The French Visa Process Proves To Be Unequal for Sciences Pistes

The blue of the Mediterranean peeking out of the classroom window, the strong yet nurturing smell of lemonade and kebabs, and the endless stairs unite the diverse students from Sciences Po. In the buzz of “where are you from?” and “where do you live?” since Integration Week, there is only one question left unanswered in every small talk session: “how did you get here?” On the rare occasion that this question gets explicitly asked, the usual responses range from five-hour train rides to two overnight plane trips. However, modes of transport do not adequately characterize how students really got here: bureaucracy, immigration, and, of course, visas.

From Morocco to the United States, it is known that being an international student requires not only unique academic recognition and unforgettable letters of recommendation but patience and the means to navigate the bureaucracy of French immigration. Students have distinct experiences due to their origins and nationalities in the visa-clinching process. Three 1As from Australia, South Africa and Indonesia have agreed to talk anonymously about their immigration processes.

When I asked the Australian student about their visa process, I heard sighs and saw an expression of distress.

“Basically, I’m a Finnish citizen, so I shouldn’t have needed to get a visa in the first place. However, because my European passport has expired, I had to apply to get a visa in France.”

They submitted their visa application three months before integration week, and their Australian passport was sent away with it. Yet, two weeks before they left for Menton, the visa was nowhere to be found. During these few days of disorder and stress, 300 euros were dedicated exclusively to the visa office.

“I had no choice but to cancel my visa application, so I could at least retrieve back my Australian passport before I leave.” After reacquiring their passport, they crossed the world from Perth, Australia, to Paris, France, to renew their European passport.

“I went through all this trouble to apply for a visa, and I couldn’t even get it at the end.”

This friend and colleague, who went through the grueling Sciences Po admissions process, had an experience that highlights the notoriously unsatisfactory French immigration and bureaucratic processes. Thankfully, they are here now, but undergoing this stressful process and having 300 euros of expenses causes study-abroad-related trauma.

An Indonesian English track 1A had similar horror stories during their visa quest. They forwarded me a four-page document with all the elements required to obtain a French visa. The items ranged from proof of proficiency in the French language to a CV and a motivational letter. On the first page of four, the guiding document warns, “Missing document = incomplete file = high risk of visa refusal and lengthen the visa issuance process.” One WiFi glitch while submitting the visa application or one misinterpretation of the directions in the guide would be practically synonymous with the annulment of your studies at Sciences Po.

On the South African side, the immigration process was less demanding. Our interviewee, an English track 1A, described the privilege of being a South African and a Belgian citizen.

“I was born in Belgium, but I’ve lived in South Africa my whole life, so my identity is enough to get to Europe at any point.”

As our conversation progressed, we reflected upon how the spiraling labyrinth of becoming an international student in France is cut in half by having a European Union-approved document.

Amidst my friend’s many notable reflections on this matter, one direct quote struck me the most: “That’s actually a really big problem because if I only had a South African identity, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

My friend’s comments raised a relevant point about how privilege is not limited solely to economic resources or education. In the French visa process, certain identities are advantaged over others.

Sciences Po’s Menton’s diversity imbues the city with rich stories and unprecedented experiences. Besides undergoing the sciencepiste admissions process and graduating high school with excellence — which is hard enough for a teenager — the French immigration process also needed to be confronted. For some of us, losing the battle with the visa office resulted in a denial letter; this one, not from Sciences Po, but the French government. Hopefully, raising awareness about the disparity among nationalities during the visa process will end this unequal treatment. Only then can the responses to the question “how did you get here?” merely refer to means of transportation.