分类： society

For more than half a century, Exarcheia has stood as a one-of-a-kind social and political landmark in the heart of Athens. This central neighborhood has long functioned as a welcoming gathering space for grassroots movements, anti-authoritarian and left-wing activist networks, and displaced migrants and refugees, all of whom found mutual aid and a strong sense of community within its boundaries. Today, however, Exarcheia is undergoing an irreversible transformation, and the communities that forged its unique identity are being systematically pushed to the margins.

Rising residential rents, booming tourism, surging foreign property investment, large-scale urban redevelopment schemes, and an increasingly visible police presence are combining to rewrite the neighborhood’s social map, eroding the tight-knit community that defined its character for generations. “The human geography of Exarcheia is changing a lot,” explains Nikos, a long-term resident and core organizer with the No Metro in Exarcheia Square assembly, a movement that launched five years ago to oppose the local construction project. “The cost of living crisis is rampant at the moment. Many people who have been active in our neighborhood’s social movements have been forced to relocate because of skyrocketing housing costs, and that has gutted the collective dynamics and strength of our community.”

Exarcheia’s gradual shift began years before Greece’s center-right New Democracy party took national power in 2019. In the years during and after Greece’s devastating decade-long economic crisis, platforms for short-term holiday rentals like Airbnb exploded across central Athens, as international investors poured capital into the country’s relatively affordable property market. This trend was accelerated further by the introduction of Greece’s Golden Visa program, which grants five-year renewable residency permits to non-EU nationals and their families in exchange for property investment.

The impact of these shifts has been uniquely dramatic in Exarcheia. Research from the Athens Social Atlas found that foreign buyers accounted for 42.5% of all property purchases in the neighborhood in 2018, with Israeli citizens making up the largest single group of foreign purchasers during that period. Since taking office, the New Democracy government has doubled down on a policy of expanding state control and pushing forward major redevelopment projects in Exarcheia, a combination that has accelerated the neighborhood’s transformation.

The most visible and contentious of these projects is the construction of Athens’ new Metro Line 4 directly beneath Exarcheia Square, the historic heart of the neighborhood’s community and political life. Work began on the project in 2022, turning a beloved open public gathering space into a heavily fenced-off, restricted construction zone. Residents and activists have repeatedly raised urgent safety concerns over the site’s layout, which at one point left only 1.5 meters of clearance between the construction barriers and adjacent buildings – too little, they argue, for pedestrians and emergency vehicles to navigate safely.

For opponents of the project, the reclamation of the square is a powerful symbol of the neighborhood’s broader erasure. For decades, the open space served as the primary meeting point for political organizing, community events, and grassroots mutual aid work. The construction has also brought with it a heavy, aggressive police presence, which Nikos frames as a deliberate effort to crush dissent against the government’s redevelopment plans. “We have faced extreme police presence and police repression around the construction site,” he says. The anti-construction movement has responded with a wide range of direct action tactics, including public cultural events, mass protests, site blockades, and confrontations with law enforcement.

Greek government officials have framed their intervention in Exarcheia as a project to restore “normality” and reassert state control over a neighborhood long known for its autonomous organizing. In the days before New Democracy won the 2019 national election, current Migration and Asylum Minister Thanos Plevris released a viral campaign video filmed in Exarcheia, in which he pledged a hardline crackdown on the neighborhood’s culture of self-governance and anti-authoritarian politics. This framing became a core part of the party’s law-and-order election platform, with incoming leaders promising to bring state authority back to a neighborhood long associated with left-wing and anti-fascist movements.

Years later, this policy is visible across Exarcheia, from the expanded riot police patrols to the Metro construction and a wave of other redevelopment projects that have reshaped the area. Activists reject the “restoring normality” framing, arguing that these changes are deliberately pricing out long-term low-income and activist residents to remake the neighborhood for wealthy new arrivals and foreign investors.

The pressures facing Exarcheia extend far beyond the Metro construction. Nikos frames tourism, foreign real estate speculation, and gentrification as interconnected parts of the same deliberate transformation, as rising property values make it impossible for many generations of residents to stay. The new face of the neighborhood is visible immediately around the square: at the intersection of Themistokleous and Solomou streets, the historic Hotel Exarchion has been rebranded as the upscale Square Hotel by X&N, currently undergoing renovations.

The 93-room property is under a 12-year lease awarded via public tender to Aura 1 Monoprosopis SA, a firm represented by Dan Israel Hineson, a partner of the Israeli investment firm Ficus Investments, according to Greek financial outlet Dnews. The hotel is just one high-profile example of the wave of Israeli property investment in Exarcheia: data from the height of Greece’s economic crisis shows Israeli buyers purchased 74 properties in the neighborhood, more than any other foreign nationality. Israeli investment in Greek real estate has continued to grow in recent years, hitting €129 million in 2024 – a 46.5% increase from 2023 – and Israeli buyers remain among the largest groups of foreign property purchasers in both Athens and Thessaloniki, Greece’s second-largest city.

Tourism has also become a core pillar of Exarcheia’s shifting economy. As demand for tourist accommodation outgrew Athens’ traditional tourist zones like Plaka, Monastiraki, and Psyrri, Exarcheia grew in popularity with visitors drawn to its alternative bars, restaurants, iconic street art, and reputation as Athens’ preeminent counterculture hub. Researchers have labeled this shift the “touristification” of Exarcheia, with the boom in short-term holiday rentals driving up housing costs for permanent residents.

For many local activists and residents, the problem is not simply tourists visiting the neighborhood – it is the political tensions that arise from the intersection of massive Israeli investment and Exarcheia’s long-standing identity as a hub of Palestinian solidarity and anti-Zionist politics. Those commitments have been renewed with urgency since Israel’s 2023 military campaign in Gaza, and activists report open tension with Israeli visitors who publicly express support for the Israeli government and its military offensive. Pro-Palestinian graffiti and posters line the walls of nearly every street in the neighborhood, and mass solidarity demonstrations and actions have become a core part of Exarcheia’s modern identity.

For Ahmed, a Palestinian activist originally from Gaza who has lived in Exarcheia for years, this political identity is personal. “Exarcheia for me means to fight for your right,” he says. Ahmed credits his time in the neighborhood with shaping his activist work, saying he built deep connections with other organizers who share his commitment to Palestinian freedom and resistance.

Today, it remains uncertain whether Exarcheia can preserve the unique counterculture identity that made it famous around the world. Nikos acknowledges that the neighborhood can never return to what it was a decade ago, but he remains defiant about preserving its legacy. “The important thing is that memory doesn’t fade away. There is a community that is eager to uphold this memory and to preserve it in a way,” he says. “We are doomed to win. In a way, it is a necessity for us, for our community.”

Still, as Exarcheia’s transformation accelerates, the core question remains unanswered: where will the communities that built the neighborhood’s identity go, and what will be left of the radical, welcoming culture that made Exarcheia unlike anywhere else in the world?

A deadly military training accident off the southwestern coast of Kazakhstan has left 14 service members dead and triggered the arrest of five senior military figures, according to official updates from the Central Asian nation. The fatal incident unfolded on Thursday, when a group of 17 troops was swept into the Caspian Sea during disembarkation from a military vessel as part of the large-scale “Caspian Defense 2026” exercise. Only three of the service members were pulled from the water alive, while 14 lost their lives to the rough conditions.

Kazakh defense officials have attributed the tragedy to sudden, extreme shifts in local weather: a rapid deterioration of meteorological conditions paired with sharp increases in wind speed that caught the troops off guard during the combat training mission. The accident occurred approximately 43 kilometers (27 miles) off the shore of Aktau, a major Kazakh port city on the Caspian coast.

In the wake of the disaster, Kazakh authorities have moved to detain five senior military personnel connected to the exercise planning and execution. Those held in custody include the chief of staff and first deputy commander of Kazakhstan’s Naval Forces, two separate military unit commanders, the leader of a marine company, and the captain of the vessel involved in the incident. All five face formal suspicion of criminal negligence, according to official statements.

A dedicated investigative committee under Kazakhstan’s interior ministry has been established to lead a full review of the tragedy. Deputy Interior Minister Sanzhar Adilov confirmed that a pretrial investigation is currently underway, with investigators examining multiple layers of responsibility. The probe is focusing on decision-making processes at every stage of the exercise, from initial organization to on-the-ground execution. Key lines of inquiry include whether mandatory safety protocols were strictly followed, whether weather forecasts and conditions were properly assessed before the mission, and whether the military vessel used met all required technical safety specifications.

At the time of the accident, more than 500 military personnel, alongside multiple warships and coastal defense units, were taking part in the Caspian Defense 2026 exercise, a large-scale military drill hosted by Kazakhstan’s defense ministry.

Last August, a since-deleted TikTok video posted by a French hiker ignited a nationwide reckoning over systemic racism in outdoor spaces. The clip, set against the dramatic backdrop of the French Alps, celebrated what the creator framed as a rare privilege: a mountain retreat free of ethnically diverse visitors, which he claimed as an exclusive space for white people. In his caption, he deployed the Arabic-derived French slang term “Wallah” in a derogatory swipe at visitors from working-class, majority-minority suburban neighborhoods known as banlieues, writing that the mountains were one of the few places “where you can feel safe.”

The post quickly sparked a brutal wave of support for its racist and Islamophobic message across French social media. Hundreds of commenters echoed the creator’s exclusionary rhetoric, demanding that ethnic minority residents of the banlieues remain confined to their neighborhoods. Vicious remarks such as “stay where you belong, in your Islamised districts” spread rapidly, paired with dehumanizing stereotypes that framed minority visitors as uncivilized: “Nature must stay clean. No peeing, no trash, no animal-like screaming.”

What followed, however, was an unexpected, humorous, and deeply political grassroots counter-movement that went viral under the slogan “Wallah, we’re coming” (or “On arrive” in French). Thousands of young people, Muslim women wearing hijabs, multi-generational families, and hikers from marginalized communities began posting their own photos and videos from trails, mountain peaks, forest clearings, and equestrian outings across France, boldly claiming their right to occupy spaces they say they have always deserved to access.

One of the earliest and most prominent participants in the movement is Zeynab Alabbar, co-founder and creative director of Kamak, a brand of modest athletic wear. Alabbar, who has worn the hijab since she was 8 years old, shared clips of herself and friends hiking shaded alpine trails and pausing to take in sweeping mountain views, captioning her post simply: “We love nature too.” The post quickly earned widespread support, including a note of thanks from prominent French-Algerian rapper Rim’k.

In an interview with Middle East Eye, Alabbar explained that the movement responded directly to a long-standing paradox of French integration discourse: ethnic minorities are repeatedly told they must assimilate, yet are systematically shut out from public spaces and activities that are supposed to belong to all citizens. Drawing a contrast between her experiences in her current home of Switzerland, where multiethnic groups routinely share alpine outdoor spaces without conflict, she noted that she has never faced anti-Muslim or racist harassment in Swiss mountains — but faces constant, unwelcome scrutiny as soon as she crosses into France. “By contrast, as soon as I arrive in France, people’s stares become heavy and unsettling. You can feel you’re not welcome,” she said.

Alabbar’s experience is far from unique. Jumia Alaoui, a 38-year-old mother from Essonne, just south of Paris, regularly hikes the Fontainebleau forest with a group of hijabi friends, and says she faces constant microaggressions and open hostility. “Some walkers stare at us as if our presence were out of place. Once, a man asked whether we weren’t too hot being covered from head to toe. We told him it was none of his business,” she recalled.

For Alaoui, the original racist TikTok video and its flood of supportive comments laid bare a growing culture of unapologetic racism that is increasingly validated by parts of France’s political establishment. Two years ago, she lost her job as a supermarket cashier after she refused to remove her headscarf for work, and she now fears growing anti-Muslim hostility will soon bar marginalized people from even leaving their homes. The far-right National Rally, led by Marine Le Pen, currently leads national polling ahead of the 2027 presidential election, and has pledged to ban the hijab from all public spaces if it wins power — a policy that has amplified fear among Muslim women across the country. Alaoui traces this expanding pattern of exclusion: “Before, young people from the banlieues were subjected to racial profiling at nightclub entrances. Now, women in burkinis are targeted in municipal swimming pools and at the beach. Even sports with the veil are banned,” she said, referencing a 2023 ruling by France’s highest administrative court that upheld the right of national sports federations to ban the Islamic veil from competition. “And as if all that weren’t enough, now they want to keep us out of the mountains.”

Academic researchers who study inequality in outdoor spaces say these accounts confirm long-documented patterns of systemic exclusion in alpine recreation. Lea Sallenave, a geography lecturer at the University of Geneva and a specialist in social domination and inequality in Alpine spaces, explains that modern recreational mountain culture was built by and for a dominant white demographic that has imposed its own social norms, creating a pervasive sense that non-white visitors do not belong. Her analysis of promotional materials for alpine ski resorts found that the overwhelming majority of imagery features only white visitors, erasing the presence of ethnic minorities entirely.

In a 2024 study of a municipal program in Grenoble that introduces banlieue youth to outdoor activities, Sallenave documented widespread experiences of racial exclusion, based on testimonies from program participants. Many participants told her that “the higher [they] climbed, the whiter the people [they] encountered seemed.” “What I want to show is that the mountain is not neutral, it is part of society. And if our society contains racism, classism and sexism, we will also find them in the mountains,” Sallenave told Middle East Eye. Working-class young people reported facing open racist harassment in ski resorts, while mountain industry staff shared accounts of regular hostility from white visitors toward minority groups.

These on-the-ground observations are echoed by Samir Souadji, founder and director of Apart, a Seine-Saint-Denis-based non-profit that brings vulnerable local youth to climbing, mountaineering, and outdoor programs to support personal and social development. Souadji says he faced institutional barriers early on, when major sports brands dismissed his organization’s mountain programming as unworthy of support. “When we said we wanted to do mountain activities, I felt we weren’t taken seriously,” he said.

When his groups do visit mountain areas, they regularly face open contempt and racist harassment. Returning to a base camp outside Chamonix one trip, a white hiker mocked the group, saying: “Here, you’re not in your council estate – these aren’t 13-storey towers you’re climbing.” On another occasion, two white hikers chuckled and asked if an “African congress” was scheduled in the area.

Leading sociologists say this hostility grows out of an exclusionary, nationalist understanding of national territory that frames non-white people as inherently “non-French.” Nacira Guénif-Souilamas, a sociologist and anthropologist at Paris VIII University, explains: “Some users behave as if they were the legitimate owners of the mountains and consider that not everyone is allowed to enjoy the beauty of the landscape. This exclusion reflects racist stereotypes weighing on Black and Arab people in France, denying them basic rights, including the right to enjoy nature. They are never considered French enough, no matter where they go – whether in the mountains or at the seaside.”

Souadji notes that most of the hostility his groups face does not come from long-time local mountain residents, who are generally welcoming, but from white city dwellers who treat the mountains as an exclusive leisure space for their demographic. “They are people we meet every day in the city, who can’t stand seeing us there in the same places as them,” he said. This constant stigmatization imposes a heavy psychological burden on minority hikers, Guénif-Souilamas explains: marginalized visitors are constantly under surveillance, suspected of being bad environmental stewards before they even arrive, and forced to maintain flawless behavior to “prove” they belong.

To push back against these stereotypes, Souadji emphasizes strict standards of respect for the land and other visitors for the young people he brings into the mountains. “I tell them that behaviour, respect for people and nature are extremely important to break the caricatured image imposed on us,” he said. Souadji has led numerous mountaineering expeditions across the globe, from Nepal and Kyrgyzstan to Bolivia and Norway, and notes that open hostility to ethnic minority hikers is a uniquely French phenomenon. “Strangely, everywhere else in the world we’re welcomed, except at home,” he said.

Nadir Dendoune, a French-Algerian writer and sponsor of the Apart non-profit, argues that the exclusion of ethnic minorities from mountain spaces is a direct legacy of French colonial ideology. Dendoune, who made global headlines when he climbed Mount Everest in 2008 with no prior mountaineering experience, planted a sign marked “93” — the department number for Seine-Saint-Denis — at the summit, and documented his journey in the book *A Loser on Top of the World*, which was later adapted into the feature film *The Climb*. For Dendoune, the idea that certain French spaces belong exclusively to white people is rooted in colonial-era hierarchies that continue to shape national culture decades after independence.