Bulgaria: a Country Without a Nation

Somewhere, deep in the embrace of the glowing Rhodope mountains, lies a village. Or at least, there remains a cluster of abandoned houses and dry dirt paths from a village long gone. Peshtera (meaning cave) is just one of the countless ghost villages scattered across Bulgaria. The paint has flaked off of its crumbling buildings, its streets are almost permanently deserted, and its last inhabitant passed away in 2012. Like many other ghost villages, Peshtera was once home to a thriving, tight-knit community. And also like the other ghost villages, its potential seemingly vanished overnight, along with its population. But what caused these villages to fall apart so tragically? How is Bulgaria facing this epidemic of disappearing communities? And most importantly, how can the country survive without a people of its own?

The Economic Lens

To the dismay of many optimists on the issue, Bulgaria’s population has been caught in a downward spiral. The country’s aging population, undermined by increasingly distant families (the product of mass immigration and a lack of willingness to return,) a poor social welfare network, and a fragmented rural mosaic, can’t offer much to the national economy. For that reason, although a large part of the population hides in rural areas, economic productivity is concentrated in a few cities. But even these growing metropolitan areas are struggling. Take Bulgaria’s coastal regions near the Black Sea, typically praised for their blossoming tourism, real estate, and maritime transport industries. Local governments there are now in a state of crisis. An ongoing labor shortage is being compounded by the economy’s already seasonal nature. Rising sea levels are prompting concerns about the readiness of local infrastructure and whether more investment is needed. Serious water crises have come and gone. All the while, rising pollution and ecological threats risk scaring away tourists and the valuable economic activity they bring with them. 

The coastal regions’ situation already seems bleak, but the fact is that it’s the entire nation that is feeling financially suffocated. Only the capital city Sofia appears to be headed in a positive direction—being the only city with a growing population and a relatively optimistic economic outlook–yet not without problems of its own. Just like the Black Sea coast, overdevelopment has alarmed local residents. Many have fled out of frustration and thus, Bulgaria’s economic problems have turned into a population crisis. 

Ever since the collapse of the past communist government, emigration rates have been rising rapidly with no sign of slowing down. A look at the economy will immediately reveal why. When rural areas have been stripped of any productive potential and “rising” metropolises are being so poorly sustained, there’s little reason for the financially ambitious folks to stay. This has continued to fuel a nearly three-decade-long exodus and is the primary driver for the current population decline. Long story short: without support, the old are dying in their villages. Without opportunities, the young are leaving them behind.

Sorting Through Solutions

Through it all, Bulgarian policymakers have kept trying to find a way to reverse these trends. After all, a growing population fuels the economy and the chance for international recognition, something invaluable to this tucked-away Eastern European country. 

The main demographic strategy has been to attack the issue on all fronts. Goals include improving the quality of conditions for child-rearing, creating better support systems for the elderly, opening up opportunities for the disadvantaged, and forming a more equal distribution of the population. Yet as well-meaning as this vision is, it has undoubtedly fallen short. Decades of “new” strategies and their poor implementation have prevented Bulgaria from breaking out of its state of demographic crisis. This cycle of policy disasters still hasn’t stopped. 

The current plan has all of the right goals but none of the right approaches. It’s emphasizing subsidies and tax/family leave benefits, which have repeatedly proven ineffective. Its goal to uplift the aging population is also admirable, but without taking down the entrenched bureaucracy in the healthcare sector and making some other societal reforms, it’s an impossible task. All of these pitfalls are adding up. Bulgaria is stuck with the fastest projected population decline–not just in Europe, but worldwide. Worse, policies like these are still sucking the national budget dry.

Policymakers are confused, but much of their frustration comes from a place of ignorance and  stubbornness. Clearly, this problem needs to be tackled one step at a time. But if the social safety net stays impaired and economic opportunities don’t become attractive enough to stop the exodus of young adults, there can be no hope for the future.

A Call to Action

Critique alone isn’t enough to inspire change. Change requires action on all fronts and from everyone involved, be it the detached Bulgarian families living abroad or the stressed policymakers in the National Assembly building. We have to understand that there is no quick fix, especially for a decades-long struggle. But we must accept our capacity to act, and embrace the hope that collectively, even the smallest efforts can amount to something amazing.

For our elected officials, it’s time to tear down old walls. New policies won’t work until past barriers are gone. Ineffective bureaucracies, widespread inner corruption with no meaningful crackdown effort in sight, unsustainable infrastructure, and inappropriate priorities (i.e. implementing the euro) have got to stop. These aren’t dynamic, new-age issues but instead, constants in the 30 years since Bulgaria has had the privilege of being a democracy. When this systemic reform happens with broad public support, the population crisis will begin to resolve itself. The old barriers will have fallen and your new support systems will finally be accessible.

Next, it’s on us to revive this dwindling sense of national identity. Without a deep-rooted connection to our nation, emigration will keep ramping up. So today, we must rebuild our Bulgarian culture. On a personal level, Bulgarians should rekindle ties with fellow Bulgarians and, if living abroad, stay connected with loved ones still in the country. Bulgarian music, television, and literature — all of these are gateways back home, as well. Fostering these seemingly small connections is how we get to the greater concept of cultural unity. It’s how we become one people, one nation under the idea of what it means to be Bulgarian. And naturally, with more connections come more special relationships. More chances at friendship, romance, human understanding, and shared connections. This way, when we reframe the population crisis as a relationship deficiency, forming a united national identity is our best bet on how to solve it.

Decades into the future, villages like Peshtera will likely remain just as deserted and lonely as they are today. It isn’t a pessimistic thought; it’s merely an acknowledgment of how stories like these go. But that certainly isn’t how such stories will end. Somewhere along the way, as Bulgaria develops and grows even in the absence of its ghost villages, there will be a click. A rapid, unforeseen shift in how these places are valued. Remembered not as villages, but as communities.

So let’s value Bulgaria for what it truly is. Not just a country. But a population. A community of six million fighters One united nation.