Outside No 431, rue de Lyon, the Mediterranean sun beat down on the pavement and an old man lay in wait for the police. Inside, behind the long grass and a dilapidated green gate, the women were preparing themselves for the worst. "We are getting things ready," one explained, pointing at a half-packed suitcase. In among the ramshackle sheds and squealing toddlers, they took turns at holding a six-week-old baby in their arms.

Today, as the French government pushed forward with its mission to rid the country of foreign Roma it deems to be living there illegally, Marseille's most marginalised community was in the grip of both fear and resignation: fear because the authorities have in recent weeks ratcheted up the pressure, and resignation because, after years of repeated expulsions and unrelenting social isolation, many of them have seen it all before.

"That's France for you," said one middle-aged woman, sitting dejectedly in pink flip-flops at the rue de Lyon squat. She, like all other Roma to whom the Guardian spoke, was unwilling to be identified. Intense media interest since the start of Nicolas Sarkozy's crackdown on crime and illegal immigration last month has made them uneasy in front of the cameras.

Known as the melting pot of the south, Marseille is home to a large proportion – possibly up to a fifth – of France's total Roma population, itself estimated at between 15,000 and 20,000. Despite its reputation for successful integration, however, the city's Roma, as in so much of Europe, live apart from mainstream society. Observers say routine expulsions and endemic discrimination have pushed them to the outer limits, both physically and psychologically.

But in recent weeks, ever since Sarkozy announced the imminent destruction of hundreds of squats and the return of Romanians and Bulgarian citizens living in France illegally, the situation has worsened. Police are making ever more regular visits. Across the country, dozens of illegal Roma camps have been broken up, and today, as part of the government's "voluntary" return programme, nearly 100 Roma flew home to Bucharest with €300 per adult and €100 per child in their pockets.

Left in social limbo



For NGO workers in Marseille, the latest crackdown comes as no surprise. They, and leftwing opposition members, believe the government's very public stance on the Roma is fuelled largely by a desire to appeal to the populist vote. "It is a perfectly demagogic tactic … No one is taken in. These are measures aimed at seducing the far right. But at root it fixes nothing," said Philippe Rodier of Médecins du Monde (MDM).

Even a quick glance at the facts of Roma life in Marseille and elsewhere in France shows there is an awful lot to fix. According to Rodier, the city's estimated 2,000-3,000 Roma are often found to be living in the kind of sanitary conditions seen in "the worst refugee camps or in the third world".

Life expectancy is estimated by MDM to be around 20 years lower than the Roma's French counterparts. For children, ensuring education is difficult – one study found that in the school year of 2008/09, only 50 of an estimated 600 Roma children in Marseille were registered in class. For adults, restricted in their professional activities by red tape, securing a proper job is even harder.

Critics say that all these factors add up to a situation in which the Roma, who often left their native countries to escape discrimination, are kept in social limbo. Local authorities in Marseille deny accusations that they do not do enough, stressing their efforts to provide healthcare and a project – applauded by local NGOs – designed to help 10 families considered able and willing to integrate. However, Christophe Reynaud, the official at the Marseille prefecture in charge of Roma policy, told the Guardian there was "no question" of expanding it to more people for fear of neglecting other people – both French and legal immigrants – also in social difficulties.

Which leaves people such as the women at rue de Lyon in trouble. "They don't want to rent to me," said one, a mother of two who is keen, like most of her friends, to move into conventional housing but cannot find anyone willing to have her. Both her boy and girl are in school, but she said she was worried about what another expulsion from their home would mean for them.

Even for the lucky few who manage to swim against the tide towards greater integration, chances for real success are few and far between. "I think we Roma don't have the chance to integrate. Quite simply because we can't work," said a 27-year-old Romanian man dressed in a fake designer T-shirt with sunglasses.

Liberty, equality, fraternity?



Although he has lived in Marseille since he was child, he still has no papers, and cannot get a job. "This discrimination will not go away. France has become the opposite of liberty, equality and fraternity," he said. Asked about any friends and acquaintances among the 1040 people to have gone home "voluntarily" from Marseille to their native countries since January last year, he said he doubted they would have gone happily. "Even in Romania you had discrimination," he remembered. "No one wants us. There is no place for us. Not in Romania, and not in France."

One family in another Marseille squat was yesterday biding its time before they found sufficient funds to leave the country. Visibly agitated, a man in a flat cap told NGO workers he had no money to feed his heavily pregnant wife and their children, let alone afford the bus ride home. He had not been told about the government's flights, he said. Once he got back to Romania, he added, he would probably come back "after two or three months".

Activists point out that this is a huge flaw in Sarkozy's plan: after three months, citizens of the two newest EU states can be expelled from France for failing to have "sufficient resources" with which to support themselves. But once they have left, they can return at any point.

For those most affected by the policies, there is little reason to laugh at this apparent absurdity. As they held one-and-a-half month old Tabitha in their arms and waited for the knock at the door, the inhabitants of rue de Lyon spoke despondently of their adopted country. "They are trying to get rid of us all," said one woman, heavily pregnant, and fearful for the future.

• This article was amended on 20 and 23 August 2010. The original headline stated that France begins Roma deportation. This has been corrected. The text referred to nearly 1040 Roma flying home to Bucharest. To be clear: nearly 100 Roma flew back to Bucharest on 19 August, 1040 since January 2009.