It was once the norm for ambitious youngsters in Eastern Europe and the Baltics to plan their departure almost from the moment they enrolled at university.
For Romanians, Serbians, Croatians, Lithuanians, and Estonians alike, faraway hubs promised high salaries and modern office towers, along with the gloss of global business.
But a curious shift is now under way. Instead of continuing to lose their brightest minds in a one-way exodus, countries that were long sources of exported talent are enticing returnees—and in some cases, foreign entrepreneurs—to come and rebuild.
For Romania, this strategy entails coaxing abroad-based engineers and medics to consider a renewed future in Cluj or Bucharest. In Serbia, boisterous tech scenes in Belgrade and Novi Sad lure coders who once found their fortunes in Berlin or San Francisco.
Croatia’s tourism-based economy is making room for start-ups to flourish, even as its pristine beaches continue to draw visitors. Meanwhile, Lithuania and Estonia have pioneered global outreach, promoting easy access to work permits and digital innovation to encourage fresh arrivals as well as diaspora homecomings.
The outcome is a more hopeful vision of regional development, buoyed by professionals who see new potential in places they once felt compelled to leave.
A changing picture
For decades, the structural realities behind emigration were difficult to ignore: low wages, overbearing bureaucracy, limited investment in research and development, and political dysfunction dogged many eastern parts of the continent.
Anyone with an in-demand skill set—be it software engineering, advanced medical training, or financial know-how—was often tempted to try a more dynamic environment abroad. With local economies lagging behind their Western neighbours, the region’s best and brightest decamped to places where salaries soared and career trajectories accelerated.
Parents, politicians, and universities tended to view the exodus as inevitable.
Yet gradually, this picture is changing. Some of those who left have grown restless with expensive housing markets, crowded cities, and complex visa rules in their adopted homes.
Others sense that, despite its challenges, their native country has inched forward in ways unimaginable a couple of decades ago. And crucially, governments across the region have woken up to the idea that diaspora-driven energy can spark new beginnings.
In Romania, where at least three million citizens live abroad, the authorities are busy assembling packages to woo skilled returnees. They appear to be working: in 2023, the country recorded growth in its resident population for the first time in more than two decades.
Online portals encourage emigrant professionals to seek newly created roles in tech and finance, or to tap into government grants for start-ups. Those who come back report a mixture of nostalgia and optimism. Some software developers, after stints at American tech giants, now head local research-and-development departments. Others, armed with knowledge of more efficient hospital systems, enter public healthcare in smaller Romanian cities, trying to modernise practices from the ground up.
Critics point out that any government-led initiative must also tackle deeper issues such as corruption and political meddling, yet incremental improvements suggest that the country is slowly moving in the right direction.
Serbia offers a similar narrative. Its diaspora, since the 1960s, has long been integral to the national economy, regularly sending remittances that shore up household budgets and pay for family expenses.
Lately, though, the model has evolved. Individuals who honed their expertise in Germany or elsewhere are developing software-outsourcing ventures in Belgrade or Novi Sad, spurred by accessible talent and competitive costs.
While they acknowledge that red tape still hinders growth, the promise of shaping a flourishing tech ecosystem—one that looks outward and emulates global standards—tempts them to endure the complexities of Serbian bureaucracy. Success stories abound of returning Serbs who, once frustrated by lacklustre opportunities at home, now speak of forging a dynamic ecosystem that can rival well-established tech hubs.
In Croatia, officials are determined to diminish their reliance on holiday-makers alone. Lured by the sparkling Adriatic, visitors flock to Dubrovnik or Split, but the local authorities want to lay the groundwork for an economy that can thrive year-round.
Offering more flexible visa schemes, the government hopes to attract both Croatians living abroad and foreign digital nomads. Some returnees seize the chance to start fintech ventures or renewable-energy projects. Tax breaks, simplified licensing, and supportive local networks help offset less tangible difficulties such as outdated regulations or social conservatism. It is far from perfect, but as the trickle of successful homecomings grows, so does Croatia’s confidence that it can pivot beyond tourism.
Pitching overseas talent
While these Balkan nations focus on enticing their own diaspora, Lithuania and Estonia have made more sweeping pitches to overseas talent.
Estonia, in particular, has forged a reputation as the digital darling of Europe. Its e-Residency programme, launched in 2014, was designed to let non-Estonians set up and run businesses remotely in an EU jurisdiction.
Others have made the move to Estonia itself, investing locally, gradually sinking deeper roots in Tallinn and Tartu. Crucially, these initiatives have created an environment in which returning Estonians—those who left for Helsinki, London, or Silicon Valley—feel a renewed sense of pride in their homeland’s digital prowess.
Estonia’s brisk administrative systems, commitment to e-governance, and culture of technological experimentation reinforce the idea that one can thrive there without missing out on the perks of a cosmopolitan career.
Lithuania has embraced a parallel path, investing heavily in fintech innovation. Programmes like Work in Lithuania specifically call out to Lithuanians scattered across Europe and North America, emphasising Vilnius’s rising reputation as a fintech and start-up hub.
Spurred by favourable licensing frameworks and a nimble regulatory apparatus, the city has attracted a flurry of foreign enterprises keen to set up EU-based operations. Add to that an eager local workforce, and returning Lithuanians find themselves in an environment full of opportunities for collaboration and growth.
Critics worry that too many perks are directed at newcomers, potentially slighting domestic talent that has laboured under underfunded systems for years. Even so, the injection of capital, expertise, and global connections is widely seen as revitalising a city once associated primarily with quaint old-town charm.
New ideas, new attitudes
A less quantifiable impact of these return migrations is the infusion of new ideas and attitudes. Many returnees, shaped by years in more egalitarian or transparent societies, refuse to accept nepotism or corruption as business as usual.
With greater exposure to international norms, they push for stricter workplace regulations, wage transparency, and socially responsible corporate behaviour. In some corners, this prompts an inevitable backlash from the old guard, wary of such abrupt transformations.
Even so, persistent efforts by well-networked returnees push both the private and public sectors towards more modern practices. Their return also nudges cultural expectations: male-dominated workplaces now face louder demands for gender parity; rigid top-down hierarchies soften in the face of younger professionals who demand horizontal collaboration.
That is not to say that the path is smooth. Many a hopeful returnee discovers the friction between lofty government slogans and the messy realities on the ground. Tax breaks and housing incentives can be ensnared by bureaucratic inefficiencies.
Medicine and law, among other professions, often require labyrinthine re-accreditation that frustrates even the most enthusiastic returnees. Some balk at schooling challenges for children who have grown up speaking mainly English or German.
Among the Baltic states, even Estonia, lauded for its digital-savvy approach, can feel socially insular; likewise, Lithuania’s policy landscape, though outward-looking in fintech, sometimes lacks the scale and vibrancy of bigger capitals.
Observers worry, too, that the emphasis on diaspora programmes could breed resentment among those who never left. Why should a medical specialist who spent 15 years abroad be handsomely rewarded for coming back, when colleagues who stayed behind endured lower wages and slower career progression?
The dilemma lies in crafting a fair distribution of resources while still using tailored incentives to attract star performers. In the end, such questions reflect deeper governance issues that have historically marred local politics.
A genuine renaissance
Caveats aside, the overall momentum hints at a genuine renaissance. Each success story stokes more interest, building a critical mass of returnees who share not only business opportunities but also intangible morale boosts.
A software firm in Bucharest that clinches a major international contract emboldens a tech whizz in London to pack up and return. Estonian e-Residents who found frictionless incorporation might convince other global entrepreneurs to think about relocating to Tallinn. In short, a region once pigeonholed as a pool of cheap labour is discovering the magnetism of its own initiative and creativity.
Of course, the old habit of emigrating in search of better prospects will not vanish overnight. Deep-seated issues—from corruption to uneven healthcare—still push people to try their luck in more established settings.
Yet the idea that development is a one-way street, with talent constantly seeping away, is no longer set in stone. Instead, a more hopeful scenario emerges: Romanians, Serbs, Croatians, Lithuanians, and Estonians, along with foreign adventurers, are building globalised lives in places that once seemed hopelessly peripheral.
If the region’s governments continue to refine their policies and tackle endemic challenges, this ‘great reversal’ could prove far from a passing trend. It might just herald the kind of vibrant, future-focused transformation that only genuine believers—whether returning citizens or new arrivals—can achieve.
Photo by Voicu Horațiu on Unsplash.
