Can the Olympics rejuvenate one of France's poorest neighborhoods?
Parisians are already grumbling about the crowds for this summer's Olympic Games. They imagine sweaty tourists blocking the subways, making the commute even more hellish. They plan their summer vacations; at worst, a 'télétravail' schedule to work from home.
But not Ivan Buyukocakm. As he looks at a corner known for its drug dealing, near his family's kebab shop in the low-income neighborhood just north of Paris, he sees that the upcoming Olympics herald something very different: opportunity.
“They are renovating the streets and fixing up buildings,” Mr. Buyukocakm said, as a woman in a light coat dragged a shopping cart toward a dilapidated housing project. “This area is going to be improved. Life can get better.”
That's the hope anyway. French officials have made a lofty promise for the 2024 Olympics: to leverage the 4.5 billion euros spent on infrastructure for the Games to transform one of the country's most notorious suburbs, Seine-Saint-Denis.
It is a densely populated department of 150 square kilometers northeast of Paris, includes forty small towns and has been synonymous with poverty, immigration and crime for generations. Now it will be home to an Olympic village that it is hoped will provide an economic jolt when the Games start in July, and lasting revitalization once the athletes leave.
Just down the street from Mr. Buyukocakm's shop, work is underway on a pharaonic 52-hectare project to transform a former industrial estate into a new high-rise district that promises to be filled with offices, restaurants and shops. Nearby, a new 5,000-seat Aquatic Center will become a sports center for locals.
The nearby stock of dilapidated social housing is being renovated. New roads, bridges, cycle paths, parks and schools are being added. There is also the promise of jobs and training for locals in a region plagued by persistent unemployment.
Only one question arises about the immense ambition: will it work?
“The question is how to convert no-go zones into welcome zones,” said Mathieu Hanotin, the Socialist mayor of St. Denis, the city that will receive much of the new Olympic infrastructure. “The Games are an incredible opportunity. They will allow us to change our image and also provide housing to help improve the social balance of the city.”
The challenges are enormous: unemployment in the region is over 10 percent – and double that in St.-Denis. Nearly a third of Seine-Saint-Denis residents live in poverty, and the social housing rate is almost 40 percent.
Known by the nickname 'le Quatre-Vingt Treize' or 93 – a reference to its postal code – Seine-Saint-Denis is littered with the carcasses of failed government rescue plans dating back to the 1970s. At the time, the region, an industrial hub since the 19th century, was losing auto and steel factories to cheaper countries, setting off a debilitating downward spiral.
The construction of the Stade de France – the national football stadium – in 1998 marked a turning point, creating new urban transport and attracting tourists as well as the headquarters of French blue chip companies. A lot of government programs were aimed at improving social housing and education.
None of that has been a panacea.
“The massive infrastructure efforts and visibility can be the right catalyst, but it won't solve all the problems,” says Agnes Audier, author of a report on Seine-Saint-Denis by the French think tank Institute Montaigne. “Poverty will not go away.”
The companies that moved their headquarters there usually brought their own white-collar workers, who commuted from Paris. Many residents, meanwhile, commute in the opposite direction – for lower-income jobs in the heart of Paris.
In 2005, amid persistent neglect, unemployment and police brutality, riots broke out in Seine-Saint-Denis. Part of the government's plan now includes strengthening security. France's Interior Ministry, which oversees the national police, says it will move its 2,500 staff from central Paris to new offices in the Olympic Village in 2025 – a move symbolic of these efforts.
Officials say the Olympics are a unique opportunity to change social dynamics for good, leaving a lasting legacy of urban and economic renewal. Local mayors use the Games to attract and accelerate other investments and to create or renovate affordable housing.
“The Olympics are an accelerator,” says Karim Bouamrane, the mayor of St.-Ouen, a small town next to St.-Denis. Among the Olympic gifts it has received are a renovated stadium and part of the Olympic Village, which crosses three municipal boundaries.
Like several mayors in nearby cities, Mr. Bouamrane has seized the international spotlight to raise and accelerate much-needed investment.
Tesla recently announced it will move its French headquarters to St.-Ouen, and Mr. Bouamrane has also lured new colleges, which he hopes will create a social and economic ripple effect.
Mr Bouamrane also used the Games to secure funding for a €500 million renovation of two dilapidated housing projects in his city. He wants to ensure that the Games improve the lives of many in his city, and not just in parts of it, especially around the Olympic Village.
From a distance, the village resembles a multi-colored forest, with about forty buildings rising to different heights in different shades and designs. After housing 14,500 athletes, the 2,800 new units will be converted into permanent homes for up to 6,000 people by the end of 2025.
A quarter of that will be reserved for public housing. About a third will be rented by government agencies as affordable housing to workers with modest incomes, as well as to students.
The rest is sold on the open market. But some are already warning that housing will be out of reach for many.
Cécile Gintrac is one of the founders of 'Olympics 2024 Vigilance', a watchdog group that has been vocal about the threat of gentrification. She said the units would cost a third more than the department average sales price last year. “They could never buy at that price,” she said.
Some charities have accused local authorities of carrying out 'social cleansing operations' by removing migrants and homeless people from Olympic venues. According to Antoine de Clerck, coordinator of Reverse Side of the Medal, a charity that helps vulnerable people, the government has displaced around 3,000 people from abandoned buildings and squats into better housing, albeit in more distant cities.
Nadia Bey, who lives a few blocks away in a public housing development, doubted the Olympic investments would improve her life.
She pointed to other modern apartment buildings recently built in an even larger eco-project called The Docks, which offered many of the same lofty promises.
“They have a pharmacy, a nice market, doctor's offices, restaurants,” said Ms. Bey, 45, a childcare worker, as she pushed a stroller out of her building complex, where rats were running along the sidewalk. “Come here and look at our park. Look at our stores. It's completely different. We have been completely let down.”
Although her building was among the renovation projects, it remained in doubt. “We'll see if it happens,” she said.
None of these concerns dampened the optimism of Henri Specht, the director of the Olympic Village. As he recently walked along a newly constructed promenade along the River Seine, he imagined how it would transform what was once an industrial bank into a pedestrian area where locals could practice the famous Parisian pastime flâner: strolling.
“It will completely change the way people live along the Seine,” said Mr Specht, who works for the state's Olympic construction company, Solideo, which has provided contracts for the games to some 30,000 people, 6 percent of whom previously was unemployed. residents of Seine-Saint-Denis.
“We always thought it would be a legacy after the Olympics,” he added. “We wanted to make sure it would make sense for the future generations who will live there.”
Shops, restaurants, bakeries and other small businesses will be called in to stimulate economic activity. Restaurants would be installed in old converted ships along the new Seine promenade.
Chedi Meftah, 40, a primary school sports instructor who lives nearby, looked on excitedly. “People used to not like going there. It was considered dangerous,” he said of the riverbank. “Now we can go for a walk or jog. That is one of the thousand advantages of this.”