Never before have so many people lived and laboured outside the borders of their homelands than do today in our intensely globalised world. Nor has so much money flowed from migrant diasporas to their loved ones back home: over $534 billion (almost Dh2 trillion) in 2012 alone, according to the World Bank.
In developing nations, remittances are crucial assets, tallying over three times the amount provided by official development assistance. In distraught countries such as Haiti, Lesotho, Samoa, and Moldova, remittances constitute between a fifth and - in the case of Tajikistan - nearly half of their GDPs. Remittance totals are growing fast in the Mena region, with Egypt, Lebanon, Morocco, Jordan and Tunisia out in front. These monies contribute mightily to balancing lopsided current accounts and stimulating domestic demand, to say nothing about keeping families out of poverty's reach.
The way that transnational workers and their earnings are thought about has come a long way since the days when threadbare gastarbeiter from Italy, Greece, and Spain flocked to northern Europe to man the assembly lines in the booming postwar factories. Europe's guest workers were considered temporary manual labourers who'd work the low-paid jobs that the Germans didn't want to - and then return home.
What they did with their Deutschmarks didn't concern anybody but them. For the most part, the funds they sent back went towards the basics: food, health care, and bricks and mortar for new houses. Then came the white goods, used cars, and satellite televisions. But this leap forward in terms of living standard barely dented the structures that had kept the "sending-regions" trapped in poverty for generations. "Modernisation without development" was the catchphrase that experts devised for the phenomenon of regions so addicted to the remittances from overseas workers that they stop trying to better their situations on their own. Generation after generation of brain drain bled the best and brightest from these places, leaving the grandparents and children behind in the new houses.
The past decade or so has witnessed a veritable revolution in globalised labour flows, as well as a new academic science that seeks to explain their impact and help leverage their benefit for everyone involved. As it turns out, the transnational toing and froing of émigré workers has broad repercussions not only for the economy, but for migrant-sending and receiving societies, politics at home and abroad, and even international affairs. Indeed, most of the gastarbeiter never went home, and countries such as Germany will forever look different because of it. The three million people in Germany with a Turkish background, for example, are a factor in Frau Merkel's deliberations over education, gender, family and other social policies, as well as in Germany's relations with Turkey and the EU. Increasingly, they vote, too.
One person at the forefront of the academic investigations into migrations and remittances is Manuel Orozco, the author of Migrant Remittances and Development in the Global Economy.
Orozco is a Mexican sociologist who has crisscrossed the globe researching transnationalism's peculiarities from Albania to Nigeria, and from the Caucasus to the Philippines. He is considered an expert on the topic, and no study is complete without addressing his many assumptions and prolific findings.
Fortunately though, Migrant Remittances is not a dense, scholarly book, but a primer for those new to the topic. Orozco brings readers up to date on the field and imparts some wise words about the way forward.