Russia's Recession Squeezes Migrants

Millions of Foreigners, Lured by Oil Boom, Now Face Bias in Ethnic Backlash

MOSCOW -- A few years ago, Alisher Azizov traveled by train to Moscow from Tajikistan in search of a better life, and he found it.

Working as a security guard and stock boy for a flower shop, the 32-year-old son of peasants earned about $1,000 a month, 15 times the average salary in his impoverished homeland and enough to support the extended family he left behind -- his wife, five sons, parents and seven siblings.

But a few weeks ago, his boss slashed his salary by two-thirds, blaming the global economic crisis that has battered Russia. At those wages, Azizov couldn't afford the rent for the cramped apartment he shares with several other migrant workers. So he found himself at the train station again, contemplating the long journey back to his home village.

"My father was so proud of me when I was sending my salary back home," Azizov said, standing in the grand Kazansky Rail Terminal with other workers who complained they had not been paid in months. "I was their hope here in Russia," he added. "They were hoping for stability."

Azizov is one of millions of migrant workers who were lured to Russia over the past eight years by its long oil boom -- and who are now struggling to get by as the country grapples with its worst recession in a decade. As the downturn deepens and companies cut costs, these workers have been among the first to be refused their wages and lose their jobs.

The plight of the estimated 12 million foreign workers in Russia -- the largest immigrant population in the world outside the United States -- will be felt in their home countries, primarily the former Soviet republics of Central Asia, where remittances account for as much as half of gross domestic product.

But it also poses a stark challenge for the Russian government, which must contend with a huge pool of alienated and unemployed immigrants in a society that has already seen a troubling increase in racially motivated violence.

Russia needs immigrants because its working-age population is shrinking drastically. But nationalist political rhetoric and rising unemployment are fueling a popular backlash against them. If the furor results in tighter immigration policies or an exodus of workers, activists warn, the Russian economy could suffer further damage.

The recession has already led to a sharp deterioration in conditions for these laborers, most of whom are here illegally and have few places to turn for help when they are refused pay or forced to toil in hazardous circumstances. Living standards are also grim. Seven Tajik workers were killed last month when a fire broke out in the Moscow parking garage where they lived.

"At home, their options are so much worse that they really take more risks. And employers want to cut corners," said Jane Buchanan, author of a new Human Rights Watch report on the exploitation of migrant construction workers in Russia. "I think it's a really dangerous time and a really crucial time."

The construction sector, which accounts for about 40 percent of immigrant jobs in Russia, has been hit particularly hard. Sixty to 80 construction projects have been halted in recent months, leaving as many as 30,000 immigrants unemployed, according to Artyom Tsogoyev, commercial director for the Moscow-based developer Galaxy Group.

Russia loosened its immigration policies toward citizens of the former Soviet republics two years ago, recognizing that a demographic crisis threatened to derail its economy. Largely because of a decline in fertility rates in the 1990s, the country's native workforce of about 90 million is expected to shrink by as many as a million people a year between 2010 and 2016. By 2025, Russia could have lost 10 million workers.