Migrant- and Refugee-Squatting and the Right to the City: The Case of Refugee Strike House

By Arielle Hersh

The Gerhart-Hauptmann Schule was already empty when police arrived to clear the building on January 11, 2018. A small crowd gathered and marched to commemorate the closing of Refugee Strike House. The ten remaining migrants had left the night before.

The end of Refugee Strike House at the former Gerhart-Hauptmann Schule marks a turning point in Berlin’s treatment of refugee and migrant populations, as well as the city’s legacy of squatting. Yet in its existence, Refugee Strike House can be seen as a realization of the right to the city for Berlin’s most disenfranchised and alienated persons: refugees and migrants. As I will attempt to show below, the squatters claimed a multiplicity of rights coupled under this ideological framework. Of those, what was perhaps most prominent was a claim to centrality: the physical center of the city and resources associated with it. Protests about Germany’s Residenzpflicht system were crucially about centrality, and by squatting in Kreuzberg, the squatters placed themselves squarely in the middle of Berlin, as well the epicenter of radical politics.

In this paper, I query whether and in what capacity the existence of Refugee Strike House conceptualizes the right to the city. First, I trace the history of the current state of refugees in Germany and squatting in Berlin. Next, I outline the right to the city framework and its application to refugee and migrant squatting. Then, I outline the history of Refugee Strike House. Finally, I synthesize these histories and theories in the context of Refugee Strike House, paying particular attention to the question of centrality.

Because the squat was evicted before the start of my research, my exploration of this subject relies heavily on news reports of the former Gerhart Hauptmann Schule. These sources do not always speak to the validity of what happened, as much coverage of the Gerhart Hauptmann Schule reflected the polarization of its controversy. However, I have attempted to mark as appropriate where sources may be biased or sensationalized.

Refugees in Europe and Germany

Mass factors such as conflict, famine, uneven development, and climate change are causing the single largest displacement of people across the globe since the end of World War II. In 2015, German Chancellor Angela Merkel famously declared, “If Europe fails on the question of refugees, then it won’t be the Europe we wished for.”^[1] That year, 1.1 million refugees crossed the German border; of them, over 10,000 went to in Berlin.^[2] A 2016 Brookings Institute report entitled “Cities and Refugees—The German Experience” notes, “refugees disproportionately settle in large cities, where they have better job prospects and existing social connections.”^[3] Cities in this circumstance can act as hubs, providing easy access to transit and a range of services such as case workers, medical care, cultural centers, and education.^[4] However, Germany’s Residenzpflicht system allocates incoming asylum seekers to municipalities dispersed across the country, disadvantaging those assigned to rural and peripheral communities without the resources to support them. The system also places stress on large cities because it is based on tax revenue and population alone, not density or preexisting housing conditions.^[5] 

Housing is one of the most significant concerns for incoming asylum-seekers. In large cities like Berlin with affordable housing crises of their own, that housing becomes all the more difficult to secure, especially while attempting to avoid creating “segregated enclaves that pose substantial challenges for long-term integration.”^[6] As of 2016, Berlin still housed two-thirds of its refugee population in emergency shelters.^[7] The Berlin government is currently in the process of building prefabricated housing units out of shipping containers in the city’s periphery using a legal loophole that allows the government to bypass building authority approval.^[8] However, this process is slow-going and inadequate in comparison to the total number of asylum-seekers.

Squatting in Berlin

The squatting scene in Berlin began in the 1960s, when the island of West Berlin, free from the military draft, became a beacon for young people seeking out “alternative lifestyles” and varying methods of organizing themselves, their living situations, culture, and politics. In coincidence with the global protest movement surrounding 1968 and the rise of the autonomous movement, young people sought out spaces where they could create such alternatives. The dominant narrative of this movement focuses primarily on young, white, middle class, and educated people who squatted buildings for political purposes. However, from the very beginning, migrants, women, and historically marginalized populations participated in the squatting movement in Berlin.

Between 1969 and 1978, 14 locations were squatted.^[9] Standoffs with the police and violent evictions, often with water cannons and tear gas, remained characteristic of the squatting scene from the beginning. Yet the number of squatted buildings during this decade is paltry in comparison to the 287 squatted spaces occupied between 1979 and 1984. This boom in the movement was concentrated in Kreuzberg and Schoenberg.^[10] Toward the end of this cycle around 100 squats were legalized by the Berlin government, although this action, coupled with increased policing measures, halted the emergence of new squats.^[11] 

In 1980, several Turkish families moved into an already-existing squat at Forster Straße 16 and 17 in search of better housing conditions.^[12] The next year, seven Turkish women and their children, as well as one German activist squatted Kottbusser Straße 8 after experiencing discrimination while looking for housing.^[13] While comparatively less is written about women squatters and squatters with migrant background, their history is a significant one that is deeply rooted within the larger movement of squatting in Kreuzberg and Berlin.

While the majority of squats were taken in West Berlin, a significant number in East Berlin cannot be ignored, specifically in the neighborhood of Prenzlauer Berg. However, squats in the East were characteristically less focused on political dissent or the creation of alternative ways of being and more rooted in the necessity for affordable housing.

After the Berlin Wall fell in 1989, another spike in squatted spaces took place as West Berliners flocked to the newly unified East. Most indicative of this wave was the 1990 clearing of 11 squats on Mainzer Straße in Friedrichshain involving barricades, Molotov cocktails, tear gas, and water canons.^[14] Afterwards, few projects were squatted and those that were faced swift eviction. Some in East Berlin were legalized, but Mainzer Straße is commonly acknowledged as “the end of squatting” in Berlin. However, the protest camp Kotti and Co. at Kottbusser Tor, established as part of a movement against increasing city rents, can be seen as a modern iteration of Berlin squatting.^[15] 

The Right to the City

The right to the city is both a theoretical framework and working slogan for many activist groups and movements. Henri Lefebvre, who coined it first, was also vague—the closest definition he gives is “the right to the city is like a cry and a demand.”^[16] Importantly, this right cannot not be “a return to traditional cities,” but only “a transformed and renewed right to urban life.”^[17] Of these rights, Lefebvre later specifies “the right to information, the right to use of multiple services, the right of users to make known their ideas on the space and time of their activities in urban areas; it would also cover the right to the use of the center [emphasis mine].”^[18] While Lefebvre is also vague in his conception of “the center,” it can be loosely associated with the physical center of the city and the visibility that comes with it, as well as the privileged resources and services often available in the center of cities but not in their peripheries.

David Harvey conceptualizes the right to the city as a right “to claim some kind of shaping power over the processes of urbanization, over the ways in which our cities are made remade, and to  do so in a fundamental and radical way.”^[19] To be radical, this right is not for those who are already able to exercise that kind of shaping power over their cities. Rather, this right is for the “deprived” and “alienated,” to use Peter Marcuse’s terminology.^[20] Furthermore, the right to the city is not a single right but “multiple rights that are incorporated.”^[21] Together, Harvey imagines that this framework demands “greater democratic control over the production and use of the surplus.”^[22] The right to the city is not just about right to centrality, housing, services, public space, etc. but a coalition of those rights that moves beyond the rights themselves and into a discourse of power over the “processes of urbanization.” For the purposes of this paper, I am concerned with the right to the city as a collectivity of rights for the most disenfranchised in society that demand shaping power over cities.

Extension to Migrant and Refugee Squatting

While the academic discourse around migrant and refugee squatting is small, the 2016 Migration, Squatting and Radical Autonomy, edited by Pierpaolo Mudu and Sutapa Chattopadhyay, covers much of the key theory connecting the radical practice of squatting to refugee and migrant populations. According to their framework, b/ordering apparatuses such as territorial lines, border agencies like Frontex, and the system of application for asylum-seekers create “undocumented territories,” or “territories that are created by and for human beings who are illegalized by states.”^[23] Within a political system based on citizenship, refugees and migrants are placed in such territories without guarantees of “the right to decent and affordable housing” or even “migrant or asylum status.”^[24] Thus, “those who are unable to identify themselves by the state (so-called ‘undocumented migrants’) often see no other option than to claim a space of existence in ways that ‘rehumanize’ their identity.”^[25]

The claim to housing is not, in the case of squatting, legalized by the state. Instead, via a conception of prefigurative politics, the migrants and squatters “socially justif[y] and [prove]” their right to resistance.^[26] The migrant-squatter is invented by the police and media as “a hybrid creature” that “is deemed an invader of space.”^[27] Thus, the action of squatting as a migrant or refugee is increasingly criminalized and demonized. This adds to the already-risky state of existence as a migrant-squatter. However, “undocumented migrants rely on forging human relationships, and are actively producing citizenship based on everyday negotiations in ways that precisely challenge this invisibility and illegality.”^[28] In the context of European squatting, social centers are “spaces, usually originated in the squatting of an abandoned place, where people experiment with non-institutional action and association through self-management.”^[29] These spaces have formed a legacy as the beginning of solidarity networks for European squatters, forging cross-organizational ties. When associated with social centers and their existing networks of solidarity, there is space for the development of a larger movement that is “de-colonizing colonized spaces and opening borders.”^[30]

Case Study: The Gerhart-Hauptmann-Schule 

The Gerhart-Hauptmann-Schule, located in Berlin’s Kreuzberg neighborhood, was shuttered in 2012, but sustained a variety of uses after its official closing. After the suicide of a migrant in rural Germany in December of 2012, national protests erupted against the Residenzpflicht system, which allocates asylum-seekers to specific regions that they are required to remain in until their applications are processed, which can take years.^[31] The Residenzpflicht system unfairly isolates asylum-seekers in underserved peripheries without essential services and often critically isolated from their social circles, proving in this case dangerous to their lives. Migrants and refugees marched to Berlin, occupied Pariser Platz in front of the Brandenburg Gate, and then Oranienplatz in Kreuzberg.^[32] Some then began to sleep in the empty Gerhart-Hauptmann-Schule due to the cold.^[33] What began as a small group grew steadily and acquired a mix of residents: Roma families and homeless persons in addition to more refugees.^[34] Thus begins the history of Refugee Strike House.

During this time, the building was used both as housing and meeting space for leftist activist groups—some composed of and/or working with migrants and some combating gentrification and other issues.^[35] Reports of squalid sanitary conditions and a single functioning bathroom were common mentions in the press. In 2014, 211 refugees living in the building were registered with the local administration as residents of the school.^[36] Also that year, a newly arrived migrant allegedly stabbed another squatter over a domestic dispute regarding the shower.^[37] Sensational press around this event increased pressure on the government to take action with regards to the school.

Later that year, the Berlin government made its first attempt to clear the building. Most of the school’s population left, but 50 residents stood on the roof of the building and threatened to jump or burn themselves in gasoline if they were not given the right to remain in the building.^[38] The standoff lasted nine days and hundreds of police officers were deployed to guard the school reported Squatnet, an online forum for the European squatting movement.^[39] Photos confirm police presence as well as extensive protests that mobilized against this action in solidarity with the refugee squatters. Eventually the district council of Kreuzberg-Friedrichshain made an agreement with the migrants that allowed them to remain in the building with eventual plans to open a social center in the space.^[40] Of the deal itself or the exact plans agreed to there can be no confirmation.

The Refugee Strike House was afterwards guarded heavily by the police, allowing only “official” residents to enter and exit. This constant policing incurred significant costs to the district council, a consistent point of contention among critics.^[41] When the occupants attempted to attain a permanent right of residence to the school, the district first attempted to sue them.^[42] In 2017, an eviction title was issued; the district court had ruled, “squatters had no right of residence.”^[43] By that point only 11 refugee-squatters remained in the building.

Afterwards, the residents made a deal with the Berlin government pledging that all 11 refugees would be able to remain in Kreuzberg until their applications were processed, and in the meantime relocated to a refugee shelter in the neighborhood.^[44] Also a part of the deal was the still-unrealized plan to convert the southern wing of the school into a social center.^[45] The remaining refugees left the building on January 10, 2018, the night before the city was set to take over the property. On the morning of January 11, press and 100 protesters gathered outside the school and marched through Kreuzberg.^[46]

The future of the space is a contested one, with plans for the refugee center in addition to an already-operating emergency shelter as well as the intent for a district library and a mixed-income housing development comprised of 120 units called “Campus Ohlauer.”^[47]

The Gerhart Hauptman Schule as Right to the City

The squatting of the former Gerhart Hauptmann Schule can be seen as a “cry and demand” on the behalf of migrants and refugees protesting Germany’s Residenzpflicht system. The state apparatus that granted them access to Germany in the first place simultaneously illegalized their existence by dispersing incoming migrants across the country. In rural and ex-urban spaces, migrants are without the access to services or social networks to help them set up a new life. When protesters occupied the school, I would argue that they claimed a physical manifestation of this struggle for centrality: the right to the city.

Based on the framing of the right to the city as outlined in this paper, migrants and refugees, one of the most disenfranchised groups in Germany, claimed a collectivity of rights (housing, centrality, city services, etc.) through squatting and in that action seized shaping power over the city. The squatters also became increasingly vulnerable due to their legal status compounded with the demonization of the squat by the police and media, which culminated in anti-eviction protests during the summer of 2014. While it is significant that migrant-squatters collaborated with and gathered support from Kreuzberg’s existing squatting and autonomous community, this coalition only drew more ire from the Green-controlled district council.

However, what is perhaps most striking about Refugee Strike House is its location. It is no coincidence that protests against a system that disperses refugees to the periphery of cities coalesced in the physical center of Berlin: Oranienplatz in Kreuzberg. Both symbolically and physically, a claim to Kreuzberg can represent a claim to the center of the city and everything that comes with it: transit, social services, local governance, preexisting social networks, and visibility. Instead of coalescing in Mitte, the newly-redeveloped area of Berlin replete with governmental offices, tourist attractions, and monumental architecture, the protesters found themselves in residential Kreuzberg. While mobilizations at the Brandenburg Gate ensure maximum visibility and media presence, Kreuzberg is the center of Berlin’s alternative scene, which encompasses the squatting and autonomous movement as well as the birth of the Green party that now controls the district council.

By placing themselves in Kreuzberg at the former Gerhart Hauptmann Schule, migrant-squatters asserted their claim to centrality: both physically in Berlin, and ideologically in the heart of alternative Kreuzberg. As a result of this action, Refugee Strike House was able to amass a significant web of social connections and solidarity networks between migrant-squatters and Kreuzberg’s alternative community. It is notable that the refugees and migrants who squatted the school primarily for housing were not the only occupants of the former Gerhart Hauptmann Schule. A number of social justice groups also set up offices in the space: among them refugee-run organizations (including the International Womens Space), refugee support organizations, and anti-gentrification groups (see azozomox 2016 for more). Women, migrants, and other disenfranchised groups have always been at the forefront of the Berlin squatting movement (although not so often recognized), and Refugee Strike House adds to this legacy. 

Additionally, I would argue that by locating themselves within the district of Kreuzberg-Friedrichshain and its legacy of progressive politics, the migrant-squatters of Refugee Strike House sought institutional support for their project as had been granted in the past. Clearly, this was not what materialized. Since the squat’s inception in 2012, the district took continuous measures to destabilize and evict Refugee Strike House. This culminated in the 2014 conflict that raised city-wide protests and mobilized a large portion of the city’s police force. After the squatters’ agreement with the council, the Berlin Senat promised to convert part of the building into a refugee welcome center. This promise was blatantly ignored by the mayor of Kreuzberg-Friedrichshain and never acted upon, even as the district took legal measures to redact the refugees’ right to residency. While disappointing for squatters and activists, it is not particularly surprising given Berlin’s history of violently evicting squats since the early 1990s. These developments run parallel to those in many other larger European capitals, including Southern European cities like Rome that have recently cleared many more buildings of refugee-squatted housing.^[48] 

While it seems that migrant-squatters attempted to claim the right to the city in squatting the former Gerhart Hauptmann Schule, they were unable to move past this action to influence larger reform vis-à-vis the original movement protesting the Residenzpflicht system or conditions for refugees in Berlin. In other words, they were unable to claim shaping power over the city, which is fundamental to the concept of the right to the city.

The final activist statement from Refugee Strike House reads:

The refugee movement has shown that refugees fight for the status of political subjects. Their demands for visibility and equal rights – denied to them by the white-German majority society – have encouraged and politicized groups, initiatives and individuals. Courage, solidarity, and shared political struggle are more necessary than ever in the face of constant tightening of asylum laws, the deterritorialization of Europe’s borders, racist and capitalist exploitation, and the European shift to the right. All people must have the right to decide where and how they want to live, irrespective of their status and origin.

When the police came to forcibly drag the squatters out of their home, it is the culmination of the long-standing struggle of the inhabitants and supporters against the state sponsored policy of the Green Kreuzberg politicians. Contrary to the once agreed upon right of residence, the squatters were harassed as the state tried to regain control: security personnel restricted freedom of movement and judicially enforced eviction was sought. After more than three years, the Greens now have the eviction title they always wanted. We won’t accept this without making noise. The refugee movement has shown us what a productive relationship between the struggles of those directly affected and supporters can look like.^[49]

In the end, the right to the city echoes the call for human rights. It is a call for visibility and equal rights among those discriminated against. The eviction of Refugee Strike House can be understood as the end of a certain possibility for the claiming of those rights. Moreover, it is one that seems to fall upon the shoulders of the Kreuzberg-Friedrichshain district council and Berlin police for persistent (and eventually effective) but violent tactics of removal against squatters. To move forward, activists highlight the importance of solidarity and coalition building between the radical left and migrants and refugees.

Conclusion

The squatting of the former Gerhart Hauptmann Schule cannot be understood as an isolated or independent event. It exists framed by an influx of migrants and refugees to Europe and Berlin. In Germany—dispersed across the country to often rural and peripheral locations by the country’s Residenzpflicht system—asylum-seekers find themselves isolated, without access to necessary services, and sometimes at threat of violence. These events culminated in the protests that lead refugees and migrants to squat the former Gerhart Hauptmann Schule in the first place. By squatting, and especially squatting in Kreuzberg, the migrants situated themselves in the wider history of squatting in Berlin. Moreover, that history is one steeped in initiatives set forth by women, migrants, and historically disenfranchised populations, which Refugee Strike House built upon.

The right to the city proclaims that all people, but particularly those without a voice, have the power to demand control and influence over the spaces they live in. That “cry and demand” asserts itself in many social movements, but is particularly acute in cases that can be seen as a multiplicity of rights, not only a right to space, visibility, housing, or centrality. Refugee Strike House is significant in that it can be used as a case study for understanding the right to the city through the claim of these many rights.

I would argue that the story of Refugee Strike House can be seen as emblematic of this conceptualization of the right to the city. However, I acknowledge that without field research involving participants or activists associated with the project, this reading can only be seen as one understanding of this course of events. The answers asserted here are only hypotheses and hope to point to the critical importance of examining such projects.

The legacy of Refugee Strike House leaves questions about the future of the migrant-squatters, the Gerhart Hauptman Schule, and the movement surrounding the squat. For this, it may help to look beyond Berlin to other cities with adjacent projects that are heralded as successes like the City Plaza Hotel in Athens, or those still in threat of eviction such as the We Are Here Village in Amsterdam. In whatever way the movement continues, it is important to remember on what grounds human rights can be conceptualized and how these theories can be actualized into the claim and recognition of a more complete existence of rights. As one of the squatters of Refugee Strike House proclaimed, “You can evict a building, you can evict people, but you can’t evict a movement!”^[50] 

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