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Europe
nonetheless “extremely welcome”, notes Mr Hedetoft. The Muslims’ drain on the treasury probably has little to do with reli gion. More than half came as asylumseek ers or through family reunifi cation, com pared with 30% of other nonWesterners. Like its Scandinavian neighbours, Den mark enrols new migrants in programmes that include language and civics classes. But its benefi ts system is, characteristical ly, a bit tougher. Payments are lower for people who have not lived in the country for seven out of eight years. This serves both to deter immigrants and to encourage those who do settle to work. Denmark can boast that the gap in unemployment be tween natives and nonEuropean immi grants is smaller than Sweden’s. But that may be in part because Sweden has higher eff ective minimum wages in relation to its average wage, which prices many new im migrants out of jobs, especially if they do not speak Swedish well. The justifi cation for breaking up neigh bourhoods like Mjolnerparken seems fl im sy. Its parallelsociety status is based in part on the fact that 2.69% of its residents had a criminal conviction a couple of years ago. The allowable limit is 2.35%. The number of young men involved in crime is “less and less every year”, believes Majken Felle, a primaryschool teacher who lives in one of the blocks slated for sale. Far from forming a parallel society, Mjolnerparken’s Muslims come from many countries and speak to each other in Danish; it is the younger generation’s mother tongue. The example of Malak Tumeh, a medi cal student, is a rebuke to Danes who think Muslims do not belong, but should also give pause to those who think Denmark’s monoculturalism will inevitably alienate them. The daughter of an Iraqi mother and Palestinian father, she arrived in Denmark in 2001 at four months old. Without resi dence permits her parents could not work in their professions (her mother trained as a microbiologist, her father was a bio chemist). He sold pizza and worked in con struction to make ends meet. When Ms Tu meh was six, police searched her home for fake passports; they “yanked” her by her bag, she says. Religious studies at school centred on Christianity. Yet Denmark and the Tumehs have adapted to each other. Religion teachers “asked my parents to share their experi ences with Islam”, says Ms Tumeh. They brought a Koran to class. Ms Tumeh and her father fi nally became permanent resi dents in 2020; her father got citizenship last year. Not yet a citizen herself, Ms Tu meh considers herself to be Danish. “The past could have been easier, but it’s still a good life, better than many people could imagine,” she says. It is not easy to become a new Dane. But for the few that do, the struggle is worthwhile. n
The Economist December 18th 2021
Bulgaria
Here come the Harvards SOFIA
A pair of new brooms
I
n 2021 bulgarians voted in three gener al elections and a presidential one. They ended 12 years of domination by Boyko Bo risov, a bullnecked former bodyguard whose period in power saw incomes rise, the population fall and lurid tales of cor ruption proliferate. But it was only this week that a new coalition government fi nally took the reins of power. Make way for “the Harvards”, the political pairing now performing a double act. Kiril Petkov, aged 41, and Assen Vassi lev, aged 44, are the new prime minister and fi nance minister respectively, having earlier this year served in the country’s in terim government. Both studied at Har vard Business School. Both became suc cessful entrepreneurs after returning home. But that is not the only reason they are dubbed “the Harvards”. In 2008 they to gether opened a centre in Sofi a affi liated to the school, off ering courses on economic strategy and competitiveness. Many of their graduates are either already mps for the new government or will fan out to run bits of the administration. In September the pair created a party called We Continue the Change, echoing what they had started as interim ministers. In the most recent election, on November 14th, it came fi rst, winning almost 26% of the vote; it has taken them a good month to put a coalition together. Bulgaria is the poorest country in the eu, but the Harvard duo say it shouldn’t be. “Bulgaria is not a poor country,” says Mr
Vassilev. It has simply been “brutally plun dered”. Mr Petkov says they became frus trated because, according to the economic models they were teaching, all of Bulgaria’s advantages (location, eu membership, a decent education system) should have made it “an amazing growth success story”. Instead, it has stagnated thanks to corrup tion and bad management. Mr Petkov says they hoped that a new leader would emerge whom they could advise as ex perts. When that did not happen, they de cided, “ok, let’s do it!”—on their own. When he was 13, Mr Petkov’s parents emigrated to Canada. He earned a degree in fi nance and landed a job working for a Ca nadian food giant, McCain. But his sights were set on bigger things than oven chips. In 2005 he wrote in his application to Har vard that he wanted to be fi nance minister of Bulgaria. On graduating he raised money for a retail park outside Sofi a, then invest ed fi rst in equipment for clearing birds off runways and next in probiotics. Mr Petkov and Mr Vassilev were not widely known in Bulgaria until recently, but they are not political novices. Mr Vassi lev was briefl y minister for the economy in 2013. Mr Petkov has long been a champion of green causes and hit the news in 2018 when he fl ew to Nepal on a mission to fi nd a missing Bulgarian mountaineer. Ognyan Georgiev, editor of “Kapital In sights”, an online business publication, says the duo remind him of Tony Blair and Gordon Brown’s partnership in Britain during the 1990s. He says Mr Petkov is “en ergetic, outspoken, optimistic and wildly charismatic and wants to be the face of the whole thing”, whereas Mr Vassilev is the re served, cerebral half of the duo. Vessela Tcherneva of the European Council on Foreign Relations, a think tank, warns that the pair must act fast to achieve results, especially with their anti corruption agenda, because the popularity that has come with being new and upbeat can quickly evaporate. The pair need to se cure a prompt and impressive corruption conviction, she says, and that is easier said than done. The chief prosecutor, whom the incoming government cannot legally re move, is a man of the ancien régime. In deed, all Bulgaria’s institutions and much of its media are run by people loyal to Mr Borisov and his allies. The Borisov team may be out, but they are far from gone. Other eu members, meanwhile, want Bulgaria to lift its veto on the initiation of talks on membership with North Macedo nia—part of a row over language and his torical identity. Mr Petkov says he has a plan for that, but that it will take time. His fi rst concern, he says, is to put an end to a shabby understanding whereby the eu turned a blind eye to Bulgaria’s corruption so long as Bulgaria did not become a trou blemaker like Hungary. n
