As someone who arrived in Europe as a refugee years ago and later found a new home within the European Union, I have spent the past decade not only living under the protection of its laws and institutions but studying them with deep interest and hope. I learned the European treaties, the ideas behind the Union’s formation, and how a continent once divided by war managed to bind itself together through law, shared values, and a desire for peace.
As a Belgian citizen with Syrian roots and part of this European society, I find myself increasingly troubled.
As an EU citizen, as someone who believed in the ideals of integration, human rights, open borders, and solidarity. I find myself asking: where are these values heading? What is left of the European promise in an age of growing populism and global power shifts?
The EU was founded on the promise of “never again.”
Treaties like Schengen and Lisbon were more than legal documents — they were commitments to dignity, equality, and freedom. They formed the backbone of a continent that replaced suspicion with cooperation.
Yet today, these principles are quietly eroding. Internal border controls, once temporary exceptions, have become normalised. Countries like France, Germany, Austria, and Slovenia routinely extend these measures under vague justifications of “security” or “migration pressure.”
Worse still is the silence. Temporary exceptions become permanent habits. Humanitarian obligations are sacrificed for political convenience. The very core of European integration — free movement — is being chipped away, border by border.
The EU appears to be gradually emphasising a more security-oriented approach to managing its external borders. A considerable portion of funding is now allocated toward migration management, often involving enhanced security protocols and limited public disclosure. Southern and eastern states have been turned into gatekeepers, tasked with stopping migrants before they reach the heart of Europe.
This is not just a technical adjustment. It is a political choice. Migration has become a tool in domestic debates — a lightning rod for deeper anxieties about identity, cohesion, and economic uncertainty.
In Italy, Hungary, the Netherlands, Belgium, and beyond, populist parties have made immigration the centrepiece of their narratives. Not because migration numbers are overwhelming, but because fear is politically profitable.
The true challenge is not the presence of migrants — it is the EU’s declining ability to respond with unity, legality, and humanity.
Rightwing populism has reshaped the EU from within. Politicians once considered fringe now shape policy or dominate public discourse. They undermine the rule of law, attack judicial independence, and present EU values as elite impositions rather than shared aspirations.
This climate has redefined what it means to belong. A restrictive, exclusionary view of European identity is gaining traction — one that marginalizes those who look, speak, or think differently. This shift risks alienating many individuals who have made substantial contributions to European societies through work, education, and civic engagement.
In such a climate, European citizenship risks becoming conditional. If belonging hinges on birthplace or ethnicity rather than shared democratic values, the Union’s moral foundation begins to crumble.
Europe stands at a defining crossroads. One path leads to division and fear-driven policies; the other, to renewal through legal certainty, shared responsibility, and respect for human dignity.
This choice comes amid a shifting global order, with rising authoritarian powers and an increasingly unpredictable United States. The EU needs to decide: remain a fragmented economic bloc, or emerge as a principled global force?
The outcome will shape both its international role and its unity at home.
As someone who had and still can build new life in the EU, who is grateful for the second chance I was given in this continent after fleeing away from Syria in 2015, I believe in the EU — not as a perfect institution, but as a bold experiment in peace and cooperation.
But belief must be paired with vigilance. The values we celebrate are only as strong as our willingness to defend them when they are most under threat.
Migration, diversity, and inclusion are not burdens. They are assets. Migrants and their descendants contribute daily — in hospitals, schools, businesses, and beyond. Diversity strengthens Europe’s resilience, culture, and economy. Inclusion is not only a moral imperative, but a strategic one in an aging, competitive world.
Today, I ask: are we still committed to that promise? Or are we drifting toward a Europe defined more by its borders than its values?
This year, we turn 25 and are looking for 2,500 new supporting members to take their stake in EU democracy. A functioning EU relies on a well-informed public – you.
Alaa Jbour is a Syrian refugee who took Belgian citizenship, and now works as at the EU Commission’s Scientific Advice Mechanism. He arrived in Belgium in 2015, during the peak of migration from Syria to the EU, with a bachelor of English literature from Damascus university. After completing Dutch language studies at the University of Antwerp, he pursued a master’s degree in communication sciences.
Alaa Jbour is a Syrian refugee who took Belgian citizenship, and now works as at the EU Commission’s Scientific Advice Mechanism. He arrived in Belgium in 2015, during the peak of migration from Syria to the EU, with a bachelor of English literature from Damascus university. After completing Dutch language studies at the University of Antwerp, he pursued a master’s degree in communication sciences.