transitory social status of international migrants led to the search of affordable housing solutions. As a result, multiple forms of cohabitation, of shared apartments and precarious ways of living, emerged.

## 8.3 Inhabiting Trikoupi

Dina Vaiou (2007) define urban interstices as temporary situations in which pieces of the city become accessible to the most vulnerable and disempowered, most often for a relatively short period of time, before strong processes of urban change appear. The notion of “spatial interstice,” in particular, refers to abandoned, neglected, or marginal spaces underutilized by the locals: gardens, roundabouts, sidewalks, spaces at the margins of urban regeneration operations, wastelands undergoing regeneration, or planning operations that have failed. For vulnerable migrants and refugees, Trikoupi Street clearly is this kind of place: a place where they can find cheap rentals and even work opportunities.

But what kind of people inhabit Trikoupi today? How do they inhabit it? We use the term “inhabit” in a very broad sense, not limited to residents, in order to point to how the street has become a crossroad of different usages and practices. Such usages, as we shall see, are profoundly interconnected. Trikoupi is a place to settle, to shop, to work, to search for work. It is a place to settle since many immigrants, students and asylum seekers have their residence in the neighborhood. It is a place to shop, as goods from all over the world are sold. It is a crossroad, as migrants scattered across Cyprus congregate here on Sundays in order to meet friends, have drinks, get a haircut, buy food, or do deals. It is a meeting place for finding work: at the roundabout at the end of the street, male migrants assemble in the morning, waiting for employers to take them to work in the fields or in urban services. It is a workplace for shop owners and employees, as well as for the Turkophone Bulgarian sex workers who occupy the street's sidewalks. It is an ambiguous “emotional labour” place, a blurred zone between sex work and flirting, as migrant domestic workers rent flats to host boyfriends and clients during their free days. Finally, it is a religious place, since Trikoupi street is located near the Omerye mosque where Muslim residents and visitors come and pray.

Mass-media representations of the street's diversity tend to be negative. Some newspaper articles see Trikoupi as a “dangerous” area associated with criminality, ghettoization and prostitution – but other press articles see a symbol of Cyprus's positive multicultural identity. The articles adopting a negative view of Trikoupi's diversity tend to depict migrants as directly or indirectly responsible for the urban and social decay of the area, which is called a “ghetto of migrants”: “during the night you won't see any Greek-Cypriot, only migrants on the streets of the abandoned buildings” (“Three Problems” 2013). A documentary produced by a local TV channel, entitled “The Broken Shopfront of the Capital” (2015), underlined the point that the concentration of stores run by or for migrants went hand in hand with “dirt,” alcohol and the desertification of the area. At the same time, a very different
approach towards migrants in the city center is promulgated by alternative or more socially-oriented media. The life stories of migrants who have established themselves in the city in the prior decade are a mirror into the everyday life of “other” inhabitants for the Greek-Cypriot residents of Nicosia:

> In one or two neighborhoods they are gathered in an unplanned way, creating their own Babel, making or inheriting their own Nicosia. Even if they had to overcome several misfortunes, they created their own lives and they continued to shop, walk, get a haircut, have fun and live. Everyday stories of how the migrants of our capital live. Welcome to old Nicosia.

A similar approach appears in a documentary produced from the Home of Cooperation – its central slogan is “Cyprus always was and continues to be multicultural.”<fnref n="4" />

International migrants we met in Trikoupi describe the street and area as a resourceful place, a place to recover, in contrast to other segregated and punishing places in the country. For instance, many asylum seekers live in camps and isolated homes like Kofinou, an asylum seeker and refugee residence center with strict rules and conditions. Kofinou is isolated in the middle of the fields, rooms are in containers and shared by a large number of people, there is a curfew and a series of restrictions for residents (no cooking, no unauthorized visits, etc.). In this context, Trikoupi Street appears safer, a place of relief, a resourceful place where Kofinou residents can meet with friends, have drinks, chat or enjoy the street. The barber shop run by Cédric near Trikoupi is one of those meeting places: African asylum seekers originating from Congo, Cameroon or Ivory Coast meet there, not only to get a haircut but also to talk. The asylum speakers speak about the situation in Cyprus and their countries of origin but also more generally about politics, family life, and their current travails. The owner of the shop, who is married to a Cypriot national, states that he feels bad about his privileged situation, but admits to being worried about his co-nationals stuck in Kofinou with pending asylum claims that he is powerless to impact.

The same antithesis between Trikoupi and other places inhabited by migrants holds true for the case of women domestic workers. Mainly originating from Southeast Asia and especially the Philippines, Sri Lanka and India, they work and live in their employers' homes. The living and working conditions of domestic workers in Cyprus are quite poor; the wages are low, the workers have limited access to housing, and they are exposed to violence from their employers. For many of these women, the domestic space is a space of subjugation, without intimacy but with great vulnerability. Trikoupi appears as the antithesis of such a segregated and disempowering place. In this specific area, domestic workers find a temporary housing space on weekends and holidays – so-called “Sunday flats.” These flats respond to the need for an affordable private space within the city on weekends when the

<footnote n="4">⁴“Another world in the heart of Nicosia” (24 October 2010, in Greek), http://www.sigmalive.com/archive/simerini/news/social/318212; “A video that celebrates the multiculturality of Cyprus” (in Greek), at http://parathyro.com/2017/05/το-βίντεο-που-γιορτάζει-την-πολυπολιτ/</footnote>
approach towards migrants in the city center is promulgated by alternative or more socially-oriented media. The life stories of migrants who have established themselves in the city in the prior decade are a mirror into the everyday life of “other” inhabitants for the Greek-Cypriot residents of Nicosia:

> In one or two neighborhoods they are gathered in an unplanned way, creating their own Babel, making or inheriting their own Nicosia. Even if they had to overcome several misfortunes, they created their own lives and they continued to shop, walk, get a haircut, have fun and live. Everyday stories of how the migrants of our capital live. Welcome to old Nicosia.

A similar approach appears in a documentary produced from the Home of Cooperation – its central slogan is “Cyprus always was and continues to be multicultural.”<fnref n="4" />

International migrants we met in Trikoupi describe the street and area as a resourceful place, a place to recover, in contrast to other segregated and punishing places in the country. For instance, many asylum seekers live in camps and isolated homes like Kofinou, an asylum seeker and refugee residence center with strict rules and conditions. Kofinou is isolated in the middle of the fields, rooms are in containers and shared by a large number of people, there is a curfew and a series of restrictions for residents (no cooking, no unauthorized visits, etc.). In this context, Trikoupi Street appears safer, a place of relief, a resourceful place where Kofinou residents can meet with friends, have drinks, chat or enjoy the street. The barber shop run by Cédric near Trikoupi is one of those meeting places: African asylum seekers originating from Congo, Cameroon or Ivory Coast meet there, not only to get a haircut but also to talk. The asylum speakers speak about the situation in Cyprus and their countries of origin but also more generally about politics, family life, and their current travails. The owner of the shop, who is married to a Cypriot national, states that he feels bad about his privileged situation, but admits to being worried about his co-nationals stuck in Kofinou with pending asylum claims that he is powerless to impact.

The same antithesis between Trikoupi and other places inhabited by migrants holds true for the case of women domestic workers. Mainly originating from Southeast Asia and especially the Philippines, Sri Lanka and India, they work and live in their employers' homes. The living and working conditions of domestic workers in Cyprus are quite poor; the wages are low, the workers have limited access to housing, and they are exposed to violence from their employers. For many of these women, the domestic space is a space of subjugation, without intimacy but with great vulnerability. Trikoupi appears as the antithesis of such a segregated and disempowering place. In this specific area, domestic workers find a temporary housing space on weekends and holidays – so-called “Sunday flats.” These flats respond to the need for an affordable private space within the city on weekends when the

<footnote n="4">⁴“Another world in the heart of Nicosia” (24 October 2010, in Greek), http://www.sigmalive.com/archive/simerini/news/social/318212; “A video that celebrates the multiculturality of Cyprus” (in Greek), at http://parathyro.com/2017/05/το-βίντεο-που-γιορτάζει-την-πολυπολιτ/</footnote>
domestic workers do not have to work or stay with their employer. In a number of apartment building entrances, the advertisement “room for Sunday girls” is common. This flexible model of living in the city underlines the precarious and transitory social presence of this population and the active role in shaping that precarity by the country’s restrictive migration policies. In their flats Filipino women socialize with fellow nationals, exercise their religious habits and even engage in small businesses like second-hand clothes (which are sent to the Philippines in containers). For these women meeting other women, these Sunday flats on Tripouki Street are places for relaxation and sociability in a safe context.

## 8.4 Working-Class Partnerships, Work Relations, Moral Orders: Between Tensions and Cooperation

The most striking thing about the stores on Trikoupi Street is the diversity of origins of the migrants and traders. Most of the businesses are based on arrangements and unions – be they circumstantial or long-standing – that encompass different ethnicities and nationalities.

There are two common forms of partnerships. The first corresponds to what Pnina Werbner calls “working class cosmopolitanism”: some alliances are set on the basis of the common belonging to the working class. Nikolas, for instance, is a Cypriot citizen. While working in a fish factory in the 1990s, he befriended Rakib, a refugee from Bangladesh. In 2002 they decided to open a DVD shop. They later opened a supermarket/halal butcher. At the time there were very few butcher shops, so the business was very profitable, but over time there was more competition. Nikolas finally split with his Bangladeshi business partner. Today he owns a money transfer business in the same street. He has hired a Pakistani employee to facilitate business with Asian customers. He says he has many female clients from the Philippines: “life is difficult for them,” he says with empathy. On Trikoupi Street there are many stories like this, made up of a mix of friendship and curiosity towards the other in a context of limited resources. These stories speak to the capacity to engage with the other - which is commonplace in trade interactions - but also the fragility of partnerships.

Another type of cross-national alliance in Trikoupi is marriage between a citizen of Cyprus and a non-citizen or between a non-EU citizen and an EU citizen. The extent of intermarriage was seen by observing that most of the shops on the street are owned or managed by binational couples. How can this high rate of intermarriage be explained? For sure, the institutional context and the legal constraints imposed on foreigners wishing to establish a business have a strong responsibility: the impossibility of setting up a business if not Cypriot as well as the risk of deporation for many migrants contribute to an environment encouraging circumstantial marriages and alliances. However there seems to be also, in some of these marriages, something about a taste, an attraction towards a different other. These unions
domestic workers do not have to work or stay with their employer. In a number of apartment building entrances, the advertisement “room for Sunday girls” is common. This flexible model of living in the city underlines the precarious and transitory social presence of this population and the active role in shaping that precarity by the country’s restrictive migration policies. In their flats Filipino women socialize with fellow nationals, exercise their religious habits and even engage in small businesses like second-hand clothes (which are sent to the Philippines in containers). For these women meeting other women, these Sunday flats on Tripouki Street are places for relaxation and sociability in a safe context.

## 8.4 Working-Class Partnerships, Work Relations, Moral Orders: Between Tensions and Cooperation

The most striking thing about the stores on Trikoupi Street is the diversity of origins of the migrants and traders. Most of the businesses are based on arrangements and unions – be they circumstantial or long-standing – that encompass different ethnicities and nationalities.

There are two common forms of partnerships. The first corresponds to what Pnina Werbner calls “working class cosmopolitanism”: some alliances are set on the basis of the common belonging to the working class. Nikolas, for instance, is a Cypriot citizen. While working in a fish factory in the 1990s, he befriended Rakib, a refugee from Bangladesh. In 2002 they decided to open a DVD shop. They later opened a supermarket/halal butcher. At the time there were very few butcher shops, so the business was very profitable, but over time there was more competition. Nikolas finally split with his Bangladeshi business partner. Today he owns a money transfer business in the same street. He has hired a Pakistani employee to facilitate business with Asian customers. He says he has many female clients from the Philippines: “life is difficult for them,” he says with empathy. On Trikoupi Street there are many stories like this, made up of a mix of friendship and curiosity towards the other in a context of limited resources. These stories speak to the capacity to engage with the other - which is commonplace in trade interactions - but also the fragility of partnerships.

Another type of cross-national alliance in Trikoupi is marriage between a citizen of Cyprus and a non-citizen or between a non-EU citizen and an EU citizen. The extent of intermarriage was seen by observing that most of the shops on the street are owned or managed by binational couples. How can this high rate of intermarriage be explained? For sure, the institutional context and the legal constraints imposed on foreigners wishing to establish a business have a strong responsibility: the impossibility of setting up a business if not Cypriot as well as the risk of deporation for many migrants contribute to an environment encouraging circumstantial marriages and alliances. However there seems to be also, in some of these marriages, something about a taste, an attraction towards a different other. These unions
refer to very concrete, sensual and embodied forms of cosmopolitanism. Fared, for instance, is a Syrian citizen born in Cyprus in 1985. Though he did not need to marry an EU citizen for administrative purposes, he says he “likes Eastern women.” He has divorced his Polish wife but now has three different Ukrainian girlfriends.

It can be said that the type of cosmopolitanism described here is compelled and shaped by the unevenness of the situation. In other words, although Trikoupi is a resourceful place where people may like or empathize with one another, it is not yet a place where inequalities and subalternity are cancelled or suspended. Neighborhood life has an underlying rhythm of tensions and conflicts connected to different kinds of hierarchies intersecting in the neighborhood: legal/illegal, ethnic/non-ethnic, insider/outsider, business owner/keeper, etc. There is an important social distance between more established residents and newcomers, between the old waves of immigration that came to the neighborhood decades ago and the newly arrived refugees and migrants. This is particularly striking when it comes to the Arab community of Nicosia. On Trikoupi Street, eight shops are owned by an established and wealthy Syrian family of Turko-Cypriot origins. According to various talks with members of this family, they are descended from a Turko-Cypriot woman from a rural area who married a Syrian merchant who traveled to then-British-ruled Cyprus for business. In the mid-1960s the couple, spurred by the conflict in the island, moved to Kuwait. Their children and grandchildren settled in different cities in the Middle East but also Europe. Due to the Gulf War and the unstable situation in the Middle East, some of those who had settled in the region moved “back” to Nicosia where they acquired, thanks to their mixed origins, Cypriot citizenship and thus the right to own shops in Trikoupi. The family continues to build on these transnational ties and networks for the development of its shops and businesses. As an established family in business they hire newcomers such as Palestinians fleeing the Israeli occupation or Syrians fleeing the ongoing conflict to help and work in their shops. They also serve as a support for newly arrived refugees. In this way, the generation of arrival in Cyprus is very important for understanding the neighborhood’s hierarchies.

Other tensions that have emerged between groups are connected to the various usages of the street in terms of different “moral orders.” The neighborhood is a place for divergent and competing morals. For instance, drug sellers or sex workers are accused by local business owners of contributing to the area’s bad reputation. The owners of halal shops make distinctions between halal practices versus the haram. Others point to the difference between nightlife and daytime in Trikoupi. Politics is another source of tension. We have been told that some shopkeepers side with the racist-nationalist Cypriot ELAM supporters while others are much more tolerant and empathetic toward foreigners. The issue of migration, however, is strongly felt in the public debate and is also connected to debates on gentrification. Even when they are sympathetic towards migrants, though, shop tenants are ambivalent when it comes to personal relationships with immigrants. The changes in the neighborhood have had an objective impact on their situation and brought them to marginalized positions. They stand as a minority group in a street where the majority of the customers no longer want the goods they sell (such as souvlaki, a Greek-Cypriot food). This partly explains the nostalgic tone of some of them when talking about the area
refer to very concrete, sensual and embodied forms of cosmopolitanism. Fared, for instance, is a Syrian citizen born in Cyprus in 1985. Though he did not need to marry an EU citizen for administrative purposes, he says he “likes Eastern women.” He has divorced his Polish wife but now has three different Ukrainian girlfriends.

It can be said that the type of cosmopolitanism described here is compelled and shaped by the unevenness of the situation. In other words, although Trikoupi is a resourceful place where people may like or empathize with one another, it is not yet a place where inequalities and subalternity are cancelled or suspended. Neighborhood life has an underlying rhythm of tensions and conflicts connected to different kinds of hierarchies intersecting in the neighborhood: legal/illegal, ethnic/non-ethnic, insider/outsider, business owner/keeper, etc. There is an important social distance between more established residents and newcomers, between the old waves of immigration that came to the neighborhood decades ago and the newly arrived refugees and migrants. This is particularly striking when it comes to the Arab community of Nicosia. On Trikoupi Street, eight shops are owned by an established and wealthy Syrian family of Turko-Cypriot origins. According to various talks with members of this family, they are descended from a Turko-Cypriot woman from a rural area who married a Syrian merchant who traveled to then-British-ruled Cyprus for business. In the mid-1960s the couple, spurred by the conflict in the island, moved to Kuwait. Their children and grandchildren settled in different cities in the Middle East but also Europe. Due to the Gulf War and the unstable situation in the Middle East, some of those who had settled in the region moved “back” to Nicosia where they acquired, thanks to their mixed origins, Cypriot citizenship and thus the right to own shops in Trikoupi. The family continues to build on these transnational ties and networks for the development of its shops and businesses. As an established family in business they hire newcomers such as Palestinians fleeing the Israeli occupation or Syrians fleeing the ongoing conflict to help and work in their shops. They also serve as a support for newly arrived refugees. In this way, the generation of arrival in Cyprus is very important for understanding the neighborhood’s hierarchies.

Other tensions that have emerged between groups are connected to the various usages of the street in terms of different “moral orders.” The neighborhood is a place for divergent and competing morals. For instance, drug sellers or sex workers are accused by local business owners of contributing to the area’s bad reputation. The owners of halal shops make distinctions between halal practices versus the haram. Others point to the difference between nightlife and daytime in Trikoupi. Politics is another source of tension. We have been told that some shopkeepers side with the racist-nationalist Cypriot ELAM supporters while others are much more tolerant and empathetic toward foreigners. The issue of migration, however, is strongly felt in the public debate and is also connected to debates on gentrification. Even when they are sympathetic towards migrants, though, shop tenants are ambivalent when it comes to personal relationships with immigrants. The changes in the neighborhood have had an objective impact on their situation and brought them to marginalized positions. They stand as a minority group in a street where the majority of the customers no longer want the goods they sell (such as souvlaki, a Greek-Cypriot food). This partly explains the nostalgic tone of some of them when talking about the area
in the past. But these shopkeepers are not necessarily angry at immigrants. As one shopkeeper puts it:

Trikoupi was full of shops; now it is full of foreigners. We were selling at least 300 souvlaki a day. There were shoemakers, industries, businesses. All Trikoupi was full of 'our' shops. Christofias (former president of Cyprus) was having lunch here everyday. Same for Hasikos (another political personality) or Eleni Mavrou (former mayor). Now it is just a foreigners' area.

## 8.5 Conclusion

The street is a crossroads for many kinds of different populations, the vast majority of which belong to working class and subaltern groups. Unlike upper-class groups, they did not choose and valorize their type of life. Some even complain about it, viewing the presence of other national groups as damaging the neighborhood. Thus, the kind of cosmopolitanism we describe here is of an everyday, banalised, vernacular and circumstantial kind. It is also a suspended cosmopolitanism, embedded in the city's spatial and temporal interstices. Linked to the history of conflict of the old city of Nicosia, the specific status of Trikoupi Street is also connected with the cycle of urban development and may change abruptly if there is an acceleration of the process of urban regeneration. This temporary and banal cosmopolitanism is also embedded within uneven/hierarchized citizenship regimes. As such, it is, a form of subaltern and fragile cosmopolitanism. The case of Trikoupi Street shows how looking at street-level cosmopolitanism helps to better situate broader processes of domination, politics of propinquity (Amin 2002) and the way micro-geographies of power are enacted at the local scale (Massey 1999). It also reveals how cosmopolitanism from below, like upper-class cosmopolitism, is connected to domination and inequality and embedded in a specific moment. The question that remains is about generalization. Is cosmopolitanism from below inherently stratified and connected to power relations? In the context of global urbanization and capitalism is it meant to stay temporary; is cosmopolitanism from below just a specific moment?

## References

* 24.com. (2017). *Cyprus: A country cheating students?* 15 May. At https://24h.com.cy/society/item/151661-i-kypros-xora-expatisis-foititon.html? templ=component&print=1

* AIDA-ECRE. (2018). *Cyprus: Country report*. At https://www.asylumineurope.org/reports/country/cyprus

* Amin, A. (2002). Ethnicity and the multicultural city: Living with diversity. *Environment and Planning A*, 34, 959–980.

* Amin, A., & Thrift, N. (2002). *Cities: Reimagining the urban*. Cambridge: Polity Press.

* Carmenos, Y., & Sabrié, M. (2017). Effacer la frontière: nouvelles pratiques urbaines et sociales dans la vieille ville méridionale de Nicosie, Chypre. *L'Espace Politique* 33. Online at http://journals.openedition.org/espacepolitique/4458
in the past. But these shopkeepers are not necessarily angry at immigrants. As one shopkeeper puts it:

Trikoupi was full of shops; now it is full of foreigners. We were selling at least 300 souvlaki a day. There were shoemakers, industries, businesses. All Trikoupi was full of 'our' shops. Christofias (former president of Cyprus) was having lunch here everyday. Same for Hasikos (another political personality) or Eleni Mavrou (former mayor). Now it is just a foreigners' area.

## 8.5 Conclusion

The street is a crossroads for many kinds of different populations, the vast majority of which belong to working class and subaltern groups. Unlike upper-class groups, they did not choose and valorize their type of life. Some even complain about it, viewing the presence of other national groups as damaging the neighborhood. Thus, the kind of cosmopolitanism we describe here is of an everyday, banalised, vernacular and circumstantial kind. It is also a suspended cosmopolitanism, embedded in the city's spatial and temporal interstices. Linked to the history of conflict of the old city of Nicosia, the specific status of Trikoupi Street is also connected with the cycle of urban development and may change abruptly if there is an acceleration of the process of urban regeneration. This temporary and banal cosmopolitanism is also embedded within uneven/hierarchized citizenship regimes. As such, it is, a form of subaltern and fragile cosmopolitanism. The case of Trikoupi Street shows how looking at street-level cosmopolitanism helps to better situate broader processes of domination, politics of propinquity (Amin 2002) and the way micro-geographies of power are enacted at the local scale (Massey 1999). It also reveals how cosmopolitanism from below, like upper-class cosmopolitism, is connected to domination and inequality and embedded in a specific moment. The question that remains is about generalization. Is cosmopolitanism from below inherently stratified and connected to power relations? In the context of global urbanization and capitalism is it meant to stay temporary; is cosmopolitanism from below just a specific moment?

## References

24.com. (2017). *Cyprus: A country cheating students?* 15 May. At https://24h.com.cy/society/item/151661-i-kypros-xora-expatisis-foititon.html? templ=component&print=1

AIDA-ECRE. (2018). *Cyprus: Country report*. At https://www.asylumineurope.org/reports/country/cyprus

Amin, A. (2002). Ethnicity and the multicultural city: Living with diversity. *Environment and Planning A*, 34, 959–980.

Amin, A., & Thrift, N. (2002). *Cities: Reimagining the urban*. Cambridge: Polity Press.

Carmenos, Y., & Sabrié, M. (2017). Effacer la frontière: nouvelles pratiques urbaines et sociales dans la vieille ville méridionale de Nicosie, Chypre. *L'Espace Politique* 33. Online at http://journals.openedition.org/espacepolitique/4458
Commissioner for Administration and Human Rights (Ombudsman). (2019). *Report of the Ombudsman: Legal framework on the material conditions of receptions of Asylum Seekers that live outside the reception center*. Nicosia. At http://www.ombudsman.gov.cy/Ombudsman/Ombudsman.nsf/All/DCA7E9260217FA42C2258415003552AD/$file/%C_E%91%CE%A01799_2016_06062019.pdf?OpenElement&fbclid=IwAR0o1D5VWbMgi_bqzhyBBsizO7d-fliZ5ia1YNpCHusP2P8AzzAHDoRBOaU (in Greek).

Cystat. (2015). *National Census of Population 2011: General demographic characteristics, migration and labour force*. Number 21. Cyprus, Republic of Cyprus.

Eurostat. (2019). *Migration and migrant population statistics*. At https://ec.europa.eu/eurostat/statistics-explained/pdfscache/1275.pdf

Glick Schiller, N., & Cağlar, A. (Eds.). (2011). *Locating migration: Rescaling cities and migrants*. Ithaca: Cornell University Press.

Hall, S. (2013). Super-diverse street: A ‘Transethography’ across migrant localities. *Ethnic and Racial Studies, 38*(1), 22–37. https://doi.org/10.1080/01419870.2013.858175.

Massey, D. (1999). Imagining globalization: Power-geometries of time-space. In *Global futures* (pp. 27–44). London: Palgrave Macmillan.

"Three Problems in Nicosia's Inner City." 26 April 2013. At http://archive.philenews.com/el-gr/eidiseis-topika/43/142803/treis-esties-provlimaton-stin-palia-lefkosa (in Greek).

Trimikliniotis, N. (2016). The migration question, political parties and the Cypriot state of Dissensus. In G. Charalambous & C. Christophorou (Eds.), *Party-society relations in the Republic of Cyprus, political and societal strategies* (pp. 1–26). London: Routledge.

UNHCR Cyprus. (2018). *The living conditions of asylum-seekers in Cyprus*. Nicosia: University of Nicosia.

Vaiou, D. (Ed.). (2007). Intersecting patterns of everyday life and socio-spatial transformations in the city. *Migrant and local women in the neighborhoods of Athens*. Athens: NTUA L-Press.

**Open Access** This chapter is licensed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits use, sharing, adaptation, distribution and reproduction in any medium or format, as long as you give appropriate credit to the original author(s) and the source, provide a link to the Creative Commons license and indicate if changes were made.

The images or other third party material in this chapter are included in the chapter's Creative Commons license, unless indicated otherwise in a credit line to the material. If material is not included in the chapter's Creative Commons license and your intended use is not permitted by statutory regulation or exceeds the permitted use, you will need to obtain permission directly from the copyright holder.

<figure><img src="image_24.png" /></figure>
Commissioner for Administration and Human Rights (Ombudsman). (2019). *Report of the Ombudsman: Legal framework on the material conditions of receptions of Asylum Seekers that live outside the reception center*. Nicosia. At http://www.ombudsman.gov.cy/Ombudsman/Ombudsman.nsf/All/DCA7E9260217FA42C2258415003552AD/$file/%C_E%91%CE%A01799_2016_06062019.pdf?OpenElement&fbclid=IwAR0o1D5VWbMgi_bqzhyBBsizO7d-fliZ5ia1YNpCHusP2P8AzzAHDoRBOaU (in Greek).

Cystat. (2015). *National Census of Population 2011: General demographic characteristics, migration and labour force*. Number 21. Cyprus, Republic of Cyprus.

Eurostat. (2019). *Migration and migrant population statistics*. At https://ec.europa.eu/eurostat/statistics-explained/pdfscache/1275.pdf

Glick Schiller, N., & Cağlar, A. (Eds.). (2011). *Locating migration: Rescaling cities and migrants*. Ithaca: Cornell University Press.

Hall, S. (2013). Super-diverse street: A ‘Transethography’ across migrant localities. *Ethnic and Racial Studies, 38*(1), 22–37. https://doi.org/10.1080/01419870.2013.858175.

Massey, D. (1999). Imagining globalization: Power-geometries of time-space. In *Global futures* (pp. 27–44). London: Palgrave Macmillan.

"Three Problems in Nicosia's Inner City." 26 April 2013. At http://archive.philenews.com/el-gr/eidiseis-topika/43/142803/treis-esties-provlimaton-stin-palia-lefkosa (in Greek).

Trimikliniotis, N. (2016). The migration question, political parties and the Cypriot state of Dissensus. In G. Charalambous & C. Christophorou (Eds.), *Party-society relations in the Republic of Cyprus, political and societal strategies* (pp. 1–26). London: Routledge.

UNHCR Cyprus. (2018). *The living conditions of asylum-seekers in Cyprus*. Nicosia: University of Nicosia.

Vaiou, D. (Ed.). (2007). Intersecting patterns of everyday life and socio-spatial transformations in the city. *Migrant and local women in the neighborhoods of Athens*. Athens: NTUA L-Press.

**Open Access** This chapter is licensed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits use, sharing, adaptation, distribution and reproduction in any medium or format, as long as you give appropriate credit to the original author(s) and the source, provide a link to the Creative Commons license and indicate if changes were made.

The images or other third party material in this chapter are included in the chapter's Creative Commons license, unless indicated otherwise in a credit line to the material. If material is not included in the chapter's Creative Commons license and your intended use is not permitted by statutory regulation or exceeds the permitted use, you will need to obtain permission directly from the copyright holder.

<figure><img src="image_24.png" /></figure>
<figure><img src="image_25.png" /></figure>

Chapter 9

Branding Cosmopolitanism and Place
Making in Saint Laurent Boulevard,
Montreal

Marie-Laure Poulot

9.1 Introduction

As a social and subjective construction, cosmopolitanism can take many forms
since there is no consensus around its definition: for some authors, “it is a sort of
‘empty signifier’ to be filled with specific and often rather different contents in dif-
ferently situated cultural worlds” (Vanolo 2017, 8; see also Binnie et al. 2006;
Söderström 2006). Even if expressions other than cosmopolitanism are used in
Montreal such as multiculturalism, interculturalism (for Quebec, in contradistinc-
tion to the rest of Canada<fnref n="1" />) or cultural diversity, I have chosen to use the concept of
cosmopolitanism exactly for its multiple significations. Following David Hollinger
(1995), I prefer cosmopolitanism rather than multiculturalism, which tends to divide
society into homogenous and closed cultural communities, where each individual
should identify with one single group. Cosmopolitanism values individuality and a
non-exclusive affiliation to a plurality of groups that are constantly evolving
(Hollinger 1995). In Montreal, the empirical realities observed on the ground reflect
the four main dimensions of cosmopolitanism. There is a diverse population linked
to the rise of international migration in a globalized world. There is a political cos-
mopolitanism which questions “Montrealness” between openness to alterity and
Quebec nationalism (Létourneau 2003) as well as a commodified cosmopolitanism
or “consumerist cosmopolitanism” (Calhoun 2002) which is used as a tool to
branding the city (Hemelryk et al. 2009; Kavaratzis and Ashworth 2005). Finally,
there is everyday cosmopolitanism. A growing literature has framed

<footnote n="1">¹Quebec province proclaims its specificity with its intercultural policy to distance itself from the wider Canadian policy of multiculturalism established to hush up claims for Quebec sovereignty and to merge French-Canadian identity into a Canadian one (Kymlicka 1998).</footnote>
<figure><img src="image_25.png" /></figure>

Chapter 9

Branding Cosmopolitanism and Place
Making in Saint Laurent Boulevard,
Montreal

Marie-Laure Poulot

9.1 Introduction

As a social and subjective construction, cosmopolitanism can take many forms
since there is no consensus around its definition: for some authors, “it is a sort of
‘empty signifier’ to be filled with specific and often rather different contents in dif-
ferently situated cultural worlds” (Vanolo 2017, 8; see also Binnie et al. 2006;
Söderström 2006). Even if expressions other than cosmopolitanism are used in
Montreal such as multiculturalism, interculturalism (for Quebec, in contradistinc-
tion to the rest of Canada<fnref n="1" />) or cultural diversity, I have chosen to use the concept of
cosmopolitanism exactly for its multiple significations. Following David Hollinger
(1995), I prefer cosmopolitanism rather than multiculturalism, which tends to divide
society into homogenous and closed cultural communities, where each individual
should identify with one single group. Cosmopolitanism values individuality and a
non-exclusive affiliation to a plurality of groups that are constantly evolving
(Hollinger 1995). In Montreal, the empirical realities observed on the ground reflect
the four main dimensions of cosmopolitanism. There is a diverse population linked
to the rise of international migration in a globalized world. There is a political cos-
mopolitanism which questions “Montrealness” between openness to alterity and
Quebec nationalism (Létourneau 2003) as well as a commodified cosmopolitanism
or “consumerist cosmopolitanism” (Calhoun 2002) which is used as a tool to
branding the city (Hemelryk et al. 2009; Kavaratzis and Ashworth 2005). Finally,
there is everyday cosmopolitanism. A growing literature has framed

<footnote n="1">¹Quebec province proclaims its specificity with its intercultural policy to distance itself from the wider Canadian policy of multiculturalism established to hush up claims for Quebec sovereignty and to merge French-Canadian identity into a Canadian one (Kymlicka 1998).</footnote>
cosmopolitanism as an everyday experience or an “ordinary cosmopolitanism” that “emerges from interactions in encounters between individuals” (Plage et al. 2017: 4) and “urban alchemy” (Müller 2011). I use this concept to analyze the space of Saint Lawrence Boulevard in Montréal, also called the Main in reference to Main Street.

Saint-Lawrence Boulevard is a landmark for Montreal, cutting the isle from the south to the north in two halves, and the place where address numbers start. It manifests the gap between “two solitudes” (MacLennan 1945) – the French-speaking eastern part of the city and the English-speaking areas in the western part. It is also a bond, a passage and a melting place, where immigrants settled throughout the twentieth century. The street serves as a real backbone through several neighborhoods it runs through: Little Italy in the north, Portuguese and Jewish communities in the central sector and Chinatown in the south (see Fig. 9.1). The names of these streets and neighborhoods once symbolized poverty, marginalized communities or ghettos. And in many narratives of Montreal’s social geography, “this ‘immigrant’ or ‘ethnic corridor’ was seen as a world apart, a buffer zone between the French and the English. This space, unlike the supposedly homogeneous English and French blocs, was recognized as a cosmopolitan milieu” (Germain and Rose 2000, 215). These neighborhoods are not enclaves but instead show changing boundaries in their exchanges and overlapping. Thus, there is not a strong partition between communities; instead, it is their co-presence that creates cosmopolitanism.

> By the early 20th century the Main had become a cosmopolitan highway, a “third city,” neither French, nor English, along which each ethnic group passed. Some rested there only briefly, others for a longer time. There was a constant ebb and flow, one group replacing another as soon as a vacuum formed. (Gubbay 1989, 57)

But these neighborhoods have been undergoing processes of both social and urban change as well as gentrification. Cosmopolitanism has spread throughout the city and is no longer reduced to the Main: migrants are now present everywhere in the city as well as in the suburbs. But still, in many scholarly or popular narratives, the boulevard is described as cosmopolitan and as a unique place in the city.

This article is based on my doctoral thesis on the geography of cosmopolitanism through narratives, practices and representations. I conducted fieldwork between 2011 and 2013 and used qualitative methodology, based on interviews, observation on the street at different times of the day (and during special events), analyses of official documentation and literature (novels and plays).

I focus on cosmopolitanism as a way to promote the urban space. Why does this image of a cosmopolitan place still define Saint-Lawrence/St-Laurent Boulevard? How is cosmopolitan branding produced and by whom? What impact does it have on representations of pedestrians and inhabitants? After showing that cosmopolitanism is used as a brand for the city of Montreal as a whole, I focus on Saint Lawrence Boulevard, which has been designated as a national heritage site for its very cosmopolitanism. Then I study different approaches of branding cosmopolitanism put into practice by commercial stakeholders in two different sections of the boulevard. Finally, I question the reactions of the inhabitants toward these branding strategies.
cosmopolitanism as an everyday experience or an “ordinary cosmopolitanism” that “emerges from interactions in encounters between individuals” (Plage et al. 2017: 4) and “urban alchemy” (Müller 2011). I use this concept to analyze the space of Saint Lawrence Boulevard in Montréal, also called the Main in reference to Main Street.

Saint-Lawrence Boulevard is a landmark for Montreal, cutting the isle from the south to the north in two halves, and the place where address numbers start. It manifests the gap between “two solitudes” (MacLennan 1945) – the French-speaking eastern part of the city and the English-speaking areas in the western part. It is also a bond, a passage and a melting place, where immigrants settled throughout the twentieth century. The street serves as a real backbone through several neighborhoods it runs through: Little Italy in the north, Portuguese and Jewish communities in the central sector and Chinatown in the south (see Fig. 9.1). The names of these streets and neighborhoods once symbolized poverty, marginalized communities or ghettos. And in many narratives of Montreal’s social geography, “this ‘immigrant’ or ‘ethnic corridor’ was seen as a world apart, a buffer zone between the French and the English. This space, unlike the supposedly homogeneous English and French blocs, was recognized as a cosmopolitan milieu” (Germain and Rose 2000, 215). These neighborhoods are not enclaves but instead show changing boundaries in their exchanges and overlapping. Thus, there is not a strong partition between communities; instead, it is their co-presence that creates cosmopolitanism.

> By the early 20th century the Main had become a cosmopolitan highway, a “third city,” neither French, nor English, along which each ethnic group passed. Some rested there only briefly, others for a longer time. There was a constant ebb and flow, one group replacing another as soon as a vacuum formed. (Gubbay 1989, 57)

But these neighborhoods have been undergoing processes of both social and urban change as well as gentrification. Cosmopolitanism has spread throughout the city and is no longer reduced to the Main: migrants are now present everywhere in the city as well as in the suburbs. But still, in many scholarly or popular narratives, the boulevard is described as cosmopolitan and as a unique place in the city.

This article is based on my doctoral thesis on the geography of cosmopolitanism through narratives, practices and representations. I conducted fieldwork between 2011 and 2013 and used qualitative methodology, based on interviews, observation on the street at different times of the day (and during special events), analyses of official documentation and literature (novels and plays).

I focus on cosmopolitanism as a way to promote the urban space. Why does this image of a cosmopolitan place still define Saint-Lawrence/St-Laurent Boulevard? How is cosmopolitan branding produced and by whom? What impact does it have on representations of pedestrians and inhabitants? After showing that cosmopolitanism is used as a brand for the city of Montreal as a whole, I focus on Saint Lawrence Boulevard, which has been designated as a national heritage site for its very cosmopolitanism. Then I study different approaches of branding cosmopolitanism put into practice by commercial stakeholders in two different sections of the boulevard. Finally, I question the reactions of the inhabitants toward these branding strategies.
<figure><img src="image_26.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 9.1 Saint Laurent Boulevard in Montreal</figcaption></figure>
<figure><img src="image_26.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 9.1 Saint Laurent Boulevard in Montreal</figcaption></figure>
## 9.2 City Branding in Montreal: Cosmopolitanism of the Saint-Laurent Boulevard

If cosmopolitanism is often mobilized in city branding, it is especially so in Montreal, where institutional documents, tourist guides and the media all emphasize “the cosmopolitan city’s vaunted bilingualism” (Bilefsky 2017) and claim that “Montreal’s cosmopolitan charm [that] still seduces travelers” (Zach 2017). “Welcoming and cosmopolitan, Montréal embraces people from all over the world, who make up 20% of the city’s population” (Ville de Montréal 2017). Place branding can be defined as a

> concept in policymaking that draws together a number of strategies and practices carried out primarily by local governments. The objective of place branding is to attract mobile resources to a certain place, commonly in the form of social, economic or cultural capital, in response to the apprehension of increasing competition between places. (Andersson 2015, 17)

In order to be attractive for the creative class, a city has to be cosmopolitan (Florida 2002, 227) and this idea is used by politicians and economic stakeholders, notably in branding places, where “marketing and consumption have a significant role in giving economic value to difference” (Vanolo 2017, 9).

In Montreal, the cosmopolitan urban imaginary is used for both economic and political purposes to develop and attract investors, tourists and new dwellers and to present the metropolis differently from the rest of Canada and the United States. Branding cosmopolitanism in Montreal tends to mix both the brand image destined to foreigners and the urban imaginary shaped by and for inhabitants. These dis courses come from different stakeholders, such as economic agents, the advertising and tourist sector or even the City<fnref n="2" /> (and the districts). The Main and its “ethnic neighborhoods,” which have been officially recognized by the municipality (Chinatown, Little Italy and the central section with Jewish, Portuguese and Spanish communities), are present in tourist guides for Montrealers and international tour- ants. The City has also baptized some of the places along the boulevard with top- onyms linked to the old immigration, such as park of Portugal or Açores Park in the Portuguese sector.

In this cosmopolitan branding and recognition of the city, the boulevard is one of the most important places since it concentrates the old ethnic neighborhoods. I thus focused on the scale of the street to study cosmopolitanism (Hall 2012). The scale of the street brings together several scales: local ones – the street, the neighborhood, the block, public places and squares and shops and businesses – but also provincial and federal ones as the boulevard Saint-Laurent was designated a national heritage

<footnote n="2">²There are also political directives and documents which assert the cosmopolitan vision of the city. See, for example, Montreal Declaration for Cultural Diversity and Inclusion (2004), at http://ville.montreal.qc.ca/pls/portal/docs/PAGE/CHARTE_MTL_FR/MEDIA/DOCUMENTS/Declaration_diversite_inclusion_2004_en.pdf</footnote>
## 9.2 City Branding in Montreal: Cosmopolitanism of the Saint-Laurent Boulevard

If cosmopolitanism is often mobilized in city branding, it is especially so in Montreal, where institutional documents, tourist guides and the media all emphasize “the cosmopolitan city’s vaunted bilingualism” (Bilefsky 2017) and claim that “Montreal’s cosmopolitan charm [that] still seduces travelers” (Zach 2017). “Welcoming and cosmopolitan, Montréal embraces people from all over the world, who make up 20% of the city’s population” (Ville de Montréal 2017). Place branding can be defined as a

> concept in policymaking that draws together a number of strategies and practices carried out primarily by local governments. The objective of place branding is to attract mobile resources to a certain place, commonly in the form of social, economic or cultural capital, in response to the apprehension of increasing competition between places. (Andersson 2015, 17)

In order to be attractive for the creative class, a city has to be cosmopolitan (Florida 2002, 227) and this idea is used by politicians and economic stakeholders, notably in branding places, where “marketing and consumption have a significant role in giving economic value to difference” (Vanolo 2017, 9).

In Montreal, the cosmopolitan urban imaginary is used for both economic and political purposes to develop and attract investors, tourists and new dwellers and to present the metropolis differently from the rest of Canada and the United States. Branding cosmopolitanism in Montreal tends to mix both the brand image destined to foreigners and the urban imaginary shaped by and for inhabitants. These discourses come from different stakeholders, such as economic agents, the advertising and tourist sector or even the City<fnref n="2" /> (and the districts). The Main and its “ethnic neighborhoods,” which have been officially recognized by the municipality (Chinatown, Little Italy and the central section with Jewish, Portuguese and Spanish communities), are present in tourist guides for Montrealers and international tourists. The City has also baptized some of the places along the boulevard with toponyms linked to the old immigration, such as park of Portugal or Açores Park in the Portuguese sector.

In this cosmopolitan branding and recognition of the city, the boulevard is one of the most important places since it concentrates the old ethnic neighborhoods. I thus focused on the scale of the street to study cosmopolitanism (Hall 2012). The scale of the street brings together several scales: local ones – the street, the neighborhood, the block, public places and squares and shops and businesses – but also provincial and federal ones as the boulevard Saint-Laurent was designated a national heritage

<footnote n="2">²There are also political directives and documents which assert the cosmopolitan vision of the city. See, for example, Montreal Declaration for Cultural Diversity and Inclusion (2004), at http://ville.montreal.qc.ca/pls/portal/docs/PAGE/CHARTE_MTL_FR/MEDIA/DOCUMENTS/Declaration_diversite_inclusion_2004_en.pdf</footnote>
site by The Historic Sites and Monuments Board of Canada in 1996 (Fulton and Vermette 1996).

## 9.3 Narrating an Idealized Cosmopolitanism as Heritage

History and also literary fiction are used by Park Canada<fnref n="3" /> to describe boulevard Saint-Laurent as a place that shows several waves of immigration. The commemorative plaques at both ends of the street (in the old port and Little Italy) describe the boulevard's heritage site status in the following terms:

> Along this strong sinewy backbone of Montréal, in a kaleidoscope of neighborhoods such as Chinatown, the Jewish and Portuguese quarters, and Little Italy, a vibrant, cosmopolitan heart for the city has been forged.

Literary fiction, both English-language and French-language, has contributed to the conception of the Main as a symbolic cosmopolitan place in the urban imagination of Montreal and as a national heritage. The boulevard holds an important place in the works of renowned authors like Mordecai Richler or Michel Tremblay as well as in more recent novels and plays. These narratives – fictions but also non-fictions – tend to convey the image of a small-scale neighborhood landscape with close social ties and a multiethnic history. Even though many immigrant communities left to settle elsewhere in the city, contemporary narratives plough back into old ones: it is this very period of waves of immigration which is passed on in the collective memory as one of tolerance, brotherhood and belonging. These narratives create a nos-talgic image of the whole street and of some surrounding neighborhoods.

One of the neighborhoods of the boulevard, Mile End, is often described as the personification of cosmopolitanism, a “plural and hybrid social reality” (Simon 1999, 23) or “the crystallization of an emerging montrealness” (Olazabal 2006, 8). For example, the official touristic presentation of Mile End says,

> Like any neighborhood with flavor, it's the cultural layers that have made Mile End what it is today. Living side by side is an engaging mix of communities: Hassidic Jewish, Greek, Italian, anglophone and others who have given it its special brand of energy and kick. Expect kosher stores and bakeries and little boys with traditional side curls zipping by on scooters. (Tourism Montreal, official site)

This sector of Mile End represents the “cosmopolitan turn” (Germain 2011) of Montreal: there are no longer just ethnic neighborhoods of Italians, East European Jews, Greeks and Portuguese as in the beginning of the twentieth century but rather multiethnic neighborhoods since the diversification of immigration in the 1970s. The neighborhood is now gentrified, but an important Hassidic community still resides in Mile End and old shops still stand. The coexistence of gentrifiers with an ethnically and socio-economically diverse body of older-established residents has

<footnote n="3">³Parks Canada is a federal agency created in 1911 with a mandate to protect representative examples of Canada's natural and cultural heritage.</footnote>
site by The Historic Sites and Monuments Board of Canada in 1996 (Fulton and Vermette 1996).

## 9.3 Narrating an Idealized Cosmopolitanism as Heritage

History and also literary fiction are used by Park Canada<fnref n="3" /> to describe boulevard Saint-Laurent as a place that shows several waves of immigration. The commemorative plaques at both ends of the street (in the old port and Little Italy) describe the boulevard's heritage site status in the following terms:

> Along this strong sinewy backbone of Montréal, in a kaleidoscope of neighborhoods such as Chinatown, the Jewish and Portuguese quarters, and Little Italy, a vibrant, cosmopolitan heart for the city has been forged.

Literary fiction, both English-language and French-language, has contributed to the conception of the Main as a symbolic cosmopolitan place in the urban imagination of Montreal and as a national heritage. The boulevard holds an important place in the works of renowned authors like Mordecai Richler or Michel Tremblay as well as in more recent novels and plays. These narratives – fictions but also non-fictions – tend to convey the image of a small-scale neighborhood landscape with close social ties and a multiethnic history. Even though many immigrant communities left to settle elsewhere in the city, contemporary narratives plough back into old ones: it is this very period of waves of immigration which is passed on in the collective memory as one of tolerance, brotherhood and belonging. These narratives create a nos-talgic image of the whole street and of some surrounding neighborhoods.

One of the neighborhoods of the boulevard, Mile End, is often described as the personification of cosmopolitanism, a “plural and hybrid social reality” (Simon 1999, 23) or “the crystallization of an emerging montrealness” (Olazabal 2006, 8). For example, the official touristic presentation of Mile End says,

> Like any neighborhood with flavor, it's the cultural layers that have made Mile End what it is today. Living side by side is an engaging mix of communities: Hassidic Jewish, Greek, Italian, anglophone and others who have given it its special brand of energy and kick. Expect kosher stores and bakeries and little boys with traditional side curls zipping by on scooters. (Tourism Montreal, official site)

This sector of Mile End represents the “cosmopolitan turn” (Germain 2011) of Montreal: there are no longer just ethnic neighborhoods of Italians, East European Jews, Greeks and Portuguese as in the beginning of the twentieth century but rather multiethnic neighborhoods since the diversification of immigration in the 1970s. The neighborhood is now gentrified, but an important Hassidic community still resides in Mile End and old shops still stand. The coexistence of gentrifiers with an ethnically and socio-economically diverse body of older-established residents has

<footnote n="3">³Parks Canada is a federal agency created in 1911 with a mandate to protect representative examples of Canada's natural and cultural heritage.</footnote>
created a shared discourse and pride in the neighborhood's cosmopolitanism (Germain and Rose 2000). But the narrative's theme of multicultural harmony and close neighborly relations denies the near total disappearance of its minority communities (Greeks and Italians mostly). It also ignores the tensions due to the presence of several religious and immigrant communities (see Bouchard and Taylor 2008) that I've been able to observe in the neighborhood's current social segregation: mostly of class, but also of origin and of religion with the Hassidic community or tensions related to language. There is indeed a selective nostalgic image of the Mile End, described for the "sweetness of belonging." Alberto Vanolo (2017, 15-16) uses the metaphor of ghosts as "echoes of things that once were visible," reflections and reverberations of an absent past" to describe city branding strategies: "some undesired elements are transformed into ghosts, and some ghosts (such as old identities, old buildings, old stories, old stereotypes or memories) are evoked and transformed into visible presences such as images, stories, slogans, tourist sites, etc.". In the narrative of Montreal – and Saint Lawrence Boulevard – some traces of communities and places are turned into visible marks while some past stories are not shown or even erased. Elements of the past are repositioned in the present and used in city branding and place making. Beyond the political branding and heritage, the street also shows a commodified cosmopolitanism for tourist and economic purposes.

## 9.4 Branding Cosmopolitanism: Commercial Stakeholders in Ethnic and Touristic Neighborhoods

"Ethnic" and "multiethnic" neighborhoods along the boulevard clearly highlight the assets of cosmopolitanism through food, shops, associations or symbols such as colors, flags or decorations. Marks of the old immigrant presence are visible along the boulevard: immigrant groups and ethnic entrepreneurs have been building particular landscapes, "ethnoscapes" (Appadurai, 1990), from façades to shop and restaurant interiors. Public and private actors produce these neighborhoods through urban planning, marketing strategies and events (celebrations, festivals and urban tours). But how is cosmopolitanism "produced and sustained through different forms of urban governance, and in particular the production of distinct cosmopolitan quarters and sectors through policy and planning" (Binnie et al. 2006, 14)? And who is behind this construction of landscape?

On top of city officials (through public recognition and toponyms) and Park Canada (through the federal designation) who promote the boulevard as a cosmopolitan place, the other really important actors are commercial development associations (SDC), the equivalent of Business Improvement districts (BID) in the United States or Business Improvement areas (BIA) in the rest of Canada. This model of "self-imposed financing mechanisms implemented by businesses and property owners for local improvements, specifically the enhancement of public
created a shared discourse and pride in the neighborhood's cosmopolitanism (Germain and Rose 2000). But the narrative's theme of multicultural harmony and close neighborly relations denies the near total disappearance of its minority communities (Greeks and Italians mostly). It also ignores the tensions due to the presence of several religious and immigrant communities (see Bouchard and Taylor 2008) that I've been able to observe in the neighborhood's current social segregation: mostly of class, but also of origin and of religion with the Hassidic community or tensions related to language. There is indeed a selective nostalgic image of the Mile End, described for the "sweetness of belonging." Alberto Vanolo (2017, 15-16) uses the metaphor of ghosts as "echoes of things that once were visible," reflections and reverberations of an absent past" to describe city branding strategies: "some undesired elements are transformed into ghosts, and some ghosts (such as old identities, old buildings, old stories, old stereotypes or memories) are evoked and transformed into visible presences such as images, stories, slogans, tourist sites, etc.". In the narrative of Montreal – and Saint Lawrence Boulevard – some traces of communities and places are turned into visible marks while some past stories are not shown or even erased. Elements of the past are repositioned in the present and used in city branding and place making. Beyond the political branding and heritage, the street also shows a commodified cosmopolitanism for tourist and economic purposes.

## 9.4 Branding Cosmopolitanism: Commercial Stakeholders in Ethnic and Touristic Neighborhoods

"Ethnic" and "multiethnic" neighborhoods along the boulevard clearly highlight the assets of cosmopolitanism through food, shops, associations or symbols such as colors, flags or decorations. Marks of the old immigrant presence are visible along the boulevard: immigrant groups and ethnic entrepreneurs have been building particular landscapes, "ethnoscapes" (Appadurai, 1990), from façades to shop and restaurant interiors. Public and private actors produce these neighborhoods through urban planning, marketing strategies and events (celebrations, festivals and urban tours). But how is cosmopolitanism "produced and sustained through different forms of urban governance, and in particular the production of distinct cosmopolitan quarters and sectors through policy and planning" (Binnie et al. 2006, 14)? And who is behind this construction of landscape?

On top of city officials (through public recognition and toponyms) and Park Canada (through the federal designation) who promote the boulevard as a cosmopolitan place, the other really important actors are commercial development associations (SDC), the equivalent of Business Improvement districts (BID) in the United States or Business Improvement areas (BIA) in the rest of Canada. This model of "self-imposed financing mechanisms implemented by businesses and property owners for local improvements, specifically the enhancement of public
services” (Hoyt 2004, 367) are present in many states. In each case, shopkeepers (and landowners in BIA) decide to organize themselves in associations to develop and promote the street or the neighborhood.

From the south to the north of the boulevard, five different associations exist and organize several actions in order to promote the street and/or the neighborhood depending on their perimeter: Old Montreal, the historic district of the city, Chinatown, Quartier des Spectacles, Saint-Lawrence boulevard (SDBSL) and Little Italy (see Fig. 9.1). These branding initiatives (logos, slogans, advertising campaigns, etc.) promote a different narrative of the concerned space: a mono-ethnic one in Little Italy, a more diverse one in the central section.

### 9.4.1 Little Italy: Italianity as a Brand for the Boulevard and the Neighborhood

In the north of the boulevard, the commercial development association of Little Italy has oriented its branding toward a certain vision of Italy with arches, green-white-red flags, Italian connotations (Rome Antics, Café Italia, Corneli, Galleria della Sposa, etc.) for the names of shops, and decorations with the name of the neighborhood (see Fig. 9.2).<fnref n="4" /> The SDC has also appointed the Toronto advertising company OPEN to set up a new branding strategy for the neighborhood. A logo and the slogan “vivere Emozione” have been created to let Little Italy stand out from the other neighborhoods (see Fig. 9.2). The letter V is supposed to be the symbol gathering different textures that refers to the urban multilayered neighborhood and identifies the three commercial components of Little Italy: gastronomy, sport and culture. The new official guide describes Little Italy with all the Italian references and clichés:

<figure><img src="image_27.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 9.2 Little Italy with colors of the Italian flag, arch on the boulevard and banner with the new slogan “Vivere Emozione.” (ML Poulot, 2013, 2015)</figcaption></figure>

<footnote n="4">⁴A first informal Association for the promotion of the Little Italy was created in the 1970s, but the SDC has officially existed since 2009, bringing together 240 merchants.</footnote>
services” (Hoyt 2004, 367) are present in many states. In each case, shopkeepers (and landowners in BIA) decide to organize themselves in associations to develop and promote the street or the neighborhood.

From the south to the north of the boulevard, five different associations exist and organize several actions in order to promote the street and/or the neighborhood depending on their perimeter: Old Montreal, the historic district of the city, Chinatown, Quartier des Spectacles, Saint-Lawrence boulevard (SDBSL) and Little Italy (see Fig. 9.1). These branding initiatives (logos, slogans, advertising campaigns, etc.) promote a different narrative of the concerned space: a mono-ethnic one in Little Italy, a more diverse one in the central section.

### 9.4.1 Little Italy: Italianity as a Brand for the Boulevard and the Neighborhood

In the north of the boulevard, the commercial development association of Little Italy has oriented its branding toward a certain vision of Italy with arches, green-white-red flags, Italian connotations (Rome Antics, Café Italia, Corneli, Galleria della Sposa, etc.) for the names of shops, and decorations with the name of the neighborhood (see Fig. 9.2).<fnref n="4" /> The SDC has also appointed the Toronto advertising company OPEN to set up a new branding strategy for the neighborhood. A logo and the slogan “vivere Emozione” have been created to let Little Italy stand out from the other neighborhoods (see Fig. 9.2). The letter V is supposed to be the symbol gathering different textures that refers to the urban multilayered neighborhood and identifies the three commercial components of Little Italy: gastronomy, sport and culture. The new official guide describes Little Italy with all the Italian references and clichés:

<figure><img src="image_27.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 9.2 Little Italy with colors of the Italian flag, arch on the boulevard and banner with the new slogan “Vivere Emozione.” (ML Poulot, 2013, 2015)</figcaption></figure>

<footnote n="4">⁴A first informal Association for the promotion of the Little Italy was created in the 1970s, but the SDC has officially existed since 2009, bringing together 240 merchants.</footnote>
Imagine the soft sound of bocce being played on the sand field, the lovers enjoying an outdoor movie night under a pergola and the children eating a pizza or an ice cream on the grass. This is the Dante Park.

Imagine enjoying the creamy taste of an espresso while participating in a debate on Italian soccer during Little Italy's street festivities. This is Vivere Emozione.

This new identity is the synthesis of a Little Italy that “does not imagine, but lives through the mixture of its multi-generational urban habitat” (Montréal Little Italy 2016).

This new identity is the synthesis of a Little Italy that “does not imagine, but lives through the mixture of its multi-generational urban habitat” (Montréal Little Italy 2016). The director of the OPEN Agency explains that “neighborhoods of large cities now enjoy a similar reputation to the major cities that house them. By force of circumstances, the competition and the importance of outstanding become a necessity” (Infopresse 2014).

Lastly, the branding is now specialized and professionalized. A few years ago, it was the association itself who did the branding, asking only for an advertising agency to help with the design of the logo. The marketing strategy is now externalized, performed by marketing and advertising professionals. The same phenomenon can be seen in several SDC in Montreal.

This is then a strategy that pertains to multiculturalism with one single identity put forward. Just as Little Italy's “corporate multiculturalism” “necessarily limits intercultural communication and understanding, and tries to protect community boundaries and traditional identities” (Bianchini 2004, 4), so too for Chinatown. On the contrary, in the central section of the street, different communities and origins are represented and highlighted.

## 9.4.2 The Central Section of the Boulevard: Toward a More Inclusive and Cosmopolitan Image

In the central section of the boulevard, between Sherbrooke Street and Laurier Street, the SDC of the boulevard (SDBSL) is trying to embrace several waves of immigration (from Portugal, Spain, Italy, Greece, East European Jews).<fnref n="5" /> Different marks and initiatives are visible throughout the street.

A group of Portuguese residents and an elected representative of the community have, for example, imagined a special project of marking. They did not put entrance doors, like in Little Italy or Chinatown, but instead benches on both sides of the sidewalks. These “benches of stone and words” are made of *azulejos* (Portuguese mosaic) and urban dwellers can read inscribed quotes from Portuguese novelists

<footnote n="5">⁵The association of merchants was created in 1978 as “the international village Boulevard Saint-Laurent.” Its perimeter has expanded and the association was officially transformed into a SDC in 2000. It now counts more than 700 businesses, organisms and companies.</footnote>
Imagine the soft sound of bocce being played on the sand field, the lovers enjoying an outdoor movie night under a pergola and the children eating a pizza or an ice cream on the grass. This is the Dante Park.

Imagine enjoying the creamy taste of an espresso while participating in a debate on Italian soccer during Little Italy's street festivities. This is Vivere Emozione.

This new identity is the synthesis of a Little Italy that “does not imagine, but lives through the mixture of its multi-generational urban habitat” (Montréal Little Italy 2016).

This new identity is the synthesis of a Little Italy that “does not imagine, but lives through the mixture of its multi-generational urban habitat” (Montréal Little Italy 2016). The director of the OPEN Agency explains that “neighborhoods of large cities now enjoy a similar reputation to the major cities that house them. By force of circumstances, the competition and the importance of outstanding become a necessity” (Infopresse 2014).

Lastly, the branding is now specialized and professionalized. A few years ago, it was the association itself who did the branding, asking only for an advertising agency to help with the design of the logo. The marketing strategy is now externalized, performed by marketing and advertising professionals. The same phenomenon can be seen in several SDC in Montreal.

This is then a strategy that pertains to multiculturalism with one single identity put forward. Just as Little Italy's “corporate multiculturalism” “necessarily limits intercultural communication and understanding, and tries to protect community boundaries and traditional identities” (Bianchini 2004, 4), so too for Chinatown. On the contrary, in the central section of the street, different communities and origins are represented and highlighted.

## 9.4.2 The Central Section of the Boulevard: Toward a More Inclusive and Cosmopolitan Image

In the central section of the boulevard, between Sherbrooke Street and Laurier Street, the SDC of the boulevard (SDBSL) is trying to embrace several waves of immigration (from Portugal, Spain, Italy, Greece, East European Jews).<fnref n="5" /> Different marks and initiatives are visible throughout the street.

A group of Portuguese residents and an elected representative of the community have, for example, imagined a special project of marking. They did not put entrance doors, like in Little Italy or Chinatown, but instead benches on both sides of the sidewalks. These “benches of stone and words” are made of *azulejos* (Portuguese mosaic) and urban dwellers can read inscribed quotes from Portuguese novelists

<footnote n="5">⁵The association of merchants was created in 1978 as “the international village Boulevard Saint-Laurent.” Its perimeter has expanded and the association was officially transformed into a SDC in 2000. It now counts more than 700 businesses, organisms and companies.</footnote>
<figure><img src="image_28.png" /><figcaption>**Fig. 9.3** The “benches of stone and words” and the shop “La Vieille Europe” on Saint-Laurent Boulevard (ML Poulot, 2012, 2013)</figcaption></figure>

and writers (see Fig. 9.3). They are supposed to represent the Portuguese commu-
nity, a bridge between Anglophone and Francophone and other communities. One
of the members of the Portuguese community, who is also involved in the SDBSL,
explains that they want to do something different than the Business Improvement
Area in Toronto called Little Portugal that has existed since 2007:

It's been a while since we are working for the official creation of the Portuguese neighbor-
hood. Because nowadays, everybody knows where it is. In Toronto, they created "The little
Portugal." I respect that, that's what people wanted on Dundas street, with the Portuguese
flag. But I find it very ghetto-like. And the Portuguese community of Montreal has never
been a ghetto-community, never! (Interview, August 2013)

Other SDBSL initiatives exist, such as *Dia Das Montra*, which picks up a tradition
from the Azores and extends it to every storefront (shop owners decorate their store
windows and the best one receives a prize). The SDBSL website also underlines the
importance of other communities by highlighting stores like La Vieille Europe or
L’española (an old Spanish bookstore that sells lots of other Spanish and Latino
goods, objects, food or drinks) [see Fig. 9.3]. It also indicates different route sugges-
tions in order to put forward the identity and the history of the Main, linked to the
old Jewish presence along the street.<fnref n="6" />

Even if the SDBSL still promotes the cosmopolitan history of the boulevard, its
recent actions have been about building a more artistic and creative identity less
linked to the historic waves of immigration.<fnref n="7" /> The new street art festival MURAL
created in 2013, for example, tends to put Montreal on national and international
map of street art by creating a successful event whose artworks do not necessarily
address the cosmopolitan past of the street.

<footnote n="6">⁶These initiatives are linked to the Museum of Jewish Montreal (http://imjm.ca/) “that collects maps, and shares the history and experiences of the Montreal Jewish community online and through walking tours, exhibits, and other public programming.”</footnote>

<footnote n="7">⁷See this project to commemorate three businesses that have been created by the Jewish immigrants: http://boulevardsaintlaurent.com/en/nouvelle/le-main-personnage/</footnote>
<figure><img src="image_28.png" /><figcaption>**Fig. 9.3** The “benches of stone and words” and the shop “La Vieille Europe” on Saint-Laurent Boulevard (ML Poulot, 2012, 2013)</figcaption></figure>

and writers (see Fig. 9.3). They are supposed to represent the Portuguese community, a bridge between Anglophone and Francophone and other communities. One of the members of the Portuguese community, who is also involved in the SDBSL, explains that they want to do something different than the Business Improvement Area in Toronto called Little Portugal that has existed since 2007:

> It's been a while since we are working for the official creation of the Portuguese neighborhood. Because nowadays, everybody knows where it is. In Toronto, they created "The little Portugal." I respect that, that's what people wanted on Dundas street, with the Portuguese flag. But I find it very ghetto-like. And the Portuguese community of Montreal has never been a ghetto-community, never! (Interview, August 2013)

Other SDBSL initiatives exist, such as *Dia Das Montra*, which picks up a tradition from the Azores and extends it to every storefront (shop owners decorate their store windows and the best one receives a prize). The SDBSL website also underlines the importance of other communities by highlighting stores like La Vieille Europe or L'española (an old Spanish bookstore that sells lots of other Spanish and Latino goods, objects, food or drinks) [see Fig. 9.3]. It also indicates different route suggestions in order to put forward the identity and the history of the Main, linked to the old Jewish presence along the street.<fnref n="6" />

Even if the SDBSL still promotes the cosmopolitan history of the boulevard, its recent actions have been about building a more artistic and creative identity less linked to the historic waves of immigration.<fnref n="7" /> The new street art festival MURAL created in 2013, for example, tends to put Montreal on national and international map of street art by creating a successful event whose artworks do not necessarily address the cosmopolitan past of the street.

<footnote n="6">⁶These initiatives are linked to the Museum of Jewish Montreal (http://imjm.ca/) "that collects maps, and shares the history and experiences of the Montreal Jewish community online and through walking tours, exhibits, and other public programming."</footnote>

<footnote n="7">⁷See this project to commemorate three businesses that have been created by the Jewish immigrants: http://boulevardsaintlaurent.com/en/nouvelle/le-main-personnage/</footnote>
## 9.5 Representations of the Boulevard by the Inhabitants: Authenticity or Artifice?

What public is targeted by these branding strategies and what are their representations? These branding strategies are, of course, destined for the different communities who seek public recognition. But they are also destined for different users, like tourists, dwellers, new inhabitants, investors, new shopkeepers, etc. These actions are meant to create a dynamic neighborhood, to boost economic renewal, to promote shops and businesses, and, finally, to attract tourists, both domestic and international. Visits and walking tours are organized by several associations in the different districts of the boulevard for both Montreal residents and international tourists to show off urban cosmopolitanism, the diverse food and culture available and to commemorate the heritage of the street. These visits also bring in students from all over the province of Quebec in order to celebrate traces of immigration and the different religions present in Montreal. These visits thus contain an educational purpose in challenging received ideas and prejudices, even if in these branded places, “the imagery projected to visitors may reconfirm rather than challenge stereotypes” (Shaw et al. 2004).

As for city dwellers, both reactions exist: some denounce the commodification of space, whereas others see these neighborhoods as authentic. This is particularly true for the central section of the boulevard, which most inhabitants see as an authentic space (Zukin 2010). These dwellers link authenticity to cosmopolitanism: the fact that several languages can be heard on the street, that businesses are owned by immigrants or descendants of immigrants, that the goods sold are specific to one country or one region other than Quebec or Canada. As one of the shopkeepers says, “the boulevard has always had its own identity, which is still the same today: a historic street, a nonconformist one and an authentic one” (interview, May 2013). But in my interviews with city-dwellers and users, there is a paradoxical way of seeing those spaces: authenticity is sought but some inhabitants regret that Chinatown or Little Italy are artificial neighborhoods created for tourists, resuming the traditional debate between “superficial” and “authentic” cosmopolitanism (Molz 2011). One resident who had lived in the Portuguese neighborhood in the 1980s says that “it’s a shame to line up some districts toward tourism, it’s artificial” (interview, December 2011). Another dweller even talks about fake recreation:

> In fact, it's a bit propaganda for the boulevard: they try to make a myth of it. I used to stroll on the boulevard with my children, to show them the turmoil of the street. It wasn't a rich street, it was a street of ethnic and mom and pop shops that served a local population. But now, it's not anymore [...] It's a memory. [...] In fact, we are in a generalised marketing and communication strategy nowadays. You don't get the experience they're selling, you don't get what the federal designation [the national heritage site] is telling. (Interview, May 2013)

Residents from immigrant backgrounds and their descendants no longer live on the street or are a minority if they do. The old shops held by those immigrants are supposed to embody cosmopolitanism by representing the remains of the cosmopolitan past of the street. The commercial development associations are therefore the
## 9.5 Representations of the Boulevard by the Inhabitants: Authenticity or Artifice?

What public is targeted by these branding strategies and what are their representations? These branding strategies are, of course, destined for the different communities who seek public recognition. But they are also destined for different users, like tourists, dwellers, new inhabitants, investors, new shopkeepers, etc. These actions are meant to create a dynamic neighborhood, to boost economic renewal, to promote shops and businesses, and, finally, to attract tourists, both domestic and international. Visits and walking tours are organized by several associations in the different districts of the boulevard for both Montreal residents and international tourists to show off urban cosmopolitanism, the diverse food and culture available and to commemorate the heritage of the street. These visits also bring in students from all over the province of Quebec in order to celebrate traces of immigration and the different religions present in Montreal. These visits thus contain an educational purpose in challenging received ideas and prejudices, even if in these branded places, "the imagery projected to visitors may reconfirm rather than challenge stereotypes" (Shaw et al. 2004).

As for city dwellers, both reactions exist: some denounce the commodification of space, whereas others see these neighborhoods as authentic. This is particularly true for the central section of the boulevard, which most inhabitants see as an authentic space (Zukin 2010). These dwellers link authenticity to cosmopolitanism: the fact that several languages can be heard on the street, that businesses are owned by immigrants or descendants of immigrants, that the goods sold are specific to one country or one region other than Quebec or Canada. As one of the shopkeepers says, "the boulevard has always had its own identity, which is still the same today: a historic street, a nonconformist one and an authentic one" (interview, May 2013). But in my interviews with city-dwellers and users, there is a paradoxical way of seeing those spaces: authenticity is sought but some inhabitants regret that Chinatown or Little Italy are artificial neighborhoods created for tourists, resuming the traditional debate between "superficial" and "authentic" cosmopolitanism (Molz 2011). One resident who had lived in the Portuguese neighborhood in the 1980s says that "it's a shame to line up some districts toward tourism, it's artificial" (interview, December 2011). Another dweller even talks about fake recreation:

> In fact, it's a bit propaganda for the boulevard: they try to make a myth of it. I used to stroll on the boulevard with my children, to show them the turmoil of the street. It wasn't a rich street, it was a street of ethnic and mom and pop shops that served a local population. But now, it's not anymore [...] It's a memory. [...] In fact, we are in a generalised marketing and communication strategy nowadays. You don't get the experience they're selling, you don't get what the federal designation [the national heritage site] is telling. (Interview, May 2013)

Residents from immigrant backgrounds and their descendants no longer live on the street or are a minority if they do. The old shops held by those immigrants are supposed to embody cosmopolitanism by representing the remains of the cosmopolitan past of the street. The commercial development associations are therefore the
guardians of this cosmopolitan image and carry on its representation and recreate it, as one of the residents explains:

> The people who have nostalgia for the most part didn't live it [the boulevard]. Yeah, sure we have nostalgia, but we didn't live here, it's romanticized. [...] And the young people who are trying to recreate something, they are trying to reinvent something. (Interview, May 2013)

But cosmopolitanism put forward on the boulevard is described by some inhabitants as a merchandise built by the branding strategies of the municipality and the commercial development associations in order to attract investors and new dwellers.

## 9.6 Conclusion

In conclusion, it is clear that branding “is both a generalised label to describe emergent social and economic spatial formations and a narrative trope that makes one part of the city analytically visible” (Keith 2005, 117). Branding selects neighborhoods and places that are potentially interesting in attracting people and capital but at the expense of other places and neighborhoods which may be cosmopolitan but are not branded as such. The narratives around Saint Lawrence Boulevard return back to old ones; several buildings have changed their earlier function and shops have adapted their commercial offer to new residents. This consumerism of difference tends to a commodification of otherness and is often reduced to the “easy faces of cosmopolitanism.” These branding initiatives are received in different ways by inhabitants; some only see them as “consumerist cosmopolitanism” (Calhoun 2002) while others link them to the daily experiences of the hustle and bustle of cultural communities. The boulevard thus constitutes a useful space to understanding narratives on this historic cosmopolitanism, the actions of different public and private stakeholders and its consequences on space and representational orders for dwellers. Nowadays, cosmopolitanism is more and more covered up by a creative and cultural identity, notably in Mile End and the central section of the boulevard, while Chinatown and Little Italy are sticking to their single ethnic branding in a tourist strategy similar to one found in other North American cities such as New York, Toronto or Boston. Processes of gentrification, new art galleries, businesses, festivals and activities are “branding neighborhoods in terms of distinctive cultural identities” (Zukin 2010, 3) with a hint of cosmopolitanism in order to shape an authentic identity responsive to the demands of social preservationists (Brown-Saracino 2009) as proximity and as a community experience.
guardians of this cosmopolitan image and carry on its representation and recreate it, as one of the residents explains:

> The people who have nostalgia for the most part didn't live it [the boulevard]. Yeah, sure we have nostalgia, but we didn't live here, it's romanticized. [...] And the young people who are trying to recreate something, they are trying to reinvent something. (Interview, May 2013)

But cosmopolitanism put forward on the boulevard is described by some inhabitants as a merchandise built by the branding strategies of the municipality and the commercial development associations in order to attract investors and new dwellers.

## 9.6 Conclusion

In conclusion, it is clear that branding “is both a generalised label to describe emergent social and economic spatial formations and a narrative trope that makes one part of the city analytically visible” (Keith 2005, 117). Branding selects neighborhoods and places that are potentially interesting in attracting people and capital but at the expense of other places and neighborhoods which may be cosmopolitan but are not branded as such. The narratives around Saint Lawrence Boulevard return back to old ones; several buildings have changed their earlier function and shops have adapted their commercial offer to new residents. This consumerism of difference tends to a commodification of otherness and is often reduced to the “easy faces of cosmopolitanism.” These branding initiatives are received in different ways by inhabitants; some only see them as “consumerist cosmopolitanism” (Calhoun 2002) while others link them to the daily experiences of the hustle and bustle of cultural communities. The boulevard thus constitutes a useful space to understanding narratives on this historic cosmopolitanism, the actions of different public and private stakeholders and its consequences on space and representational orders for dwellers. Nowadays, cosmopolitanism is more and more covered up by a creative and cultural identity, notably in Mile End and the central section of the boulevard, while Chinatown and Little Italy are sticking to their single ethnic branding in a tourist strategy similar to one found in other North American cities such as New York, Toronto or Boston. Processes of gentrification, new art galleries, businesses, festivals and activities are “branding neighborhoods in terms of distinctive cultural identities” (Zukin 2010, 3) with a hint of cosmopolitanism in order to shape an authentic identity responsive to the demands of social preservationists (Brown-Saracino 2009) as proximity and as a community experience.
References

Andersson, I. (2015). Geographies of place branding: Researching through small and medium-sized cities. *Meddelande fran Kulturgeografiska institutionen*, 148, Stockholm University.

Appadurai, A. (1990). Disjuncture and difference in the global cultural economy. *Theory, Culture & Society*, 7, 295–310.

Bianchini, F. (2004, February 7–10). *A crisis in urban creativity? Reflections on the cultural impacts of globalisation, and on the potential of urban cultural policies*. Paper presented at the international symposium The Age of the city: The Challenges for Creatives Cities, Osaka.

Bilefsky, D. (2017, December 5). Quebec Tries to Say Au Revoir to ‘Hi,’ and Hello to ‘Bonjour’. *New York Times*. At https://www.nytimes.com/2017/12/05/world/canada/bonjour-hi-quebec.html

Binnie, J., Holloway, J., Millington, S., & Young, C. (2006). *Cosmopolitan Urbanism*. London: Routledge.

Bouchard, G., & Taylor, C. (2008). *Building the future: A time for reconciliation. Report of the Commission de consultation sur les pratiques d'accommodement reliées aux différences culturelles*. Québec: Gouvernement du Québec. At https://www.mce.gouv.qc.ca/publications/CCPARDC/rapport-final-integral-en.pdf

Brown-Saracino, J. (2009). *A neighborhood that never changes: Gentrification, social preservation, and the search for authenticity*. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Calhoun, C. (2002). The class consciousness of frequent travellers: Towards a critique of actually existing cosmopolitanism. In S. Vertovec & R. Cohen (Eds.), *Conceiving cosmopolitanism: Theory, context and practice* (pp. 86–109). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Florida, R. (2002). *The rise of the creative class: And how It's transforming work, leisure, community and everyday life*. New York: Basic Books.

Fulton, G., & Vermette, L. (1996). *Rapport de la Commission des lieux et monuments historiques du Canada, L'arrondissement historique du Boulevard Saint-Laurent (La Main)*. Direction des services historiques, Parcs Canada.

Germain, A. (2011). *The fragmented or cosmopolitan Metropolis? A neighbourhood story of immigration in Montréal*. Publication CMQ-IM 44, Metropolis.

Germain, A., & Rose, D. (2000). *Montréal: The quest for a Metropolis*. Chichester: Wiley.

Gubbay, A. (1989). *A street called the main – The story of Montreal's Boulevard Saint Laurent*. Montreal: Meridian Press.

Hall, S. (2012). *City, street and citizen: The measure of the ordinary*. London: Routledge.

Hemelryk, D. S., Kofman, E., & Kevin, C. (Eds.). (2009). *Branding cities: Cosmopolitanism, parochialism, and social change*. New York: Routledge.

Hollinger, D. A. (1995). *Postethnic America: Beyond multiculturalism*. New York: Basic Books.

Hoyt, L. (2004). Collecting private funds for safer public spaces: An empirical examination of the business improvement district concept. *Environment and Planning B: Planning and Design*, 31(3), 367–380. https://doi.org/10.1068/b29124

Infopresse: la Référence des professionnels des communications et du design. (2014, May 14). La Petite Italie se refait une beauté. At http://www.infopresse.com/article/2014/5/14/la-petite-italie-se-dote-d-une-nouvelle-image-de-marque

Kavaratzis, M., & Ashworth, G. J. (2005). City branding: An effective assertion of identity or a transitory marketing trick? *Tijdschrift voor Economische en Sociale Geografie*, 96(5), 506–514.

Keith, M. (2005). *After the cosmopolitan? Multicultural cities and the future of racism*. New York: Routledge.

Kymlicka, W. (1998). *Finding our way: Rethinking ethnocultural relations in Canada*. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Létourneau, J. (2003). Reposer la question du Québec. *Options politiques*, 24(10), 44–49.

MacLennan, H. (1945). *Two solitudes*. Toronto: Collins.

Molz, J. G. (2011). Cosmopolitanism and consumption. In M. Rovisco & M. Nowicka (Eds.), *The Ashgate research companion to cosmopolitanism* (pp. 33–52). London: Routledge.
References

Andersson, I. (2015). Geographies of place branding: Researching through small and medium-sized cities. *Meddelande fran Kulturgeografiska institutionen*, 148, Stockholm University.

Appadurai, A. (1990). Disjuncture and difference in the global cultural economy. *Theory, Culture & Society*, 7, 295–310.

Bianchini, F. (2004, February 7–10). *A crisis in urban creativity? Reflections on the cultural impacts of globalisation, and on the potential of urban cultural policies*. Paper presented at the international symposium The Age of the city: The Challenges for Creatives Cities, Osaka.

Bilefsky, D. (2017, December 5). Quebec Tries to Say Au Revoir to ‘Hi,’ and Hello to ‘Bonjour’. *New York Times*. At https://www.nytimes.com/2017/12/05/world/canada/bonjour-hi-quebec.html

Binnie, J., Holloway, J., Millington, S., & Young, C. (2006). *Cosmopolitan Urbanism*. London: Routledge.

Bouchard, G., & Taylor, C. (2008). *Building the future: A time for reconciliation. Report of the Commission de consultation sur les pratiques d'accommodement reliées aux différences culturelles*. Québec: Gouvernement du Québec. At https://www.mce.gouv.qc.ca/publications/CCPARDC/rapport-final-integral-en.pdf

Brown-Saracino, J. (2009). *A neighborhood that never changes: Gentrification, social preservation, and the search for authenticity*. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Calhoun, C. (2002). The class consciousness of frequent travellers: Towards a critique of actually existing cosmopolitanism. In S. Vertovec & R. Cohen (Eds.), *Conceiving cosmopolitanism: Theory, context and practice* (pp. 86–109). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Florida, R. (2002). *The rise of the creative class: And how It's transforming work, leisure, community and everyday life*. New York: Basic Books.

Fulton, G., & Vermette, L. (1996). *Rapport de la Commission des lieux et monuments historiques du Canada, L'arrondissement historique du Boulevard Saint-Laurent (La Main)*. Direction des services historiques, Parcs Canada.

Germain, A. (2011). *The fragmented or cosmopolitan Metropolis? A neighbourhood story of immigration in Montréal*. Publication CMQ-IM 44, Metropolis.

Germain, A., & Rose, D. (2000). *Montréal: The quest for a Metropolis*. Chichester: Wiley.

Gubbay, A. (1989). *A street called the main – The story of Montreal's Boulevard Saint Laurent*. Montreal: Meridian Press.

Hall, S. (2012). *City, street and citizen: The measure of the ordinary*. London: Routledge.

Hemelryk, D. S., Kofman, E., & Kevin, C. (Eds.). (2009). *Branding cities: Cosmopolitanism, parochialism, and social change*. New York: Routledge.

Hollinger, D. A. (1995). *Postethnic America: Beyond multiculturalism*. New York: Basic Books.

Hoyt, L. (2004). Collecting private funds for safer public spaces: An empirical examination of the business improvement district concept. *Environment and Planning B: Planning and Design*, 31(3), 367–380. https://doi.org/10.1068/b29124

Infopresse: la Référence des professionnels des communications et du design. (2014, May 14). La Petite Italie se refait une beauté. At http://www.infopresse.com/article/2014/5/14/la-petite-italie-se-dote-d-une-nouvelle-image-de-marque

Kavaratzis, M., & Ashworth, G. J. (2005). City branding: An effective assertion of identity or a transitory marketing trick? *Tijdschrift voor Economische en Sociale Geografie*, 96(5), 506–514.

Keith, M. (2005). *After the cosmopolitan? Multicultural cities and the future of racism*. New York: Routledge.

Kymlicka, W. (1998). *Finding our way: Rethinking ethnocultural relations in Canada*. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Létourneau, J. (2003). Reposer la question du Québec. *Options politiques*, 24(10), 44–49.

MacLennan, H. (1945). *Two solitudes*. Toronto: Collins.

Molz, J. G. (2011). Cosmopolitanism and consumption. In M. Rovisco & M. Nowicka (Eds.), *The Ashgate research companion to cosmopolitanism* (pp. 33–52). London: Routledge.
Montréal Little Italy. (2016). *Official guide*.

Müller, F. A. (2011). Urban Alchemy: Performing urban cosmopolitanism in London and Amsterdam. *Urban Studies, 48*(16), 3415–3431.

Olazabal, I. (2006). Le Mile-End comme synthèse d'une montréalité en devenir. *Les Cahiers du Gres, 6*(2), 7–16. https://doi.org/10.7202/014444ar

Plage, S. I. W., Woodward, I., & Skrbis, Z. (2017). Cosmopolitan encounters: Reflexive engagements and the ethics of sharing. *Ethnic and Racial Studies, 40*(1), 4–23.

Shaw, S., Bagwell, S., & Karmowska, J. (2004). Ethnoscapes as spectacle: Reimaging multicultural districts as new destinations for leisure and tourism consumption. *Urban Studies, 41*(10), 1983–2000.

Simon, S. (1999). *Hybridité culturelle*. Montréal: l'île de la tortue.

Söderström, O. (2006). Studying cosmopolitan landscapes. *Progress in Human Geography, 30*(5), 553–558.

Tourism Montreal. Official site. At http://tmuatweb.tourisme-montreal.org/Press/Press-kit/Neighbourhoods/mile-end-montreal

Vanolo, A. (2017). *City branding: The ghostly politics of representation in globalising cities*. London: Routledge.

Ville de Montréal. (2017). *Montréal, métropole culturelle, At a glance 2016*. At http://ville.montreal.qc.ca/pls/portal/docs/PAGE/PA0717_FR/MEDIA/DOCUMENTS/COUP_DOEIL_2016_EN.PDF

Zach, E.. (2017, April 13). At 375 Montreal's cosmopolitan charm still seduces travelers. *Washington Post*. At https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/travel/at-375-montreals-cosmopolitan-charm-still-seduces-travelers/2017/04/13/15d0e178-155d-11e7-833c-503e1f6394c9_story.html?utm_term=.7e3b3658597a

Zukin, S. (2010). *Naked city: The death and life of authentic urban places*. New York: Oxford University Press.

**Open Access** This chapter is licensed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits use, sharing, adaptation, distribution and reproduction in any medium or format, as long as you give appropriate credit to the original author(s) and the source, provide a link to the Creative Commons license and indicate if changes were made.

The images or other third party material in this chapter are included in the chapter's Creative Commons license, unless indicated otherwise in a credit line to the material. If material is not included in the chapter's Creative Commons license and your intended use is not permitted by statutory regulation or exceeds the permitted use, you will need to obtain permission directly from the copyright holder.

<figure><img src="image_29.png" /></figure>
Montréal Little Italy. (2016). *Official guide*.

Müller, F. A. (2011). Urban Alchemy: Performing urban cosmopolitanism in London and Amsterdam. *Urban Studies, 48*(16), 3415–3431.

Olazabal, I. (2006). Le Mile-End comme synthèse d'une montréalité en devenir. *Les Cahiers du Gres, 6*(2), 7–16. https://doi.org/10.7202/014444ar

Plage, S. I. W., Woodward, I., & Skrbis, Z. (2017). Cosmopolitan encounters: Reflexive engagements and the ethics of sharing. *Ethnic and Racial Studies, 40*(1), 4–23.

Shaw, S., Bagwell, S., & Karmowska, J. (2004). Ethnoscapes as spectacle: Reimaging multicultural districts as new destinations for leisure and tourism consumption. *Urban Studies, 41*(10), 1983–2000.

Simon, S. (1999). *Hybridité culturelle*. Montréal: l'île de la tortue.

Söderström, O. (2006). Studying cosmopolitan landscapes. *Progress in Human Geography, 30*(5), 553–558.

Tourism Montreal. Official site. At http://tmuatweb.tourisme-montreal.org/Press/Press-kit/Neighbourhoods/mile-end-montreal

Vanolo, A. (2017). *City branding: The ghostly politics of representation in globalising cities*. London: Routledge.

Ville de Montréal. (2017). *Montréal, métropole culturelle, At a glance 2016*. At http://ville.montreal.qc.ca/pls/portal/docs/PAGE/PA0717_FR/MEDIA/DOCUMENTS/COUP_DOEIL_2016_EN.PDF

Zach, E.. (2017, April 13). At 375 Montreal's cosmopolitan charm still seduces travelers. *Washington Post*. At https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/travel/at-375-montreals-cosmopolitan-charm-still-seduces-travelers/2017/04/13/15d0e178-155d-11e7-833c-503e1f6394c9_story.html?utm_term=.7e3b3658597a

Zukin, S. (2010). *Naked city: The death and life of authentic urban places*. New York: Oxford University Press.

**Open Access** This chapter is licensed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits use, sharing, adaptation, distribution and reproduction in any medium or format, as long as you give appropriate credit to the original author(s) and the source, provide a link to the Creative Commons license and indicate if changes were made.

The images or other third party material in this chapter are included in the chapter's Creative Commons license, unless indicated otherwise in a credit line to the material. If material is not included in the chapter's Creative Commons license and your intended use is not permitted by statutory regulation or exceeds the permitted use, you will need to obtain permission directly from the copyright holder.

<figure><img src="image_29.png" /></figure>
Part III

Migrant Cosmopolitanism: Fragile
Belongings and Contested Citizenship
Part III

Migrant Cosmopolitanism: Fragile
Belongings and Contested Citizenship
<figure><img src="image_30.png" /></figure>

Chapter 10
# Sweeping the Streets, Cleaning Morals: Chinese Sex Workers in Paris Claiming Their Belonging to the Cosmopolitan City

Hélène Le Bail and Marylène Lieber

**10.1 Introduction**

Since 2016 hundreds of Chinese migrants selling sexual services in Paris have been the target of systematic control operations by the police, whose clear objective is to “sweep” prostitution out of migrant neighborhoods in Paris’s 13th and 19th arrondissements. In reaction to these measures, a group of Chinese sex workers organized the collective “The Steel Roses” [*Les Roses d’Acier*] and petitioned the local government to focus on preventing violence against sex workers rather than fighting sex workers. The Steel Roses is an attempt to embody political agency by demanding the local government for sex workers to be included as part of “local diversity” and to be considered legitimate users of the city. One of the collective’s key initiatives was to sweep the streets in order to engage in dialogue with neighbors. As the collective put it in a public speech: “By sweeping the ground here, we take our responsibility. We live here. We laugh here, we cry here, we work here. We want to show that we are part of this neighborhood.” In the context of local gentrification, where diversity is presented as an important characteristic of multicultural neighborhoods, this mobilization by migrant sex workers underlines the ongoing controversy around the definition of “diversity” as well as the controversy over who can legitimately claim to be part of the urban symbolic order.

H. Le Bail (✉)
CNRS CERI, Sciences Po, IC Migrations, Paris, France
e-mail: helene.lebail@sciencespo.fr

M. Lieber
Institute for gender studies, Department of Sociology, University of Geneva,
Geneva, Switzerland
<figure><img src="image_30.png" /></figure>

## 10.1 Introduction

Since 2016 hundreds of Chinese migrants selling sexual services in Paris have been the target of systematic control operations by the police, whose clear objective is to “sweep” prostitution out of migrant neighborhoods in Paris’s 13th and 19th arrondissements. In reaction to these measures, a group of Chinese sex workers organized the collective “The Steel Roses” [*Les Roses d’Acier*] and petitioned the local government to focus on preventing violence against sex workers rather than fighting sex workers. The Steel Roses is an attempt to embody political agency by demanding the local government for sex workers to be included as part of “local diversity” and to be considered legitimate users of the city. One of the collective’s key initiatives was to sweep the streets in order to engage in dialogue with neighbors. As the collective put it in a public speech: “By sweeping the ground here, we take our responsibility. We live here. We laugh here, we cry here, we work here. We want to show that we are part of this neighborhood.” In the context of local gentrification, where diversity is presented as an important characteristic of multicultural neighborhoods, this mobilization by migrant sex workers underlines the ongoing controversy around the definition of “diversity” as well as the controversy over who can legitimately claim to be part of the urban symbolic order.

H. Le Bail (✉)

CNRS CERI, Sciences Po, IC Migrations, Paris, France
e-mail: helene.lebail@sciencespo.fr

M. Lieber

Institute for gender studies, Department of Sociology, University of Geneva,
Geneva, Switzerland
“Diversity” is a key word in the local political arena of contemporary France. It is used to promote a new image for districts and cities characterized by the presence of many migrants and their descendants. Discourses on urban diversity can be framed within academic debates on the “cosmopolitan city,” in which cosmopolitanism is not understood as an individual way of life or philosophy (i.e., being a global citizen) but as an (collective) attitude, a form of openness to differences and diversity (Binnie et al. 2006), a tendency to value and promote diversity. Taking the case of Manchester city center, Young et al. (2006) describe how urban regeneration policies (often linked to gentrification processes) are based on cosmopolitan discourses, which in turn produce definitions of what is acceptable and not acceptable in terms of difference. They underline how narratives contribute to the framing of acceptable diversity: “The questions of what is ‘acceptable’ difference, who decides this and what impacts this has on diversity in cities highlight the inherently political nature of so-called cosmopolitan strategies” (Young et al. 2006, 1689). The controversy launched by the Chinese sex workers in some districts of Paris is another case study of how political power relations contribute to the definition of diversity and who belongs to a city defined in terms of cosmopolitanism.

Based on interviews with different actors (Chinese migrant women, elected representatives, NGOs and other supporters), the analysis of local debates (observation of local committees, minutes of city council meetings), and data on violence suffered by Chinese sex workers in Paris, this article questions the contingent place of migrant sex workers in official cosmopolitan narratives and documents their quest for recognition and belonging. A paradoxical definition of gender violence contributes to deny Chinese sex workers the right to be political agents and to be considered legitimate users of the city. We discuss the (hardly visible) contribution of migrant women in the discourse of cosmopolitan policies through the *contested definitions of diversity*, on the one hand, and of *gender violence, safety and autonomy*, on the other hand. In the context of “soft” gentrification, where various policies contribute to the eviction of “undesirable” populations or the suppression of “unacceptable” differences (not directly, but by encouraging the lifestyles of the privileged categories of population; see Young et al. 2006; Clerval and Fleury 2009), we argue that the hegemonic definition of gender violence contributes to the silencing and exclusion of migrant women sex workers. While the right to protection from gendered violence allows new claims and regulations protecting (white) women in public places and contributes to the process of gentrification targeting racialized masculinities (Lieber 2018), this same right is also mobilized to construct sex workers as heteronomous victims with no agency or as criminals, thus denying them the same protection from violence in public spaces and excluding them from equal participation in the constitution of cosmopolitan areas. In this article, we study how the double circumstances of a denied claim for local participation and a new abolitionist approach tend to further exclude sex workers from the cosmopolitan narratives on local diversity and the implementation of inclusive policies.
“Diversity” is a key word in the local political arena of contemporary France. It is used to promote a new image for districts and cities characterized by the presence of many migrants and their descendants. Discourses on urban diversity can be framed within academic debates on the “cosmopolitan city,” in which cosmopolitanism is not understood as an individual way of life or philosophy (i.e., being a global citizen) but as an (collective) attitude, a form of openness to differences and diversity (Binnie et al. 2006), a tendency to value and promote diversity. Taking the case of Manchester city center, Young et al. (2006) describe how urban regeneration policies (often linked to gentrification processes) are based on cosmopolitan discourses, which in turn produce definitions of what is acceptable and not acceptable in terms of difference. They underline how narratives contribute to the framing of acceptable diversity: “The questions of what is ‘acceptable’ difference, who decides this and what impacts this has on diversity in cities highlight the inherently political nature of so-called cosmopolitan strategies” (Young et al. 2006, 1689). The controversy launched by the Chinese sex workers in some districts of Paris is another case study of how political power relations contribute to the definition of diversity and who belongs to a city defined in terms of cosmopolitanism.

Based on interviews with different actors (Chinese migrant women, elected representatives, NGOs and other supporters), the analysis of local debates (observation of local committees, minutes of city council meetings), and data on violence suffered by Chinese sex workers in Paris, this article questions the contingent place of migrant sex workers in official cosmopolitan narratives and documents their quest for recognition and belonging. A paradoxical definition of gender violence contributes to deny Chinese sex workers the right to be political agents and to be considered legitimate users of the city. We discuss the (hardly visible) contribution of migrant women in the discourse of cosmopolitan policies through the *contested definitions of diversity*, on the one hand, and of *gender violence, safety and autonomy*, on the other hand. In the context of “soft” gentrification, where various policies contribute to the eviction of “undesirable” populations or the suppression of “unacceptable” differences (not directly, but by encouraging the lifestyles of the privileged categories of population; see Young et al. 2006; Clerval and Fleury 2009), we argue that the hegemonic definition of gender violence contributes to the silencing and exclusion of migrant women sex workers. While the right to protection from gendered violence allows new claims and regulations protecting (white) women in public places and contributes to the process of gentrification targeting racialized masculinities (Lieber 2018), this same right is also mobilized to construct sex workers as heteronomous victims with no agency or as criminals, thus denying them the same protection from violence in public spaces and excluding them from equal participation in the constitution of cosmopolitan areas. In this article, we study how the double circumstances of a denied claim for local participation and a new abolitionist approach tend to further exclude sex workers from the cosmopolitan narratives on local diversity and the implementation of inclusive policies.
## 10.2 The Context: Chinese Prostitution in Gentrifying Districts of Paris

In the early 2000s, a few Chinese migrant women started to sell sexual services around the red-light district of Paris, near Rue Saint-Denis. While some of them still work in this area along with “traditional” French sex workers and other migrant women, other spots of street work have appeared in districts of Paris not known for prostitution, such as Belleville and Triangle de Choisy.

Belleville has a long history of mixed populations. During the last century it was a gathering and settling place for many new immigrants. The Armenian, Greek, and Polish Jewish communities which developed there before the Second World War were largely replaced after the war, and running alongside the decolonization process, by Sephardic Jews from Tunisia (Simon and Tapia 1998) and Algerian migrant workers who found cheap hostels in the neighborhood. The area, which is close to one of the oldest places of residence for Chinese immigrants (Arts et Métiers) and remained relatively cheap until the beginning of the 2000s, was also a “way of entry” (“sas” in French) from the 1970s to the early 2000s for new Chinese migrants, especially ones from the Wenzhou community (Kloeckner 2017). Today the area is considered one of Paris’s Chinatowns, with a Chinese population cohabiting with lively North African communities. Belleville is considered a cosmopolitan area of Paris. If a certain form of gentrification started decades ago with the arrival of artists who settled in Belleville because they could find cheap studios, the cosmopolitan and popular atmosphere of the district was accelerated in the early 2000s by the arrival of upper middle-class residents attracted by cheaper rents (Clerval 2017).

The case of the 13th district, and especially what is called the “Choisy Triangle” (Guillon and Taboada-Léonetti 1986), is quite different. Except for European immigrants during the first half of the twentieth century, the area has no history of hosting migrant communities. It was only when refugees from the former colonies of Indochina arrived in the 1970s and 1980s that a visible foreign community became established and that ethnic businesses developed. The Triangle de Choisy is now considered the main Asian district in Paris. It is the first area in which the council sought out dialogue with Asian residents and where Asian representatives were elected. The image of the district that is promoted is that of a middle-class, family-friendly, safe area. The well-established Asian communities are largely gentrified. They defend this identity, which tends to exclude more popular or irregular use of public space.

In both of these districts, local councils are ruled by leftist parties (until recently, the Socialist Party) which value the cosmopolitan diversity of these areas. However, the current mayors of the 13th and 19th arrondissements espouse conservative security discourse, especially when it comes to public spaces and the presence of Chinese sex workers in their districts.

According to both official and NGO estimates, Chinese sex workers constitute one of the main groups of sex workers in Paris (the other main areas of origin are
## 10.2 The Context: Chinese Prostitution in Gentrifying Districts of Paris

In the early 2000s, a few Chinese migrant women started to sell sexual services around the red-light district of Paris, near Rue Saint-Denis. While some of them still work in this area along with “traditional” French sex workers and other migrant women, other spots of street work have appeared in districts of Paris not known for prostitution, such as Belleville and Triangle de Choisy.

Belleville has a long history of mixed populations. During the last century it was a gathering and settling place for many new immigrants. The Armenian, Greek, and Polish Jewish communities which developed there before the Second World War were largely replaced after the war, and running alongside the decolonization process, by Sephardic Jews from Tunisia (Simon and Tapia 1998) and Algerian migrant workers who found cheap hostels in the neighborhood. The area, which is close to one of the oldest places of residence for Chinese immigrants (Arts et Métiers) and remained relatively cheap until the beginning of the 2000s, was also a “way of entry” (“sas” in French) from the 1970s to the early 2000s for new Chinese migrants, especially ones from the Wenzhou community (Kloeckner 2017). Today the area is considered one of Paris’s Chinatowns, with a Chinese population cohabiting with lively North African communities. Belleville is considered a cosmopolitan area of Paris. If a certain form of gentrification started decades ago with the arrival of artists who settled in Belleville because they could find cheap studios, the cosmopolitan and popular atmosphere of the district was accelerated in the early 2000s by the arrival of upper middle-class residents attracted by cheaper rents (Clerval 2017).

The case of the 13th district, and especially what is called the “Choisy Triangle” (Guillon and Taboada-Léonetti 1986), is quite different. Except for European immigrants during the first half of the twentieth century, the area has no history of hosting migrant communities. It was only when refugees from the former colonies of Indochina arrived in the 1970s and 1980s that a visible foreign community became established and that ethnic businesses developed. The Triangle de Choisy is now considered the main Asian district in Paris. It is the first area in which the council sought out dialogue with Asian residents and where Asian representatives were elected. The image of the district that is promoted is that of a middle-class, family-friendly, safe area. The well-established Asian communities are largely gentrified. They defend this identity, which tends to exclude more popular or irregular use of public space.

In both of these districts, local councils are ruled by leftist parties (until recently, the Socialist Party) which value the cosmopolitan diversity of these areas. However, the current mayors of the 13th and 19th arrondissements espouse conservative security discourse, especially when it comes to public spaces and the presence of Chinese sex workers in their districts.

According to both official and NGO estimates, Chinese sex workers constitute one of the main groups of sex workers in Paris (the other main areas of origin are
Eastern Europe, sub-Saharan Africa, and South America).<fnref n="1" /> They are visible and concentrated in areas where very few or no other sex workers go, such as the 13th and 19th arrondissements. Chinese migrant sex workers are marginalized both within the host society in general and within Chinese migrant communities. Like many other migrant sex workers, they tend to have an irregular legal status, precarious finances (having often arrived indebted) and unstable housing situations. They do not speak French or English, and their activity – sex work – is stigmatized. In addition, they are also often marginalized within existing Chinese networks that may facilitate access to housing and the job market. In fact, none of them are part of the main group of Chinese migrants in France, who come from the area of Wenzhou in Zhejiang province. They come from “new” places of emigration in China, places with no tradition of migration (Cattelain et al. 2005). Most of these women migrated outside of networks or just with the contact of a relative or some acquaintances. They engage in sex work because, as they put it, they cannot find a job within the “Chinese job market” in Paris or because the kind of jobs they can find as undocumented workers are very exploitative (Lévy and Lieber 2009; Lévy 2012; Le Bail 2017).

Besides their precarious and stigmatized situation as migrant sex workers, the ubiquity of violence in everyday life needs to be described to understand why these women mobilized themselves. Two different aspects of violence concurred in pushing their claims for recognition. First, like most migrant street sex workers, they are overexposed to all kinds of violence, and in particular physical and sexual violence, as reported in a 2010–11 survey by the NGO Doctors of the World.<fnref n="2" /> But like other sex workers, the violence they face does not only come from clients or from their activity (Mathieu 2002). The same survey also highlighted the fact that Chinese women were targeted by police operations under the law (between 2003 and 2016) criminalizing solicitation in public spaces.<fnref n="3" /> Paradoxically, they continued to be targeted by the police even after a new law passed in 2016 which decriminalized solicitation and criminalized clients.

<footnote n="1">¹Most publications and actors in the field of sex work use the same sources: estimates by the OCRTEH which are based on police data on pimp affairs and arrests for soliciting. See also Mainsant 2014. According to the NGO Doctors of the World, who launched a reach-out program with translation services in 2004 targeting Chinese sex workers, the number of women they met through their actions in Paris increased from about 300–400 in 2005 to more than 600 in 2010 and then to more than 1000 in 2015 (Médecins du Monde, Activity Report of the *Lotus Bus* mission, 2005–2015, unpublished).</footnote>

<footnote n="2">²Among the interviewees, 38% had been victims of rape since they started working in France, 23% victims of sequestration, and 17% of death threats. 86% answered that they had been victims of at least one form of violence. Médecins du Monde, “Travailleuses du sexe chinoises à Paris face aux violences,” December 2012. The method was a mix of closed questions and semi-directive questions answered by 86 individuals.</footnote>

<footnote n="3">³Médecins du Monde, “Travailleuses du sexe chinoises à Paris face aux violences,” December 2012.</footnote>
Eastern Europe, sub-Saharan Africa, and South America).<fnref n="1" /> They are visible and concentrated in areas where very few or no other sex workers go, such as the 13th and 19th arrondissements. Chinese migrant sex workers are marginalized both within the host society in general and within Chinese migrant communities. Like many other migrant sex workers, they tend to have an irregular legal status, precarious finances (having often arrived indebted) and unstable housing situations. They do not speak French or English, and their activity – sex work – is stigmatized. In addition, they are also often marginalized within existing Chinese networks that may facilitate access to housing and the job market. In fact, none of them are part of the main group of Chinese migrants in France, who come from the area of Wenzhou in Zhejiang province. They come from “new” places of emigration in China, places with no tradition of migration (Cattelain et al. 2005). Most of these women migrated outside of networks or just with the contact of a relative or some acquaintances. They engage in sex work because, as they put it, they cannot find a job within the “Chinese job market” in Paris or because the kind of jobs they can find as undocumented workers are very exploitative (Lévy and Lieber 2009; Lévy 2012; Le Bail 2017).

Besides their precarious and stigmatized situation as migrant sex workers, the ubiquity of violence in everyday life needs to be described to understand why these women mobilized themselves. Two different aspects of violence concurred in pushing their claims for recognition. First, like most migrant street sex workers, they are overexposed to all kinds of violence, and in particular physical and sexual violence, as reported in a 2010–11 survey by the NGO Doctors of the World.<fnref n="2" /> But like other sex workers, the violence they face does not only come from clients or from their activity (Mathieu 2002). The same survey also highlighted the fact that Chinese women were targeted by police operations under the law (between 2003 and 2016) criminalizing solicitation in public spaces.<fnref n="3" /> Paradoxically, they continued to be targeted by the police even after a new law passed in 2016 which decriminalized solicitation and criminalized clients.

<footnote n="1">¹Most publications and actors in the field of sex work use the same sources: estimates by the OCRTEH which are based on police data on pimp affairs and arrests for soliciting. See also Mainsant 2014. According to the NGO Doctors of the World, who launched a reach-out program with translation services in 2004 targeting Chinese sex workers, the number of women they met through their actions in Paris increased from about 300–400 in 2005 to more than 600 in 2010 and then to more than 1000 in 2015 (Médecins du Monde, Activity Report of the *Lotus Bus* mission, 2005–2015, unpublished).</footnote>

<footnote n="2">²Among the interviewees, 38% had been victims of rape since they started working in France, 23% victims of sequestration, and 17% of death threats. 86% answered that they had been victims of at least one form of violence. Médecins du Monde, “Travailleuses du sexe chinoises à Paris face aux violences,” December 2012. The method was a mix of closed questions and semi-directive questions answered by 86 individuals.</footnote>

<footnote n="3">³Médecins du Monde, “Travailleuses du sexe chinoises à Paris face aux violences,” December 2012.</footnote>
In 2003 the “Loi de sécurité intérieure” extended the criminalization of solicitation to include passive solicitation (in other words, waiting for clients in a public space). However, the justice system tended to not support prosecutions of this extension and very few sex workers were prosecuted (Mainsant 2013). The offense of solicitation was mainly used by local authorities to regulate sex work in their localities, depending on the willingness of elected officials to respond to local neighborhood pressure. While police operations may have decreased in many places after the law changed in 2016, in the 13th and 19th arrondissements, where the number of Chinese sex workers increased in the 2010s, more police operations were launched on the demand of local authorities (Commission nationale Citoyens-Justice-Police 2013).

While many street sex workers hoped that the passage of the 2016 law would lead to loosened police control, other modes of control immediately replaced arrests for solicitation. In one area, the police began to carry out regular identity controls under the requisition by the public prosecutor of Paris. Even though such control operations are not supposed to target a specific population group, many Chinese sex workers have given evidence of being targeted. Some abusive practices by the police, such as verbal threats and depriving women of cash earnings, have also been reported. According to the general secretary of the *syndicat de la magistrature* [Magistrates Union], the collected statements could prove police harassment of Chinese sex workers in order to force them to move their places of work to another district. Another way to push sex workers out of an area is through operations targeting pimping. These operations target people renting rooms out for sex work, a practice forbidden in France. If these operations mainly target apartment owners and end in working apartments being shut down, in other instances police operations seem to target apartments where the Chinese women live, not work (as was the case in a 2013 operation). Among the tens of people arrested in that operation, almost all of them were rapidly released and not even considered as victims of pimping (Le Bail 2015). Such a police operation could be considered as a way to intimidate the Chinese women from working in a particular area.

Along with sex workers’ unions and NGOs supporting Chinese sex workers considering these police operations as a form of violence, as well as a source of further stigmatization, precarity, and increased exposure to all forms of violence, migrant women started to voice their concerns in order to reverse the prevailing political logic of suppression and control (Le Bail 2015). This experience of violence alongside dialogue with various local activists allowed the Chinese migrant sex workers to have new perceptions and expectations. They began to defend their local belonging, asking for more security and for being considered as legitimate users of public spaces.
In 2003 the “Loi de sécurité intérieure” extended the criminalization of solicitation to include passive solicitation (in other words, waiting for clients in a public space). However, the justice system tended to not support prosecutions of this extension and very few sex workers were prosecuted (Mainsant 2013). The offense of solicitation was mainly used by local authorities to regulate sex work in their localities, depending on the willingness of elected officials to respond to local neighborhood pressure. While police operations may have decreased in many places after the law changed in 2016, in the 13th and 19th arrondissements, where the number of Chinese sex workers increased in the 2010s, more police operations were launched on the demand of local authorities (Commission nationale Citoyens-Justice-Police 2013).

While many street sex workers hoped that the passage of the 2016 law would lead to loosened police control, other modes of control immediately replaced arrests for solicitation. In one area, the police began to carry out regular identity controls under the requisition by the public prosecutor of Paris. Even though such control operations are not supposed to target a specific population group, many Chinese sex workers have given evidence of being targeted. Some abusive practices by the police, such as verbal threats and depriving women of cash earnings, have also been reported. According to the general secretary of the *syndicat de la magistrature* [Magistrates Union], the collected statements could prove police harassment of Chinese sex workers in order to force them to move their places of work to another district. Another way to push sex workers out of an area is through operations targeting pimping. These operations target people renting rooms out for sex work, a practice forbidden in France. If these operations mainly target apartment owners and end in working apartments being shut down, in other instances police operations seem to target apartments where the Chinese women live, not work (as was the case in a 2013 operation). Among the tens of people arrested in that operation, almost all of them were rapidly released and not even considered as victims of pimping (Le Bail 2015). Such a police operation could be considered as a way to intimidate the Chinese women from working in a particular area.

Along with sex workers’ unions and NGOs supporting Chinese sex workers considering these police operations as a form of violence, as well as a source of further stigmatization, precarity, and increased exposure to all forms of violence, migrant women started to voice their concerns in order to reverse the prevailing political logic of suppression and control (Le Bail 2015). This experience of violence alongside dialogue with various local activists allowed the Chinese migrant sex workers to have new perceptions and expectations. They began to defend their local belonging, asking for more security and for being considered as legitimate users of public spaces.
By sweeping the ground here, we take our responsibilities. We live here. We laugh here, we cry here, we work here, do the shopping here, and take the sun here. Some of us here are married, have children, form families. *We want to show that we are part of this neighborhood.*

What is Belleville (beautiful city) the name of? They told us that because of us, Belleville is not beautiful anymore, because we are ugly, we are dirty, and we are ignoble. But who are they to judge us? Are they more beautiful than us, cleaner than us, nobler than us? Solving social issues with violence is trying to humiliate us, insult us. To ignore our voice is to ignore our existence, to ignore our lives. (Roses d'Acier 2016, emphasis added)

By sweeping the streets, the collective tried to question the limits of abstract dis- courses on the “beauty” of the area – its “beautiful diversity.” The Chinese migrant sex workers presented themselves as city users with families, as good mothers, not illegitimate users of the area. As we emphasized above, they claimed their right to be considered part of this diversity, part of the “neighborhood”; they claimed their right to the city and to local belonging in many speeches between 2014 and 2016. Since they were not invited to public meetings or local street events and were often refused appointments with local representatives, the collective created its own dia- logue with other residents. During the sweeping operation (which was repeated three times in summer 2015), they asked supporters to distribute flyers in French and explain to passers-by their willingness to open up a dialogue. They also partici- pated in a local street music festival in which anyone can perform without permis- sion by singing Chinese songs and distributing flyers about the collective.

One year later, the decriminalization of solicitation had not stopped police harassment. The collective decided to organize a public meeting on prostitution in June 2016. With support from neighbors and other associations, other residents were invited to take part in this event in order to open a dialogue to find ways of coexistence. Central to the discussion was the issue of morality – i.e., the issue of “diversity of values” – and, most importantly, tranquility and security (with the usual assumption that sex workers attract noisy and violent people in their buildings and in the area in general). This question of security was also the core of the Chinese sex workers’ arguments. They argued that measures to suppress prostitution create a vicious circle in which stigmatized sex workers tend to feel less legitimate in reporting violence to the police and that violent offenders may feel emboldened in their use of violence, resulting in greater insecurity and new demands from resi- dents to repress sex work. This “vicious circle” (Roses d'Acier 2016) was meant to highlight the fact that Chinese sex workers were very much the victims rather than the cause of violence in public spaces.
By sweeping the ground here, we take our responsibilities. We live here. We laugh here, we cry here, we work here, do the shopping here, and take the sun here. Some of us here are married, have children, form families. We want to show that we are part of this neighborhood.

What is Belleville (beautiful city) the name of? They told us that because of us, Belleville is not beautiful anymore, because we are ugly, we are dirty, and we are ignoble. But who are they to judge us? Are they more beautiful than us, cleaner than us, nobler than us? Solving social issues with violence is trying to humiliate us, insult us. To ignore our voice is to ignore our existence, to ignore our lives. (Roses d'Acier 2016, emphasis added)

By sweeping the streets, the collective tried to question the limits of abstract dis- courses on the “beauty” of the area – its “beautiful diversity.” The Chinese migrant sex workers presented themselves as city users with families, as good mothers, not illegitimate users of the area. As we emphasized above, they claimed their right to be considered part of this diversity, part of the “neighborhood”; they claimed their right to the city and to local belonging in many speeches between 2014 and 2016. Since they were not invited to public meetings or local street events and were often refused appointments with local representatives, the collective created its own dia- logue with other residents. During the sweeping operation (which was repeated three times in summer 2015), they asked supporters to distribute flyers in French and explain to passers-by their willingness to open up a dialogue. They also partici- pated in a local street music festival in which anyone can perform without permis- sion by singing Chinese songs and distributing flyers about the collective.

One year later, the decriminalization of solicitation had not stopped police harassment. The collective decided to organize a public meeting on prostitution in June 2016. With support from neighbors and other associations, other residents were invited to take part in this event in order to open a dialogue to find ways of coexistence. Central to the discussion was the issue of morality – i.e., the issue of “diversity of values” – and, most importantly, tranquility and security (with the usual assumption that sex workers attract noisy and violent people in their buildings and in the area in general). This question of security was also the core of the Chinese sex workers’ arguments. They argued that measures to suppress prostitution create a vicious circle in which stigmatized sex workers tend to feel less legitimate in reporting violence to the police and that violent offenders may feel emboldened in their use of violence, resulting in greater insecurity and new demands from resi- dents to repress sex work. This “vicious circle” (Roses d'Acier 2016) was meant to highlight the fact that Chinese sex workers were very much the victims rather than the cause of violence in public spaces.
## 10.4 Disorder, Moral and Diversity: (Failed) Redefinition of Gender Violence

Two years later, in the Triangle de Choisy, also known for its Chinese-origin residents, Roses d'Acier also tried to reverse the logic of security measures after a video posted by the district mayor on his Facebook page described Chinese sex workers as a major menace to the quality of life and security of “families” and as a threat to public safety. Again, Chinese sex workers were constituted as illegitimate residents. The following is a transcription of the district mayor's speech, which was shot on a hidden camera on a street where Chinese women were working in the background:

> What you will see in this video is obvious: illegal street peddling, clandestine gaming tables, and prostitutes in front of a school. [...] One cannot bear this situation any longer. It is the everyday life of families living in the district that is severely deteriorated, in spite of all the initiatives we have taken to ameliorate people's wellbeing. The many investments done in the area are jeopardized by the *mafia drift*. And, when saying mafia drift, I still measure my words [...] I send a call to the Minister of Interior Affairs, Mr. Collomb. "Mr. Minister, like myself you have been a mayor before, like myself you know that *the priority is to guarantee security and quality of life for residents*, like myself, you understand how difficult a mission it is. I ask you to put all *the necessary means to secure prevention, intelligence service and repression*. (Fieldwork document, emphasis supplied)

The Chinese sex workers' collective organized a meeting after the video was released. With the help of a supporting NGO, Les Roses d'Acier wrote a letter that was sent to all the elected representatives of the district and other association actors. Expressing their desire to open a dialogue, they reminded the mayor that they also belonged to the area and should be considered as residents of “our district”:

> Mayor, we are the sex workers of the 13th district of Paris. We write to you today in order to express our anger regarding the video you posted on your Facebook page on 11 July 2017 dealing with security and the need to repress street “mafia drift.” *We rather would like to open a well-reasoned dialogue with the city hall and residents in the aim of finding solutions for better security and wellbeing in our district.* Until today, the video had gathered more than 4600 views, and was passed on by leparisien.fr on July 12th. It sparked many reactions and discussions and turned the Chinese sex workers, an already vulnerable group of population, into scapegoats. (Fieldwork document, emphasis supplied)

Among various arguments, they questioned the mayor's manner of framing the issue of insecurity: “While we are the first victims of insecurity in the 13th district, you *point to us as the source of insecurity*” (Ibid.).

Besides the fact that the sex workers are not recognized as legitimate residents to be considered under the rubric of “diversity,” these different cases also underline the difficulty in being recognized as targets of violence. The presence of sex workers in urban and residential areas has always created moral anxiety over protecting “family” spaces and fears of neighborhood decline; these anxieties have led to “strategies of spatial containment” (Hubbard 2011). The political priority of urban tranquility, which insists on streets being cleared of any potential source of disorder, may partly explain why targeted local measures are not taken to address the risks of violence faced by sex workers. But another determinant factor is the revival of a
## 10.4 Disorder, Moral and Diversity: (Failed) Redefinition of Gender Violence

Two years later, in the Triangle de Choisy, also known for its Chinese-origin residents, Roses d'Acier also tried to reverse the logic of security measures after a video posted by the district mayor on his Facebook page described Chinese sex workers as a major menace to the quality of life and security of “families” and as a threat to public safety. Again, Chinese sex workers were constituted as illegitimate residents. The following is a transcription of the district mayor's speech, which was shot on a hidden camera on a street where Chinese women were working in the background:

> What you will see in this video is obvious: illegal street peddling, clandestine gaming tables, and prostitutes in front of a school. [...] One cannot bear this situation any longer. It is the everyday life of families living in the district that is severely deteriorated, in spite of all the initiatives we have taken to ameliorate people's wellbeing. The many investments done in the area are jeopardized by the *mafia drift*. And, when saying mafia drift, I still measure my words [...] I send a call to the Minister of Interior Affairs, Mr. Collomb. "Mr. Minister, like myself you have been a mayor before, like myself you know that *the priority is to guarantee security and quality of life for residents*, like myself, you understand how difficult a mission it is. I ask you to put all *the necessary means to secure prevention, intelligence service and repression*. (Fieldwork document, emphasis supplied)

The Chinese sex workers' collective organized a meeting after the video was released. With the help of a supporting NGO, Les Roses d'Acier wrote a letter that was sent to all the elected representatives of the district and other association actors. Expressing their desire to open a dialogue, they reminded the mayor that they also belonged to the area and should be considered as residents of “our district”:

> Mayor, we are the sex workers of the 13th district of Paris. We write to you today in order to express our anger regarding the video you posted on your Facebook page on 11 July 2017 dealing with security and the need to repress street “mafia drift.” *We rather would like to open a well-reasoned dialogue with the city hall and residents in the aim of finding solutions for better security and wellbeing in our district.* Until today, the video had gathered more than 4600 views, and was passed on by leparisien.fr on July 12th. It sparked many reactions and discussions and turned the Chinese sex workers, an already vulnerable group of population, into scapegoats. (Fieldwork document, emphasis supplied)

Among various arguments, they questioned the mayor's manner of framing the issue of insecurity: “While we are the first victims of insecurity in the 13th district, you *point to us as the source of insecurity*” (Ibid.).

Besides the fact that the sex workers are not recognized as legitimate residents to be considered under the rubric of “diversity,” these different cases also underline the difficulty in being recognized as targets of violence. The presence of sex workers in urban and residential areas has always created moral anxiety over protecting “family” spaces and fears of neighborhood decline; these anxieties have led to “strategies of spatial containment” (Hubbard 2011). The political priority of urban tranquility, which insists on streets being cleared of any potential source of disorder, may partly explain why targeted local measures are not taken to address the risks of violence faced by sex workers. But another determinant factor is the revival of a
prohibitionist, or neo-abolitionist, approach in the French political sphere which tends to exclude sex workers, as a sexual minority, from acceptable diversity. Paris is one city supporting such an approach (Mathieu 2014). The concrete impact of such an ideological approach is that the solution for sex workers is not to fight against the violence they are victims of in the public space but to help them “leave the street” – to push them to stop sex work and pressing for them to be invisible in the public space (Jakšić 2016). While the neo-abolitionists argue that they are trying to protect women from violence, the approach inevitably implies that sex workers cannot be part of the acceptable diversity of lifestyle, acceptable diversity of values. Although based on different ideas, tranquility policies and neo-abolitionists yield the same result: excluding sex workers from so-called “inclusive” narratives about migrant and socially mixed neighborhoods like the 13th and 19th arrondissements.

After the 2015 “sweeping operation,” the *Groupe Ecologie de Paris* engaged in a dialogue and answered the request of the Chinese sex workers asking for more protection from the State. These representatives presented a resolution at four local councils (10, 11, 19 and 20th districts of Paris) and a few weeks later, at the council of Paris (gathering the 20 districts), which sparked a large debate. Their request was for better prevention against violence suffered by sex workers rather than fighting against sex workers themselves.<fnref n="4" />

- We ask the Prefect to re-assign police forces to the fight against violence targeting sex workers, in particular to networks of human trafficking, instead of fighting against sex workers themselves (...)

- We propose the constitution of a citizen panel in order to work on solutions through the consultation of all the actors, including representatives of prostitutes themselves.<fnref n="5" />

The council members from the Socialist, Communist, and right-wing “Les Républicains” parties voted against re-assigning police operations from targeting sex workers to preventing violence against them on the grounds that doing so would lead to the “institutionalization of prostitution,” which was defined as “one of the most violent expressions of patriarchy.” The arguments related to tranquility and those supporting neo-abolitionism (which was then under discussion in the French Parliament) were presented as intimately linked to each other:

> We are mobilized in the aim of putting an end to the prostitution stage. Our approach con-ciliates the willful fight against networks [the councilor implies that the arrests of sex work-ers would be done in the objective of fighting against exploitive criminal networks], a supporting program to help victim women get access to their rights, to health prevention and to stop prostitution, and finally the possibility in the short term to free the public space.<fnref n="6" />
>
> (Socialist councilor, emphasis supplied)

<footnote n="4">⁴Minutes of local councils: Municipality of the tenth arrondissement of Paris, 15 June 2015, 63; Municipality of the 20th arrondissement of Paris, 18 June 2015, 43.</footnote>

<footnote n="5">⁵“Conseil Municipal et départemental des lundi 29, mardi 30 juin, mercredi 1er et jeudi 2 juillet 2015,” 23 September 2015, at www.paris.fr</footnote>

<footnote n="6">⁶“Conseil Municipal et départemental des 29–30 juin et 2 juillet 2015,” 23 September 2015, 436.</footnote>
prohibitionist, or neo-abolitionist, approach in the French political sphere which tends to exclude sex workers, as a sexual minority, from acceptable diversity. Paris is one city supporting such an approach (Mathieu 2014). The concrete impact of such an ideological approach is that the solution for sex workers is not to fight against the violence they are victims of in the public space but to help them “leave the street” – to push them to stop sex work and pressing for them to be invisible in the public space (Jakšić 2016). While the neo-abolitionists argue that they are trying to protect women from violence, the approach inevitably implies that sex workers cannot be part of the acceptable diversity of lifestyle, acceptable diversity of values. Although based on different ideas, tranquility policies and neo-abolitionists yield the same result: excluding sex workers from so-called “inclusive” narratives about migrant and socially mixed neighborhoods like the 13th and 19th arrondissements.

After the 2015 “sweeping operation,” the *Groupe Ecologie de Paris* engaged in a dialogue and answered the request of the Chinese sex workers asking for more protection from the State. These representatives presented a resolution at four local councils (10, 11, 19 and 20th districts of Paris) and a few weeks later, at the council of Paris (gathering the 20 districts), which sparked a large debate. Their request was for better prevention against violence suffered by sex workers rather than fighting against sex workers themselves.<fnref n="4" />

- We ask the Prefect to re-assign police forces to the fight against violence targeting sex workers, in particular to networks of human trafficking, instead of fighting against sex workers themselves (...)

- We propose the constitution of a citizen panel in order to work on solutions through the consultation of all the actors, including representatives of prostitutes themselves.<fnref n="5" />

The council members from the Socialist, Communist, and right-wing “Les Républicains” parties voted against re-assigning police operations from targeting sex workers to preventing violence against them on the grounds that doing so would lead to the “institutionalization of prostitution,” which was defined as “one of the most violent expressions of patriarchy.” The arguments related to tranquility and those supporting neo-abolitionism (which was then under discussion in the French Parliament) were presented as intimately linked to each other:

> We are mobilized in the aim of putting an end to the prostitution stage. Our approach con-ciliates the willful fight against networks [the councilor implies that the arrests of sex work-ers would be done in the objective of fighting against exploitive criminal networks], a supporting program to help victim women get access to their rights, to health prevention and to stop prostitution, and finally the possibility in the short term to free the public space.<fnref n="6" />
>
> (Socialist councilor, emphasis supplied)

<footnote n="4">⁴Minutes of local councils: Municipality of the tenth arrondissement of Paris, 15 June 2015, 63; Municipality of the 20th arrondissement of Paris, 18 June 2015, 43.</footnote>

<footnote n="5">⁵“Conseil Municipal et départemental des lundi 29, mardi 30 juin, mercredi 1er et jeudi 2 juillet 2015,” 23 September 2015, at www.paris.fr</footnote>

<footnote n="6">⁶“Conseil Municipal et départemental des 29–30 juin et 2 juillet 2015,” 23 September 2015, 436.</footnote>
In this quote, sex workers are depicted as victims of trafficking whose rights as women are incumbent upon their stopping engaging as prostitutes, which in turn is considered a way to “free the public space.” In this blurring of categories, victimhood and being a burden to the public space are connected. A large majority rejected the idea that sex workers should be protected, like other residents, by classic police operations. For prostitutes the only solution would be to stop working and “free up the public space.” In other words, the legitimate violence to fight against is prostitution per se, pimping and trafficking, but not the other forms of violence that sex workers face. This case study of the ongoing controversy around the definition of gender violence and safety in the public space is a grounded example of how discourse on diversity is constructed and negotiated and how legitimate users of the city are defined along views of acceptable activities and morality.

## 10.5 Conclusion

While discourse on gender violence does not target the notion of diversity per se, the acceptability of sex work, like other forms of sexual minority practices and identities, is clearly one controversial aspect of diversity and a test of how tolerant and open to difference a city is (Hubbard 2000; Papayanis 2000). By not acknowledging the political agency of migrant sex workers and denying them a voice, local authorities reinforce a classist interpretation of what local diversity should be and deny migrant sex workers the right to participate in the everyday life of these areas. Analyzing this demand for local belonging by migrant sex workers and examining the contested definition of gender violence allow for a further development of the critique of the narrow use of cosmopolitanism by highlighting the definition of who can or should embody diversity in such narratives. This analysis shows that a radical distinction made in defining legitimate victims of gender violence leads to some women, in this case, migrant sex workers, as being perceived as problems for the public space. The blurring of victimhood and criminality contributes to the perception that sex workers are undesirable and unacceptable others, even in areas where narratives on diversity and cosmopolitanism are valued. All this underlines the normative and moral dimension of the notion of *diversity*, and by extension the classist definition of cosmopolitanism, in these areas of Paris.

Beyond questions about the city's physical attractiveness, gentrification, diversity and social mixing, the management of prostitution through a moral lens further excludes sex workers from the public space and from the local identity of areas with significant numbers of residents with a migrant background. The case of this collective action by Chinese migrant sex workers in Paris is a creative attempt to challenge an official discourse on diversity that appears to be exclusive; it also challenges discourses surrounding policies against gendered violence in public space and excluding some women. The case study shows how the dichotomic approach of sex work – as violence per se and as a source of social disorder – allows political representatives to exclude sex workers from local processes of inclusion, depending on
In this quote, sex workers are depicted as victims of trafficking whose rights as women are incumbent upon their stopping engaging as prostitutes, which in turn is considered a way to “free the public space.” In this blurring of categories, victimhood and being a burden to the public space are connected. A large majority rejected the idea that sex workers should be protected, like other residents, by classic police operations. For prostitutes the only solution would be to stop working and “free up the public space.” In other words, the legitimate violence to fight against is prostitution per se, pimping and trafficking, but not the other forms of violence that sex workers face. This case study of the ongoing controversy around the definition of gender violence and safety in the public space is a grounded example of how discourse on diversity is constructed and negotiated and how legitimate users of the city are defined along views of acceptable activities and morality.

## 10.5 Conclusion

While discourse on gender violence does not target the notion of diversity per se, the acceptability of sex work, like other forms of sexual minority practices and identities, is clearly one controversial aspect of diversity and a test of how tolerant and open to difference a city is (Hubbard 2000; Papayanis 2000). By not acknowledging the political agency of migrant sex workers and denying them a voice, local authorities reinforce a classist interpretation of what local diversity should be and deny migrant sex workers the right to participate in the everyday life of these areas. Analyzing this demand for local belonging by migrant sex workers and examining the contested definition of gender violence allow for a further development of the critique of the narrow use of cosmopolitanism by highlighting the definition of who can or should embody diversity in such narratives. This analysis shows that a radical distinction made in defining legitimate victims of gender violence leads to some women, in this case, migrant sex workers, as being perceived as problems for the public space. The blurring of victimhood and criminality contributes to the perception that sex workers are undesirable and unacceptable others, even in areas where narratives on diversity and cosmopolitanism are valued. All this underlines the normative and moral dimension of the notion of *diversity*, and by extension the classist definition of cosmopolitanism, in these areas of Paris.

Beyond questions about the city's physical attractiveness, gentrification, diversity and social mixing, the management of prostitution through a moral lens further excludes sex workers from the public space and from the local identity of areas with significant numbers of residents with a migrant background. The case of this collective action by Chinese migrant sex workers in Paris is a creative attempt to challenge an official discourse on diversity that appears to be exclusive; it also challenges discourses surrounding policies against gendered violence in public space and excluding some women. The case study shows how the dichotomic approach of sex work – as violence per se and as a source of social disorder – allows political representatives to exclude sex workers from local processes of inclusion, depending on
the context. As a source of social disorder, they are undesirable and excluded from discourses on diversity by not being considered as part of the neighborhood. As “victims of prostitution” (when prostitution is considered as a form of violence per se), they are excluded from measures to fight against gendered violence in public space, since the solution is to protect the sex workers by removing them from the public space. As such, multiple logics contribute to denying their attempt to speak, to be heard, and to use their political agency. Despite the failure of the initiatives of some Chinese migrant women in Paris, their claims highlight the constant redefinition of local urban identities. This example shows how even vulnerable city dwellers participate from below in constructing the city’s cosmopolitan identity and image.

## References

Binnie, J., Holloway, J., Millington, S., & Young, C. (Eds). (2006). *Cosmopolitan urbanism* (259 p). London: Routledge.

Cattelain, C., Lieber, M., Saillard, C., & Ngugen, S. (2005). Les Déclassés du Nord. *Revue européenne des migrations internationals*, 21(3). At http://journals.openedition.org/remi/2521

Clerval, A. (2017). *Paris Sans Le Peuple: La Gentrification De La Capitale*. Paris: La Découverte.

Clerval, A., & Fleury, A. (2009). Politiques urbaines et gentrification, une analyse critique à partir du cas de Paris. *L'Espace Politique*, 8(2). At http://journals.openedition.org/espacepolitique/1314

Commission nationale Citoyens-Justice-Police. (2013, March). Un harcèlement institutionnalisé, Les prostituées chinoises et le délit de racolage public. At http://www.syndicat-magistrature.org/Un-harcelement-institutionnalise.html

Guillon, M., & Tabaoda-Leonetti, I. (1986). *Le triangle de Choisy: un quartier chinois à Paris*. Paris: CIEMI, l'Harmattan.

Hubbard, P. (2000). Desire/disgust: Mapping the moral contours of heterosexuality. *Progress in Human Geography*, 24(2), 191–217.

Hubbard, P. (2011). *Cities and sexualities*. London: Routledge.

Jakšić, M. (2016). *La traite des êtres humains en France. De la victime idéale à la victime coupable*. Paris: CNRS Éditions.

Kloeckner, L. (2017). Belleville, quartier chinois à la croisée des flux migratoires. In T. Sanjuan (Ed.), *Les chinatowns: trajectoires urbaines de l'identité chinoise à l'heure de la mondialisation* (pp. 245–279). Paris: Prodig.

Le Bail, H. (2015). Mobilisation de femmes chinoises migrantes se prostituant à Paris. De l'invisibilité à l'action collective. *Genre, sexualité & société*, 14. At http://gss.revues.org/3679

Le Bail, H. (2017, May 30). Les travailleuses du sexe chinoises entre repression et revendication. *La vie des Idées*.

Lévy, F. (2012). La Migration des Chinoises du Nord: une alternative genrée? *Perspectives chinoises*. At http://perspectiveschinoises.revues.org/6423

Lévy, F., & Lieber, M. (2009). La sexualité comme ressource migratoire, Les Chinoises du Nord à Paris. *Revue Française de Sociologie*, 50(4), 719–746.

Lieber, M. (2018). ‘From territories to city centers’: The ambivalent management of women’s safety and gentrification? *French Politics*, 16(1), 64–79.

Mainsant, G. (2013). Gérer les contradictions du droit ‘par le bas’. Logiques de police en currence dans le contrôle de la prostitution de rue à Paris. *Actes de la recherche en sciences sociales*, 198, 23–34.

Mainsant, G. (2014). Comment la Mondaine construit-elle ses populations cibles? Le genre des pratiques policières et la gestion des illégalismes sexuels. *Genèses*, 4(97), 8–25. At https://www.cairn.info/revue-geneses-2014-4-page-8.htm
the context. As a source of social disorder, they are undesirable and excluded from discourses on diversity by not being considered as part of the neighborhood. As “victims of prostitution” (when prostitution is considered as a form of violence per se), they are excluded from measures to fight against gendered violence in public space, since the solution is to protect the sex workers by removing them from the public space. As such, multiple logics contribute to denying their attempt to speak, to be heard, and to use their political agency. Despite the failure of the initiatives of some Chinese migrant women in Paris, their claims highlight the constant redefinition of local urban identities. This example shows how even vulnerable city dwellers participate from below in constructing the city’s cosmopolitan identity and image.

## References

Binnie, J., Holloway, J., Millington, S., & Young, C. (Eds). (2006). *Cosmopolitan urbanism* (259 p). London: Routledge.

Cattelain, C., Lieber, M., Saillard, C., & Ngugen, S. (2005). Les Déclassés du Nord. *Revue européenne des migrations internationals*, 21(3). At http://journals.openedition.org/remi/2521

Clerval, A. (2017). *Paris Sans Le Peuple: La Gentrification De La Capitale*. Paris: La Découverte.

Clerval, A., & Fleury, A. (2009). Politiques urbaines et gentrification, une analyse critique à partir du cas de Paris. *L'Espace Politique*, 8(2). At http://journals.openedition.org/espacepolitique/1314

Commission nationale Citoyens-Justice-Police. (2013, March). Un harcèlement institutionnalisé, Les prostituées chinoises et le délit de racolage public. At http://www.syndicat-magistrature.org/Un-harcelement-institutionnalise.html

Guillon, M., & Tabaoda-Leonetti, I. (1986). *Le triangle de Choisy: un quartier chinois à Paris*. Paris: CIEMI, l'Harmattan.

Hubbard, P. (2000). Desire/disgust: Mapping the moral contours of heterosexuality. *Progress in Human Geography*, 24(2), 191–217.

Hubbard, P. (2011). *Cities and sexualities*. London: Routledge.

Jakšić, M. (2016). *La traite des êtres humains en France. De la victime idéale à la victime coupable*. Paris: CNRS Éditions.

Kloeckner, L. (2017). Belleville, quartier chinois à la croisée des flux migratoires. In T. Sanjuan (Ed.), *Les chinatowns: trajectoires urbaines de l'identité chinoise à l'heure de la mondialisation* (pp. 245–279). Paris: Prodig.

Le Bail, H. (2015). Mobilisation de femmes chinoises migrantes se prostituant à Paris. De l'invisibilité à l'action collective. *Genre, sexualité & société*, 14. At http://gss.revues.org/3679

Le Bail, H. (2017, May 30). Les travailleuses du sexe chinoises entre repression et revendication. *La vie des Idées*.

Lévy, F. (2012). La Migration des Chinoises du Nord: une alternative genrée? *Perspectives chinoises*. At http://perspectiveschinoises.revues.org/6423

Lévy, F., & Lieber, M. (2009). La sexualité comme ressource migratoire, Les Chinoises du Nord à Paris. *Revue Française de Sociologie*, 50(4), 719–746.

Lieber, M. (2018). ‘From territories to city centers’: The ambivalent management of women’s safety and gentrification? *French Politics*, 16(1), 64–79.

Mainsant, G. (2013). Gérer les contradictions du droit ‘par le bas’. Logiques de police en currence dans le contrôle de la prostitution de rue à Paris. *Actes de la recherche en sciences sociales*, 198, 23–34.

Mainsant, G. (2014). Comment la Mondaine construit-elle ses populations cibles? Le genre des pratiques policières et la gestion des illégalismes sexuels. *Genèses*, 4(97), 8–25. At https://www.cairn.info/revue-geneses-2014-4-page-8.htm
Mathieu, L. (2002). Quand ‘la peur devient une existence’: Sur la place de la violence dans le monde de la prostitution. *L’Homme et la société, 143–144*, 47–63.

Mathieu, L. (2014). Invisibiliser et éloigner: quelques tendances des politiques de la prostitution. *Regards croisés sur l’économie, 15*, 290–301.

Papayanis, M. (2000). Sex and the Revanchist City: Zoning out the pornography in New York. *Environment and Planning D: Society and Space, 18*(3), 341–353.

Roses d'Acier. (2016, March). What gives them the right to judge us? *Open Democracy*. At https://www.opendemocracy.net/beyondslavery/sws/roses-dacier/what-gives-them-right-to-judge-us

Simon, P., & Tapia, C. (1998). *Le Belleville Des Juifs Tunisiens*. Paris: Autrement.

Young, C., Diep, M., & Drabble, S. (2006). Living with difference? The ‘Cosmopolitan City’ and urban reimaging in Manchester. *UK Urban Studies, 43*(10), 1687–1714.

**Open Access** This chapter is licensed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits use, sharing, adaptation, distribution and reproduction in any medium or format, as long as you give appropriate credit to the original author(s) and the source, provide a link to the Creative Commons license and indicate if changes were made.

The images or other third party material in this chapter are included in the chapter's Creative Commons license, unless indicated otherwise in a credit line to the material. If material is not included in the chapter's Creative Commons license and your intended use is not permitted by statutory regulation or exceeds the permitted use, you will need to obtain permission directly from the copyright holder.

<figure><img src="image_31.png" /></figure>
Mathieu, L. (2002). Quand 'la peur devient une existence': Sur la place de la violence dans le monde de la prostitution. *L'Homme et la société, 143-144*, 47-63.

Mathieu, L. (2014). Invisibiliser et éloigner: quelques tendances des politiques de la prostitution. *Regards croisés sur l'économie, 15*, 290-301.

Papayanis, M. (2000). Sex and the Revanchist City: Zoning out the pornography in New York. *Environment and Planning D: Society and Space, 18*(3), 341-353.

Roses d'Acier. (2016, March). What gives them the right to judge us? *Open Democracy*. At https://www.opendemocracy.net/beyondslavery/sws/roses-dacier/what-gives-them-right-to-judge-us

Simon, P., & Tapia, C. (1998). *Le Belleville Des Juifs Tunisiens*. Paris: Autrement.

Young, C., Diep, M., & Drabble, S. (2006). Living with difference? The 'Cosmopolitan City' and urban reimaging in Manchester. *UK Urban Studies, 43*(10), 1687-1714.

**Open Access** This chapter is licensed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits use, sharing, adaptation, distribution and reproduction in any medium or format, as long as you give appropriate credit to the original author(s) and the source, provide a link to the Creative Commons license and indicate if changes were made.

The images or other third party material in this chapter are included in the chapter's Creative Commons license, unless indicated otherwise in a credit line to the material. If material is not included in the chapter's Creative Commons license and your intended use is not permitted by statutory regulation or exceeds the permitted use, you will need to obtain permission directly from the copyright holder.

<figure><img src="image_31.png" /></figure>
# Chapter 11
## Cosmopolitanism in US Sanctuary Cities: Dreamers Claiming Urban Citizenship

<figure><img src="image_32.png" /></figure>

Check for
updates

Catherine Lejeune

### 11.1 Introduction

“The rise of sanctuary cities signals the ability of cities to contest the exclusionary nature of national citizenship and redefine the contours of citizenship in a more inclusive manner” (Lambert and Swerts 2019, 91). I will use this statement as a starting point to discussing contemporary US sanctuary policies and practices, and their relationship to the undocumented population in cities, with a focus on migrant youth activism.

Revisiting sanctuary cities seems appropriate as references to the US designation are made more and more frequently at a moment when Western countries face large arrivals of populations seeking refuge, asylum or an immigration status. Since 2015 the scholarly literature on the “migration crisis” in Europe has consistently referred to sanctuary as a possible model for cities willing to host and accommodate the needs of refugees, asylum seekers and undocumented migrants. The emergence of sanctuary policies in Germany, Spain, the United Kingdom, Canada, Chile and Australia indicates that the concept has been used, adapted, and refashioned. Meanwhile, the city-sanctuary movement is expanding in the US with cities renewing their status and others seeking to obtain it in order to counter the Trump administration, making it all the more necessary to carry the investigation further.

Sanctuary is far from being a clear-cut concept; it takes on different forms and concerns different groups depending on socio-spatial contexts around the world. Yet what unifies city policies worldwide is that they have all emerged in the same context of harsh national and international treatment of migrants and asylum seekers (Dauvergne 2016; Squire and Bagelman 2012). The phenomenon is not new and has already received much attention from scholars, NGOs, political actors, and the civil society: the increasing illegalization of migrants and refugees through restrictive

<footnote>C. Lejeune (✉)
LARCA, Université de Paris, Paris, France</footnote>
Chapter 11

Cosmopolitanism in US Sanctuary Cities:
Dreamers Claiming Urban Citizenship

<figure><img src="image_32.png" /></figure>

Check for
updates

Catherine Lejeune

11.1 Introduction

"The rise of sanctuary cities signals the ability of cities to contest the exclusionary nature of national citizenship and redefine the contours of citizenship in a more inclusive manner" (Lambert and Swerts 2019, 91). I will use this statement as a starting point to discussing contemporary US sanctuary policies and practices, and their relationship to the undocumented population in cities, with a focus on migrant youth activism.

Revisiting sanctuary cities seems appropriate as references to the US designation
are made more and more frequently at a moment when Western countries face large
arrivals of populations seeking refuge, asylum or an immigration status. Since 2015
the scholarly literature on the “migration crisis” in Europe has consistently referred
to sanctuary as a possible model for cities willing to host and accommodate the
needs of refugees, asylum seekers and undocumented migrants. The emergence of
sanctuary policies in Germany, Spain, the United Kingdom, Canada, Chile and
Australia indicates that the concept has been used, adapted, and refashioned.
Meanwhile, the city-sanctuary movement is expanding in the US with cities renew-
ing their status and others seeking to obtain it in order to counter the Trump admin-
istration, making it all the more necessary to carry the investigation further.

Sanctuary is far from being a clear-cut concept; it takes on different forms and
concerns different groups depending on socio-spatial contexts around the world. Yet
what unifies city policies worldwide is that they have all emerged in the same con-
text of harsh national and international treatment of migrants and asylum seekers
(Dauvergne 2016; Squire and Bagelman 2012). The phenomenon is not new and has
already received much attention from scholars, NGOs, political actors, and the civil
society: the increasing illegalization of migrants and refugees through restrictive

<footnote>C. Lejeune (✉)
LARCA, Université de Paris, Paris, France</footnote>
national migration policies in Western countries since the 1990s has prompted cities to offer sanctuary to vulnerable populations (Bauder 2016).

In this chapter, I do not intend to examine how both the term and the concept travel. Compelling comparative studies by urban geographers (Bauder 2017; Lippert and Rehaag 2013) illustrate the need for a detour into different national contexts to make sense of sanctuary. Drawing on their theoretical and empirical work and on the sizeable body of literature in the field (Bauder 2016, 2017; Bauder and Gonzales 2018; Bauder and Darling 2019; Darling 2017; Ridgley 2008; Lippert and Rehaag 2013; Varsanyi 2006; Lasch et al. 2018), I intend to unpack the concept to demonstrate how US sanctuary cities produce new forms of urban citizenship to undocumented migrants, thus contributing to the debate on sanctuary and the need to conceptualize it. As I examine some of these policies and practices, I will introduce the concept of cosmopolitanism to discuss migrants’ acts of citizenship.

## 11.2 Sanctuary Cities Foster Urban Citizenship

What are sanctuary cities offering that has garnered so much attention? In European countries, in the UK for example, sanctuary supports a culture of welcoming asylum seekers and refugees based on “ideals of responsibility and hospitality” (Darling 2010, 2017; Squire 2011). In North America, sanctuary tends to focus on municipal policing practices aiming at protecting illegalized/undocumented migrants, and one of its rationales is to promote diversity and inclusiveness (Lasch et al. 2018).<fnref n="1" /> Unsurprisingly, sanctuary initiatives fuel the animosity of the current US president who has long used a nationalistic rhetoric that further criminalizes immigration.<fnref n="2" />

How does a city receive sanctuary status? There are different types of procedures. One consists in implementing policies for public safety and immigration enforcement; another, in creating municipal identification cards. Such policies may be enacted in small or large cities, they may vary in form and content, some being more proactive than others (and in a few cases, they may not even be labeled as part of a strategy to make the city a “sanctuary”). Typically, cities enact policies of non-cooperation with the federal agency in charge of immigration enforcement (ICE). Such policies, referred to as DADTs – *Don’t ask, Don’t tell* – enable all residents to access city services without revealing their legal status.

Scholars agree that legislating for access to municipal services regardless of status and protecting residents by refusing to cooperate with immigration authorities constitutes a form of urban citizenship (Ridgley 2008; Darling 2017). But this form of citizenship does not necessarily come with inscribed rights for unauthorized

<footnote n="1">¹ Bauder refers to migrants without immigration status as “illegalized,” focusing on the responsibility of national authorities in the production of illegalization. The scholarly literature in the field often uses the term “undocumented.” I favor this designation and use it throughout the chapter.</footnote>

<footnote n="2">² The criminalization of US migration dates back to the 1990s when several restrictive and punitive laws were passed in Congress.</footnote>
national migration policies in Western countries since the 1990s has prompted cities to offer sanctuary to vulnerable populations (Bauder 2016).

In this chapter, I do not intend to examine how both the term and the concept travel. Compelling comparative studies by urban geographers (Bauder 2017; Lippert and Rehaag 2013) illustrate the need for a detour into different national contexts to make sense of sanctuary. Drawing on their theoretical and empirical work and on the sizeable body of literature in the field (Bauder 2016, 2017; Bauder and Gonzales 2018; Bauder and Darling 2019; Darling 2017; Ridgley 2008; Lippert and Rehaag 2013; Varsanyi 2006; Lasch et al. 2018), I intend to unpack the concept to demonstrate how US sanctuary cities produce new forms of urban citizenship to undocumented migrants, thus contributing to the debate on sanctuary and the need to conceptualize it. As I examine some of these policies and practices, I will introduce the concept of cosmopolitanism to discuss migrants’ acts of citizenship.

## 11.2 Sanctuary Cities Foster Urban Citizenship

What are sanctuary cities offering that has garnered so much attention? In European countries, in the UK for example, sanctuary supports a culture of welcoming asylum seekers and refugees based on “ideals of responsibility and hospitality” (Darling 2010, 2017; Squire 2011). In North America, sanctuary tends to focus on municipal policing practices aiming at protecting illegalized/undocumented migrants, and one of its rationales is to promote diversity and inclusiveness (Lasch et al. 2018).<fnref n="1" /> Unsurprisingly, sanctuary initiatives fuel the animosity of the current US president who has long used a nationalistic rhetoric that further criminalizes immigration.<fnref n="2" />

How does a city receive sanctuary status? There are different types of procedures. One consists in implementing policies for public safety and immigration enforcement; another, in creating municipal identification cards. Such policies may be enacted in small or large cities, they may vary in form and content, some being more proactive than others (and in a few cases, they may not even be labeled as part of a strategy to make the city a “sanctuary”). Typically, cities enact policies of non-cooperation with the federal agency in charge of immigration enforcement (ICE). Such policies, referred to as DADTs – *Don’t ask, Don’t tell* – enable all residents to access city services without revealing their legal status.

Scholars agree that legislating for access to municipal services regardless of status and protecting residents by refusing to cooperate with immigration authorities constitutes a form of urban citizenship (Ridgley 2008; Darling 2017). But this form of citizenship does not necessarily come with inscribed rights for unauthorized

<footnote n="1">¹ Bauder refers to migrants without immigration status as “illegalized,” focusing on the responsibility of national authorities in the production of illegalization. The scholarly literature in the field often uses the term “undocumented.” I favor this designation and use it throughout the chapter.</footnote>

<footnote n="2">² The criminalization of US migration dates back to the 1990s when several restrictive and punitive laws were passed in Congress.</footnote>
migrants (Varsanyi 2006). Rather, the ordinances enacted by cities can be seen as
“means to maintain informality.”<fnref n="3" />

Because they are both protective and inclusive, sanctuary initiatives challenge the criminalization of migrants, somehow disrupting the state’s monopoly over migration policy. Undocumented migrants can still be subjected to deportation orders, and the number of deportations has continued to rise in the Trump era, even in sanctuary cities, which means they do not cancel illegality *per se*; however, by facilitating migrants’ everyday lives, they are supporting alternative visions of citizenship.

City identification cards are a good illustration of how sanctuary policies and practices circumvent the national prerogative to issue membership status by, as Lebuhn puts it, “inventing” local membership (quoted in Bauder and Gonzalez 2018). Global cities like New York, as well as smaller cities like New Haven, Connecticut, have issued local identification cards that can be obtained through proving residency.<fnref n="4" /> These city IDs facilitate opening bank accounts, applying for city programs, enrolling in local schools, etc. While they are designed for all city residents, identification cards clearly address the needs of the undocumented living within the city area.

By affirming their commitment to accommodating migrants who do not possess full federal status, such initiatives are challenging. The power to confer legal citizenship remains in the hands of the federal government, but citizenship encompasses factors that go far beyond legal status, including rights, inclusion and political participation (Torres 2017).

Such programs explicitly put forward the inclusionary impact on all city residents, whether migrants or not. The case of the New York city ID program (IDNYC), introduced by Mayor Bill de Blasio in 2014, is interesting for that matter. With its campaign including language access programs, a city council allocation towards DACA outreach and the municipal identification program, the Mayor’s Office of Immigrant Affairs intends to facilitate inclusion for undocumented residents. While it may be argued that the weakness of the campaign lies in its lack of leverage to legalize this population, it is nevertheless admitted that the campaign has developed a relatively stable social life for undocumented residents “showing evidence of certain spaces of inclusion outside of formal national citizenship” (Ruszczyk 2018, 6).

Besides, a 2016 survey conducted by the city showed that many non-migrants have adopted the ID card in support of the program, expressing a desire to show solidarity with other residents.<fnref n="5" /> This can be explained in part by the traditional

<footnote n="3">³See Darling (2017) for a detailed discussion of informality and presence in the city.</footnote>

<footnote n="4">⁴Municipal ID cards for undocumented immigrants were first created in San Francisco in 2009; the measure was later adopted in NYC and Los Angeles, among other cities.</footnote>

<footnote n="5">⁵The New York Mayors’ Office for Immigrant Affairs publicizes its IDNYC as “the largest municipal ID program in the country.” Its objective is to make it “as effective and inclusive as possible.” IDNYC benefits every New York City community, including the most vulnerable communities, such as undocumented immigrants, the homeless, youth, the elderly, formerly incarcerated individuals and others who have difficulty obtaining a government-issued ID” (see https://www1.nyc.</footnote>
migrants (Varsanyi 2006). Rather, the ordinances enacted by cities can be seen as
“means to maintain informality.”<fnref n="3" />

Because they are both protective and inclusive, sanctuary initiatives challenge the criminalization of migrants, somehow disrupting the state’s monopoly over migration policy. Undocumented migrants can still be subjected to deportation orders, and the number of deportations has continued to rise in the Trump era, even in sanctuary cities, which means they do not cancel illegality *per se*; however, by facilitating migrants’ everyday lives, they are supporting alternative visions of citizenship.

City identification cards are a good illustration of how sanctuary policies and practices circumvent the national prerogative to issue membership status by, as Lebuhn puts it, “inventing” local membership (quoted in Bauder and Gonzalez 2018). Global cities like New York, as well as smaller cities like New Haven, Connecticut, have issued local identification cards that can be obtained through proving residency.<fnref n="4" /> These city IDs facilitate opening bank accounts, applying for city programs, enrolling in local schools, etc. While they are designed for all city residents, identification cards clearly address the needs of the undocumented living within the city area.

By affirming their commitment to accommodating migrants who do not possess full federal status, such initiatives are challenging. The power to confer legal citizenship remains in the hands of the federal government, but citizenship encompasses factors that go far beyond legal status, including rights, inclusion and political participation (Torres 2017).

Such programs explicitly put forward the inclusionary impact on all city residents, whether migrants or not. The case of the New York city ID program (IDNYC), introduced by Mayor Bill de Blasio in 2014, is interesting for that matter. With its campaign including language access programs, a city council allocation towards DACA outreach and the municipal identification program, the Mayor’s Office of Immigrant Affairs intends to facilitate inclusion for undocumented residents. While it may be argued that the weakness of the campaign lies in its lack of leverage to legalize this population, it is nevertheless admitted that the campaign has developed a relatively stable social life for undocumented residents “showing evidence of certain spaces of inclusion outside of formal national citizenship” (Ruszczyk 2018, 6).

Besides, a 2016 survey conducted by the city showed that many non-migrants have adopted the ID card in support of the program, expressing a desire to show solidarity with other residents.<fnref n="5" /> This can be explained in part by the traditional

<footnote n="3">³See Darling (2017) for a detailed discussion of informality and presence in the city.</footnote>

<footnote n="4">⁴Municipal ID cards for undocumented immigrants were first created in San Francisco in 2009; the measure was later adopted in NYC and Los Angeles, among other cities.</footnote>

<footnote n="5">⁵The New York Mayors’ Office for Immigrant Affairs publicizes its IDNYC as “the largest municipal ID program in the country.” Its objective is to make it “as effective and inclusive as possible.” IDNYC benefits every New York City community, including the most vulnerable communities, such as undocumented immigrants, the homeless, youth, the elderly, formerly incarcerated individuals and others who have difficulty obtaining a government-issued ID” (see https://www1.nyc.</footnote>
public support of immigrants in New York city. It can also be explained by the mes-
sage of generalized urban inclusion contained in the message sent by resident cards
programs.

In her study of sanctuary as a process in the US (2019), Serin Houston demon-
strates how the motivations of sanctuary in San Francisco and Richmond,
California – based on assumptions that reduced crime, greater access to services and
resources and the positive benefits of legitimate personal identification are good for
all residents – show such policies are not only about noncitizens. The process does
not just include the benefits of a municipal ID, she explains. It also reveals how
sanctuary “exceeds a mere locality designation,” positively influencing everyday
encounters for and between residents.

Scholars agree to say that sanctuary is transforming urban society and claim that
sanctuary initiatives are changing the discourse of migration and belonging, by rei-
imagining the city as an inclusive space. In this way, sanctuary cities are reframing
the meaning of belonging and membership at the urban, rather than national, scale.
In the UK, sanctuary cities do not focus so much on policing or non-cooperation
with national authorities but they do send an important symbolic message concern-
ing the inclusion of refugees in particular (Bauder 2018). Whether they are more
action-oriented, as in the US, or more discourse-oriented, as in the UK, these cities
change the imagination of the city as a place of welcome and in so doing, they shape
the manner in which residents interact with each other (Darling 2010; Darling and
Squire 2013; Squire and Bagelman 2012).<fnref n="6" />

Sanctuary policies do not only promote the social inclusion of unauthorized
migrants. They also increase the opportunities of daily interactions and foster urban
sociabilities as the following discussion on migrant activism highlights it.

11.3 Undocumented Migrant Activism

Since the turn of the century, urban theorists have consistently presented cities as
pivotal sites with an insurgent potential, offering possibilities for protest.
Geographers in particular have come to understand the city as a space where the
substance of citizenship is given form, as mentioned earlier (Ridgley 2008; Sassen
2005; Isin 2002; Robinson 2002). Therefore cities, with their “activist” potential,
are places where migrants engage in protest practices of citizenship. Some scholars

<footnote>gov/site/immigrants/index.page). IDNYC can be presented as proof of identification for interac-
tion with the police and is an accepted form of ID for opening a bank account at select financial
institutions. It is currently held by 1.3 million people (1 in 8 of the population) and has been taken
up by about half a million undocumented migrants. See European Council Policy Brief, *Urban
Citizenship and Undocumented Migration*, February 2019, and www1.nyc.gov/site/idnyc/about/
about.page</footnote>

<footnote n="6">⁶See Bauder (2018) for a detailed analysis of the aspects that define sanctuary in the US, Canada and the UK.</footnote>
public support of immigrants in New York city. It can also be explained by the mes-
sage of generalized urban inclusion contained in the message sent by resident cards
programs.

In her study of sanctuary as a process in the US (2019), Serin Houston demon-
strates how the motivations of sanctuary in San Francisco and Richmond,
California – based on assumptions that reduced crime, greater access to services and
resources and the positive benefits of legitimate personal identification are good for
all residents – show such policies are not only about noncitizens. The process does
not just include the benefits of a municipal ID, she explains. It also reveals how
sanctuary “exceeds a mere locality designation,” positively influencing everyday
encounters for and between residents.

Scholars agree to say that sanctuary is transforming urban society and claim that sanctuary initiatives are changing the discourse of migration and belonging, by reimagining the city as an inclusive space. In this way, sanctuary cities are reframing the meaning of belonging and membership at the urban, rather than national, scale. In the UK, sanctuary cities do not focus so much on policing or non-cooperation with national authorities but they do send an important symbolic message concerning the inclusion of refugees in particular (Bauder 2018). Whether they are more action-oriented, as in the US, or more discourse-oriented, as in the UK, these cities change the imagination of the city as a place of welcome and in so doing, they shape the manner in which residents interact with each other (Darling 2010; Darling and Squire 2013; Squire and Bagelman 2012).<fnref n="6" />

Sanctuary policies do not only promote the social inclusion of unauthorized
migrants. They also increase the opportunities of daily interactions and foster urban
sociabilities as the following discussion on migrant activism highlights it.

11.3 Undocumented Migrant Activism

Since the turn of the century, urban theorists have consistently presented cities as
pivotal sites with an insurgent potential, offering possibilities for protest.
Geographers in particular have come to understand the city as a space where the
substance of citizenship is given form, as mentioned earlier (Ridgley 2008; Sassen
2005; Isin 2002; Robinson 2002). Therefore cities, with their “activist” potential,
are places where migrants engage in protest practices of citizenship. Some scholars

<footnote>gov/site/immigrants/index.page). IDNYC can be presented as proof of identification for interac-
tion with the police and is an accepted form of ID for opening a bank account at select financial
institutions. It is currently held by 1.3 million people (1 in 8 of the population) and has been taken
up by about half a million undocumented migrants. See European Council Policy Brief, *Urban
Citizenship and Undocumented Migration*, February 2019, and www1.nyc.gov/site/idnyc/about/
about.page</footnote>

<footnote n="6">⁶See Bauder (2018) for a detailed analysis of the aspects that define sanctuary in the US, Canada and the UK.</footnote>