the latter.” No one in the group ponders about joining the fight against Assad or the extremists of IS, that is a fight they rather leave for others to deal with. “We are only looking for a peaceful life.”
Behind the façade
Europe is submerged under a massive wave of migrants. Just in the first 8 months, a 160.000 people have crossed over from Turkey to the Greek islands Lesbos, Chios, Samos and Kos. I decided to start on a journey along the west coast of Turkey in a rental car, accompanied by my translator and fixer Atti Bahadori – to shine a light on the daily façade we are subjected to by various media channels – portraying these people as desperate victims of war. The reality is nothing like it seems. I learn that nobody is really running away from war or eminent threats to their lives. Nearly all refugees make a deliberate and conscious decision to start the journey, well aware of all risks involved.
The High waves of the Island Chios
What strikes me first and foremost , is that there are several ways to illegal migration. There are travellers who try the journey on their own, like Salman (29), a construction worker from Afghanistan whom I’ve met in Çeşme, a town that lies parallel to the Greek Island of Chios. He is currently residing on the windy coast of the Island, between the shrubs, with a group of men, women and children. The rampant unemployment and anarchy in Afghanistan is what forced him to make the move to Europe. Seated on a large boulder overlooking the ocean, he takes the situation in to account. The wind is very strong, causing high waves before the island and a floating patrol vessel in the distance complicates the possibility of a crossover today. His boat is hidden somewhere in the shrubs. “The boat is six meters. It can carry about 20 people.”
When I ask him about the price of a seat on his boat, he answers that it is about 4500 euro’s with an outboard-engine. That is 225 euro’s per person. It appears to be cheap but as the conversation continues , the risks unravelsthemselves one by one.. Unaware of local conditions , independent travellers enter the water from rocky shore areas, with a high riskof damaging the rubber boat and too often they sail right in to the arms of the Turkish patrol vessels- lacking the right connections who could inform them on the patrol schedules of the Turkish coast guards.
‘The Mafia will cut off your nose’
Salman points to the tip of the Island where Çeşme is situated; “ That is mafia territory. They will cut off your ears and nose, if you’d end up there. They have connections with the Turkish police.” Salman obviously doesn’t. He has been arrested and released several times by ransom exchange, so much that he and his group are now living on bread and onions.
Staggering rise in numbers
The boat route from Turkey to the Aegean sea has become a popular choice since Greece decided to place a nearly 10 kilometer fence along its border with Turkey, where the river Evros forms a natural barrier. According to the numbers presented by Frontex, the European border agency – some 50.830 people have crossed over in 2014. The estimate for the first eight months of 2015 has already reached a 160.000. A record of 23.000 people was booked in during the last week of August- this was the number of total emigration for the entire year of 2013. We can expect half a million refugees by 2016 if we continue without proper policy. The smuggler infrastructures seem to be fully prepared for this.
From the terrace of the Oz Pansiyon Restaurant in the village of Behramkale are two clear smuggle routes in the direction of the Greek island of Lesbos. Here, right next to the ruins of Assos, black rubber boats loaded with migrants in orange life vests, set to sail day and night. The departure is always from the exact same locations, within a few hundred meters along the coastline. The daily influx resembles that of a scheduled ferry service.
The statement of Dutch Labor-leader Diederik Samsom, made during an appearance on the Dutch television program Brandpunt; “All those politicians who are saying that ‘we can close the borders and we can stop the wave of refugees’ are fooling their electorates by stating so.” hereby seems refuted. As local observation and random conversation with boat migrants reveal that the authorities haven’t made hardly any attempt to halt the influx. Permanent patrols at departure points could halt or at least reduce the influx. Staying out of the way of the mafia, using different departure points is nearly impossible due to the natural conditions of the coast. Here and there you see a smugglers boat escape the eye of a Turkish patrol vessel, sailing away just in time. But most of the time there is no border inspection at all.
Two Syrians have just missed their boat. “We wanted to buy one more bottled water, tomorrow a second attempt”, says one.
I ask if he isn’t afraid to get caught?
He shakes his head. “There aren’t any patrols the next 3 hours of the night.
“How do you know?” I ask.
“We’ve been told”
How much is a one-way to Greece?
The price tag for a well-organised journey from Turkey to the Greek islands varies from a 1000 euro for a small unstable boat, to nearly 2000 for a trustworthy stable boat. There’s a price on comfort. The largest inflatable boat is about 11 meters long and can carry up to 45 people in one go. The payment to secure a seat on a boat like this is made to smuggling racketeers, via a third party. The migrant makes an appointment with a gang leader in Istanbul or Izmir, often a compatriot because they are trusted by the migrant. The migrant hands over the money to the third party, with the guarantee that the gang, who is in close contact with the Turkish underworld, receives the money at his arrival on the Greek island. That message is delivered by a phone call. It’s a well-organized business that is hard to outsmart. If the migrant decides not to call, thinking “ I can keep my money”, he is given three days to pick up the money in person if asked to do so- in which case the money is handed over to the Mafia anyway.
The migrant benefits from this because the journey is guaranteed. If the boat is seized by the police, which hardly ever happens due to strong internal connections between gangs and the police, the customer is given a chance at a second attempt to cross over. This is a precaution to avoid betrayal to the authorities. By my own estimates, three quarters of the refugees use the help of the mafia to cross over.
What is Frontex doing? Where are the NATO vessels?
Witness to the ongoing cat & mouse play, I ask myself what the role of Frontex is in all of this. The budget for the Aegean Sea is at a sloppy 142 million Euro’s a year. No one can really tell me what happens with this money. There is no such thing as security and control just as no smuggler is convicted – that is blatantly clear. Every boat passenger has one or more of these ‘ghachaghchis’ (local term for smugglers) on speed dial. Tapping phones and making arrests should be easy, but it doesn’t happen, neither on the other side where gang accomplices watch the movements of the incoming boats from the Greek Island. The 26 NATO members possess hundreds of marine boats all together, but apparently none are put to use to guard these borders. Not even to inspect or fight the infiltration of possible IS members. The only thing that Frontex seems to be doing is picking up ‘boat people’ in sea and off-boarding them in Greece. Nobody is sent back to Turkey, and perhaps that is justified. After all, one can never know who is onboard, but permanent inspection by Frontex, to weaken the influx of refugees at the coast of the Greek islands is out of the question.
Big Business to Lesbos
The large transit camp for the thousands that come in week by week to cross over from here to Lesbos, lies at the end of an unpaved path covered in clothing, empty bottles, and left behind suitcases. Every few hours a small group of Syrians, Afghans, Pakistani’s. Iraki’s and Africans are dropped off by buses or small trucks. Once arrived, they throw their bags, often packed in garbage bags, over their shoulders as they walk a kilometer until noises of children playing at a swimming pool, points to the spot of a shelter, half hidden behind the trees. Here the big waiting starts, in the shadows of shrubs and trees, next to the inflated rubber boats and heavy outboard-engines. This is the domain of the organized crime gangs, a well-oiled machine.
Mohammed (27) was a police officer in Baghdad. Instead of protecting his country against IS, he decided to run, he tells me as he shows me around the camp. “There is no future in Irak. With every car that I passed, I was afraid it was going to explode.” Because his mother is of Kurdish decent, he remained some time in Northern Irak. “I am trying my luck in Europe”. Sheltering under a tree is Shamil (36), a teacher from Mosul with three children including a four months old baby who is suffering from diarrhea. Its mother complains; “If I would have known about this misery here beforehand, I would have never left!”
‘They leave you floating around for a while’
Walking in to the second largest transit camp at the other side of Behramkale, equally hidden behind trees and shrubs, the sound of the Turkish ‘Jandarma’ echoes continuously. Young men are running up in to the hills to seek for safer shelter. This second camp is not as organized as the first one. It’s more like a scene out of a bad western movie, probably because it’s in the hands of the Kurdish mafia. “They walk around carrying guns” says a young Afghan. Just nine days ago, a young Syrian man was shot dead during a quarrel. The police came by to collect the body. The Afghans are talking about two incidents where children have drowned. The last one was a day earlier when a boat capsized at sea. An Afghan gentleman in a white T-shirt has been arrested three times by Turkish patrol guards. “They circled around the boat a few times fast, they do this to cause waves and capsize the boat, so you’ll fall in the water. Then they will leave you floating around a little while and pick you up onboard and you’re brought back to Istanbul. They release you the next day and you buy another ticket and come back here again.” A local hotel employee with a twenty-year career as a policeman, is witness to this on a daily basis. He rubs his index finger symbolically over his thumb. “He who pays shall pass”. I can’t verify his claims but what strikes me is that large boats are let through easily whereas a few smaller boats are not.
Looking for a boat
There is a third way, besides taking the journey on one’s own initiative or with the help of organized crime; that is through a deal with a small businessman who will sell you a boat. The prices are much lower, but the risks are much higher as you are required to do a lot on your own. It’s not just stepping in and leaving. Three migrants are walking along the coastal road between Turgutreis and Akyarlar, near the famous seaside resort of Bodrum. They are easily recognized by their black backpacks. They are from Iran. Heshmatolh a 49 years old taxi driver, Mesam of 24 and Iman (38), both barbers of occupation. They are looking to buy a boat, but have no idea where and how. I ask if I can join them in their quest. They agree.
We meet Ali in a local supermarket, a Persian Kurd wearing traditional wide trousers. He turns his gaze away from us as we greet. He is high as a kite! “I can get my hands on a second boat”, he says. We agree to meet later that evening, in a deserted rough area under a tree, with a view to the lighthouse. Here the Greek island of Kos is at a rough seven- kilometer distance. Ali wants to see the money, but we want to see the boat first: Inflated in order to inspect it against leaks. He walks away angry and informs us via telephone that there is no engine and that we can’t make the journey after all.
The night of Aylan Kurdi
A group of Pakistani’s dressed in orange life vests, carry a rubber boat on their shoulders, while crossing over the asphalt road up to the beach. Seconds later they disappear in to the pitch-black sea. This night a dozen boats will depart from here. One of them is carrying three- year old toddler Aylan Kurdi, who will drown along with 11 others at sea. The sea is calm, but the boats- mostly all of plastic are unstable and capsize easily, as they collide into one another in the dark of the night. The children were not equipped with life vests. A seat on a boat like this, costs close to a 1000 euro and a life vest for children is sold at large in a supermarket just 300 meters from the scene, for only 16,50 Turkish Pounds- the equivalent of 5 Euro’s- I rest my case. Two days later, a garland is thrown in the sea, at the spot of the fatal departure point. Aylan’s father, who survived the disaster, buries the toddler along with his mother and brother in the Syrian Turkish border, in Kobani. The place they once fled a year ago, now seems to be safer than the Mediterranean Sea.
In the meantime I manage to visit Dutch René Tiemesse (52) who is very concerned with the fate of the refugees. The former factory owner and captain is seated at the back of his 18,5 meters long yacht in the harbor of Bitez and blames “those damned politicians in The Hague” for doing absolutely nothing to come up with a solution. “At least be honest like Wilders and just say you don’t want them.”
On the shore we see people carrying food and bottled water. Tiemesse points towards a rocky point at sea, one of the departure points to Kos. I can bring them to the other side, some 200 people at once. Personally I would sign up for that without a doubt on my mind.”
Then why aren’t you doing it? I ask.
“I have crew of 12 men and a wife who wouldn’t appreciate it.” He is frequently approached by refugees who are interested to buy one of his three rubber boats, but he always refuses. It would get him in a lot of trouble with the Turkish authorities. I told him that he speaks just like the rest of the Netherlands, and in particular like most Dutch celebrities: A lot of big words and sympathy, but no concrete actions or solutions.
He stares back at me furiously. “I would have punched you in the face right now had you been of smaller posture.”
I responded back cold; “So why don’t you?!”
He shakes his shoulders and answers in an honest tone; “Ah well, maybe I am a jerk. I feel I am, because I can’t do anything for them.”
Our concerned compatriot sighs deeply and then asks; “fancy another cold beer?”
‘You should remain in Iran!’
The Iranians have decided to purchase a boat together with other fellow countrymen who have been living in the neighborhood for while. They have found a salesman in Turgutreis, who is selling boat, equipped with a second hand fuel engine. “Electric outboard-engines stop running half-way on the journey, forcing you to paddle the rest of the journey, so we try to listen to our customers needs and place the order.”
Meanwhile the Western beach culture at the seaside resort has turned into a true culture shock for some of the members of the group. When a woman in bikini walks by, Iman can’t help to say; “I would never allow my daughter to walk around this naked in public.” Atti, once an Iranian refugee herself replies; “ Why do you come here then?! In that case you should remain in Iran!
Atti informs me that Iman is currently in the middle of a divorce. His wife has demanded a ‘mehriye’- a financial warranty tied to the marriage contract. He doesn’t have that money, which is why he has chosen to run off to Europe. It becomes clear that no one in this group is running from a war, although one man admits having beaten a police officer, whom he claims has raped his daughter and another man is potentially a homosexual. Iman is permanently kicked out of the group the next day, because he has been borrowing money, without plans of actually paying back. “Don’t you think he’ll betray us to the Turkish police?,” I ask worried. But the other men in the group assure me that they will cut him in pieces if he makes an attempt. Everyone is spending the night at a hotel with a pool, running through hard cash quickly. They want to cross over as soon as possible to avoid being broke at arrival. Atti Says; “They are under the serious impression that everything is free in Europe, That a bus will await them to bring them everywhere they would like to go.” One man grabs his passport, preparing to send it back to Iran. Giving a false identity to the authorities seems to be a standard solution for those without a strong case.
A second attempt
The outboard-engine is tested and approved for the journey but the delivery of the boat has been delayed due to the large demand. “It is on its way from Istanbul”- says the salesman in the city center. A departure point is chosen, not far from our hotel, not visible from the open road, hidden behind trees. The question is, how to get the boat and the engine there without being noticed? Taxi drivers refuse to help out because once caught, they are tried as smugglers and ordered to pay extremely high fines. The portions of the boat finally arrive at about midnight. The two young Persians whom I spoke to earlier, who were proudly telling me about how they had been preparing boats to sail off at night for months, are now actually fumbling on for hours in the dark. On top of everything, the boat bellow is making terribly loud noises.
The red/blue flashing lights of the ‘Jandarma’ forces us to dive into the bushes every 30 minutes. Just like the massive searchlights from a Turkish patrol vessel, flashing towards the shore/directed towards the shore, searching for departing smugglers boats. Inspection has been sharpened after the worldwide media outrage on the drowning incident of 12 people just a few days ago. Now it seems it is possible!
While I’m whispering, in fear of getting caught, my travel companions don’t seem to care much and are arguing loudly about every little superficial thing. I can already imagine myself sitting in a Turkish cell, talking to myself and wondering how I ended up there. Then suddenly, at 3 AM the boat seems to be ready for departure. We then realize that our life jackets which were hidden under the shrubs have been stolen. “Bunch of ‘Ali Baba’s”, one of the Iranians mumbles. The life jacket belonging to five-year old Awa, the youngest to travel with us and who had been sleeping prior departure on a plastic bed under the shrubs, had too disappeared. Luckily I had brought a children’s life vest with me to secure my backpack in case of an emergency.
‘Are you Crazy?’
We wait until the coastline is quiet and then the outboard-engine starts running bytwo strong tugs. The first challenge, passing a Turkish patrol vessel unnoticed, by sailing away diagonally. This also brings us in the right streamlet leading us to the island Kos. The waves aren’t high. If the Iranians hadn’t packed so heavy and the salesman in Turgutreis hadn’t lied to us about the engine’s capacity, we would have easily crossed over in just 30 minutes. We were now dancing on the waves for already 2 hours. The first jubilation is heard as we have made it through the first half of our journey. It is Farida, who shouts “Hallelujah!” Farida is a Shia, who recently converted to Christianity. I doubt her motives, which I can’t possibly verify right now.
We can see the red lights flashing from a mountaintop in Kos, overlooking boat movements at the narrow sea border between Turkey and Greece. In the distance we can see the dark silhouettes of other vessels, but they don’t seem to be bothered by our presence. Suddenly a speedboat appears out of nowhere, it’s the Greek coast guard who make three sharp circles around our fragile boat, causing us to nearly capsize. We manage to avoid a collision in the nick of time, with our arms stretched over the vessel.
We are shouted at and commanded to onboard. The boat and the engine too are loaded onto the vessel. At first, we were under the impression that we were being brought back to Turkey and I saw the dim expressions of disappointment on my fellow passengers faces. But then we made a turn towards the harbor of Kos. Once arrived at the dock, the Greek authorities and Frontex agents frown upon my presence. “Are you crazy?” a Greek officer asks. “It’s my job, I responded “and I on the other hand- like to do my job in the best possible way I can. “
A fine of 400 Euro
While my companions are let in to the city after a quick scan of their identities, to look for temporary shelter until their papers are ready for the their next journey- I am brought to the harbor authorities for questioning. They ask me whether I know the name of smuggler who arranged the journey. And; “Do you know if the Turkish authorities are behind the smuggling activities?” My camera is confiscated. My passport too is confiscated, on grounds of illegal trespassing. The next day I am fined 400 euro’s by a prosecutor, for filming a patrol vessel with a GoPro camera. One could ask why a EU-citizen is questioned and fined while 35.000 boat refugees aren’t. Perhaps the Greeks too, don’t appreciate being watched and scrutinized.
Meanwhile Kos is heavily overpopulating with migrants. They sleep in tents, scattered all over the city center. The situation has turned grim and is growing even more chaotic than it was a month ago. Like at Lesbos, fights have become part of the day-to day reality, fuled by underlying frustrations of several migrant groups. The European Union is observing passively from the sideline, the desperate measures from Brussels bring no solution to the situation on the island. With what I’ve come to learn, from my experience in West Turkey, I fear that the worst is yet to come.
Read more from Arnold Karskens.
Translated from Dutch to English by Leora Sameni.
