A girl with balloons in Roma flag colours, International Day of the Roma, Bucharest 2015. AP/V. Ghirda. All rights reserved.Terrorism. Sprawling camps for displaced people. Concrete walls and barbed-wire fences. Today, Europeans
confront a range of humanitarian and security crises; Romani people have long
experience facing these conditions.

In past decades, Europe’s 12 million Roma have been pursued
by neo-Nazi mobs in the Czech
Republic, murdered by right-wing terrorists in Hungary,
and forcibly removed from homes in France, Bulgaria, and Italy by
politicians who scapegoat them in pursuit of votes.

Last month, a Slovak neo-Nazi party that organized marches
against the Roma minority won 14 seats in the
150-strong Parliament. Recently, large numbers of Syrian refugees
have captivated the public’s attention; meanwhile, thousands of stateless Roma
have been living in miserable camps in Italy for nearly
four decades after fleeing post-Tito Yugoslavia in the 1980s and the Bosnian
war in the 1990s.

And yet, despite this reality, it is Europe that seems to be
on the verge of disintegration, while Romani people from across the continent –
and the world – are reclaiming their sense of history and belonging.

In a new stage in their struggle for recognition and
self-definition, Romani academics, public intellectuals, and civil society
leaders are gathering together to build a community based on shared
accomplishments rather than endured oppression. That effort is beginning to
show tangible results: soon, the European Roma Institute
for Arts and Culture will be established in a major European city
yet to be revealed.

This achievement is an extraordinary form of resilience,
and, as Europeans collectively struggle against a range of trends that threaten
their very existence – rising nationalism and xenophobia, failed migration
policies and the closing of previously open borders – we Roma have valuable
lessons to share.

We have been organizing
across generations and borders. Without resorting to violence or reclaiming a
nation, we came up with a simple claim: our place is in the centre of European
societies. This work began in earnest forty-five years ago this month, when Romani
artists and activists from across Europe gathered near London for the first
World Romani Congress to discuss their common identity.

They would no longer be
called “Gypsy”, a term often used pejoratively, but “Roma”, which means “people”
in the Romani language. “Gelem, Gelem” was made the international Romani anthem,
the blue and green flag with the red wheel was chosen as the official Romani
flag, and April 8 became an international day of celebration for Europe’s
largest ethnic minority.

The European Roma
Institute for Arts and Culture is a major culminating point of these efforts.
Out of more than 10,000 works by Roma artists in public collections throughout
Europe, only two are in
permanent exhibitions. This Institute will allow us to shape our own
voice and image and to reclaim our arts and culture.

Europeans would do
better to similarly embrace their commonality and successes instead of dwelling
on divisions and grievances. Roma have been constantly labelled a ‘problem’.
Recently, Europe is more and more discussed as an ‘issue’. We Roma are proving that
we can be the answer, not the problem. It would be tragic if the European
experiment failed just as we are finding our place within it. It’s time to look
to us for guidance, solutions, and inspiration.

The prominent Romanian
Roma activist Nicolae Gheorghe once said that “the relationship with Roma in
each society should serve as a kind of 'barometer' measuring the state of
democracy.” In his view, the Romani people are a sort of mirror, reflecting the
truth about how Europe deals with its past, its present, and its future.

If that’s the case, the
prognosis has never been better. The Roma can be a beacon of hope – a shift in
momentum away from fear and hatred and toward a more open and inclusive Europe.