Parisians are already grumbling to the world about this summer’s Olympics. They envision sweaty tourists jamming subway cars, making the hell of commuting even more, well, hell. They are planning their summer getaways. at worst a “télétravail” program to work from home.
But not Ivan Buyukokakm. Glancing at a corner known for drug dealing near his family’s kebab stand in the low-income neighborhood just north of Paris, he sees the upcoming Olympics as heralding something entirely different: opportunity.
“They are rebuilding the streets and renovating buildings,” said Mr. Buyukokakm, as a woman in a thin coat pulled a grocery cart toward a dilapidated housing project. “This area is going to improve. Life could get better.”
That’s the hope anyway. French officials have made a big promise for the 2024 Olympics: To use the 4.5 billion euros spent on infrastructure for the games to transform one of the country’s most notorious suburbs, Saint-Saint-Denis.
A dense 90-square-mile department northeast of Paris, it includes 40 small towns and for generations has been synonymous with poverty, immigration and crime. It will now be home to an Olympic Village which, it is hoped, will provide an economic jolt when the games begin in July and lasting revitalization once the athletes retire.
Just above Mr. Buyukokakm’s shop, work is progressing on a 52-acre mega project to transform the former industrial estate into a new high-rise neighborhood that promises to be filled with offices, restaurants and shops. Nearby, a new 5,000-seat Aquatic Center will become a sports hub for locals.
The nearby stock of derelict social housing is being refurbished. New roads, bridges, bike lanes, parks and schools are being added. There is also the promise of jobs and training for local people in an area suffering from persistent unemployment.
Only one question looms over the huge ambition: Will it work?
“The question is how do you turn no-go zones into welcome zones,” said Mathieu Hanotin, the Socialist mayor of St.-Denis, the city that is getting much of the new Olympic infrastructure. “The Games are an incredible opportunity. They will allow us to change our image and also provide housing to improve the social balance of the city.”
The challenges are enormous: unemployment in the region is over 10 percent — and twice that of St.-Denis. Almost a third of the inhabitants of Seine-Saint-Denis live in poverty and the rate of public housing is close to 40%.
Known by its nickname, “le Quatre-Vingt Treize”, or 93 – a riff on its postal code – Seine-Saint-Denis is littered with the corpses of failed government bailouts dating back to the 1970s. Then it was when the region, an industrial hub since the 19th century, lost car and steel factories to cheaper countries, sparking a debilitating downward spiral.
The construction of the Stade de France — the national football stadium — in 1998 marked a turning point, bringing new urban transport and attracting tourists as well as the headquarters of French blue-chip companies. Many government programs focused on improving social housing and education.
None of these were silver bullets.
“Massive infrastructure efforts and visibility may be the right catalyst, but it’s not going to solve all the problems,” said Agnes Audier, author of a report on Seine-Saint-Denis from France’s Institute Montaigne think tank. “Poverty is not going to disappear.”
Companies that moved their headquarters there tended to bring their own white-collar workers, who commuted from Paris. Many residents, meanwhile, are moving in the opposite direction—for lower-income jobs in the heart of Paris.
In 2005, amid persistent neglect, unemployment and police brutality, riots broke out in Saint-Saint-Denis. Part of the government’s plan now includes beefing up security. France’s Interior Ministry, which oversees the national police, says it will move its 2,500 employees from central Paris to new offices in the Olympic Village in 2025 — a move symbolic of those efforts.
Officials say the Olympics are a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to permanently change social dynamics, leaving a lasting legacy of urban and economic renewal. Area mayors are leveraging the Games to solicit and fast-track other investments and build or renovate affordable housing.
“The Olympics are an accelerator,” said Karim Bouamrane, the mayor of St.-Ouen, a small town next to St.-Denis. Among the Olympic gifts it has received is a renovated stadium and part of the Olympic Village, which crosses three municipal borders.
Like several mayors in cities near him, Mr. Bouamrane has taken the international spotlight to call for and expedite much-needed investment.
Tesla recently announced it would move its French headquarters to St.-Ouen, and Mr. Bouamrane has also attracted new colleges, which he hopes will create a social and economic ripple effect.
Mr Bouamrane also used the Games to secure funding for a €500 million renovation of two run-down housing projects in his city. He wants to ensure that the Games improve the lives of many in his city, and not just in parts of it, particularly around the Olympic Village.
From a distance, the village looks like a colorful forest, with about 40 buildings rising at different heights in different hues and designs. After housing 14,500 athletes, its 2,800 new units will be converted by the end of 2025 into permanent housing for up to 6,000 people.
A quarter of these units will be reserved for public housing. About a third will be rented by government agencies as affordable housing to moderate-income workers, as well as students.
The rest will be sold on the open market. But already some are warning that housing will be unaffordable for many.
Cécile Gintrac is a founding member of ‘Olympics 2024 Vigilance’, a watchdog group that has voiced the threat of gentrification. He said units were going for a third more than the section’s average sale price last year. “They could never buy at that price,” he said.
Some charities have accused local authorities of carrying out “social cleansing” operations, removing migrants and homeless people from Olympic venues. The government moved about 3,000 people out of dilapidated buildings and squats and into better accommodation, albeit in towns further afield, according to Antoine de Clerck, co-ordinator for Reverse Side of the Medal, a charity that helps vulnerable people.
Nadia Bey, who lives in a high-rise apartment building just a few blocks away, was skeptical that the Olympic investments would improve her life.
He pointed to other modern high-rises recently built in an even larger eco-development called The Docks, which offered many of the same lofty promises.
“They have a pharmacy, a nice market, doctors’ offices, restaurants,” said Ms Bay, 45, a childcare worker, pushing a trolley outside her compound, where rats scurried on the pavement. “Come here and see our park. See our stores. It’s completely different. We are completely abandoned.”
Although her building was among those to benefit from the renovation, she remained dubious. “We’ll see if it happens,” he said.
None of these concerns dampened the optimism of Henri Specht, director of the Olympic Village. As he walked along a newly installed boardwalk along the Seine River on a recent day, he envisioned how he would transform what had been an industrial bank into a pedestrianized zone where locals could practice the famous Parisian pastime of the flâner—strolling.
“It will completely change the way people live by the Seine,” said Mr Specht, who works for the state-owned Olympic construction company Solideo, which has provided contracts to around 30,000 people working for the games, 6% of these were formerly unemployed. residents of Seine-Saint-Denis.
“We always thought of it as a post-Olympic legacy,” he added. “We wanted to make sure it made sense for the future generations that will live there.”
Shops, restaurants, boulgeries and other small businesses will join the economic activity. Restaurants in old converted barges will be installed along the new Seine promenade.
Chedi Meftah, 40, a primary school sports instructor who lives nearby, looked on with excitement. “Before, people didn’t want to go there. It was considered dangerous,” he said of the riverbank. “Now, we could go for a walk or a jog. That’s one of the thousand advantages of it.”
