In 2023, Dutch migration scholar Hein de Haas published How migration really works, which debunks common myths about the subject. The book quickly became a bestseller, but its success did not seem to have any effect on Dutch politics.

In July that year, the coalition government led by Mark Rutte collapsed because of disagreements over asylum policies. Two years later, his successor, Dick Schoof, saw his coalition fall too, after the far-right Party for Freedom (PVV) withdrew from the government. The reason? The coalition partners had failed to back the PVV’s policies aimed at cracking down on asylum. This was despite the fact that the Netherlands’ migration discourse has significantly shifted to the right in recent years.

Migration facts and figures show that there is little new or unusual going on to justify this attention. The Netherlands has been a country of immigration and emigration throughout its history. The arrival of asylum seekers is not a recent phenomenon, and dealing with diversity, including religious diversity, is an essential part of Dutch national identity. Moreover, the Dutch economy needs migration, and the integration process, as official reports show year after year, is progressing smoothly. And compared to other European countries, the Netherlands is average rather than a frontrunner when it comes to immigration or to asylum migration in particular. The percentage of first asylum applications in the Netherlands was about 0.18 per cent of the total population in 2024, compared to 0.66 per cent in Greece, and about 0.28 per cent in Germany and Belgium.

What is the obsession with migration really about, then? And where does it come from? 

The Dutch migration debate is about so much more than just migration. It reveals how society, politics, the media, and the scientific community are grappling with the rapid changes and increasing societal complexity associated with globalisation. In 2024, Prime Minister Schoof argued that there was a need for tougher migration policies because “Dutch people experience a crisis.” The perception of crisis – and the persistent use of crisis language – demonstrates that something is indeed wrong in society. This also manifests itself in “moral panic”, where migration is seen as the cause of a decline in norms and values, Dutch identity, and much more. This panic feeds narratives blaming migration for virtually every problem society experiences: asylum seekers cause the housing crisis, international students undermine the education system, and migrants are primarily responsible for security issues

Rather than being dismissed as simply irrational, this sensation of crisis should be the starting point for understanding the Dutch migration obsession.

Rather than being dismissed as simply irrational, the sensation of crisis should be the starting point for understanding the Dutch migration obsession.

A shift in political culture

Migration is often a polarising issue, and the Netherlands is no exception in this regard. In the Dutch case, however, migration is the core issue of contestation around which national political culture has changed radically. From a consensus-driven culture of pacification – the “consociationalism” theorised by Dutch political scientist Arend Lijphart – the country shifted to a culture of confrontation and “hyper-realism”, where the ability to identify and “label” problems is considered essential.

Migration was already on the political agenda long before this shift took place. But there was broad consensus on the policies to adopt, and a clear understanding that knowledge and expertise should play a central role in designing them.

This started to change with the rise of academic and businessman Pim Fortuyn in Dutch politics between 2000 and 2002. By connecting uncertainty and discontent in society with migration, multiculturalism, and Islam, Fortuyn triggered a new political logic that has only intensified since then. Although he was assassinated in 2002 and his party imploded soon after, the kind of populism Fortuyn introduced to Dutch politics was there to stay, as demonstrated by Geert Wilders’ far-right Party for Freedom (founded in 2006) and Thierry Baudet’s even more extreme Forum for Democracy (established in 2015).

Unlike in other European countries, centrist political forces never implemented a cordon sanitaire against the far right: the Pim Fortuyn List was part of a coalition government between 2002 and 2003, and the Party for Freedom provided external support to a minority government between 2010 and 2012. After a decade in opposition, Wilders’ party became the largest force in parliament and the main player in the Schoof government.

While these parties played a major role in shifting the discourse around migration, their power should not be overestimated. Their strength is, at least in part, due to the weakness of mainstream parties. None of the established political forces had a clear narrative on migration, allowing insecurities about social change to be diverted onto multiculturalism. The social-democratic and green party GroenLinks/PvdA was caught in a “progressive dilemma” between solidarity with migrants and the protection of the Dutch working classes and the welfare state; the liberal VVD was split between (primarily economically driven) liberals and (more culturally driven) conservatives; and the Christian-democratic CDA couldn’t reconcile its championing of religious diversity in general with concerns for the rise of Islam.

These ambivalent attitudes left room for right-wing populist parties to shape public narratives on migration. Even now, parties of the political centre haven’t figured out how and to what extent they should speak up against the highly provocative statements of Wilders and his party. However, the last decades have shown that not countering populist voices doesn’t help to overcome the migration obsession. On the contrary, it has enabled populist parties to focus the political attention entirely on migration and shape the Dutch public mood accordingly.

Migranticising problems

The migration obsession isn’t a product of party politics alone. Migration has become the catalyst of a broader discontent with globalisation.

The Dutch economy is very globally oriented. Its companies attract labour migrants, including “knowledge migrants”, but they also affect the countries of origin of many migrants through their impact on global inequalities, climate change, culture, and politics. Economic globalisation is therefore a major driver of social change. However, when discussing issues connected to housing, education, climate, and culture, migration is often framed as a cause rather than a consequence.

Migration has become the catalyst of a broader discontent with globalisation.

The housing crisis is a prime example of this “migranticisation”. The Netherlands has a vast housing shortage of approximately 400,000 homes, of which only a small fraction (about 50,000) would be needed for settling refugees. Yet the public debate consistently blames this shortage on asylum seekers rather than on the country’s neoliberal housing policies.

Similarly, knowledge workers and other labour migrants are held responsible for “stealing” jobs, while a broader debate is missing on how and why the Dutch economy has a structural demand for labour migration. The Dutch desire to have a strong, globally competitive economy is not accompanied by an honest conversation on the amount of migration that this economy needs. In this sense, the migration obsession is a form of “redirected behaviour” – the venting of frustration about one problem on another.

The role of statistics

This dynamic is also fuelled by how being a “migrant” (even a “second-generation migrant”, who has never migrated) or going through a process of “integration” tends to be objectified by government-compiled statistics. Few countries collect as extensive ethnic data and migration statistics as the Netherlands. For each migrant group, Statistics Netherlands (CBS) and the Netherlands Institute for Social Research (SCP) collect information on everything from influx to labour force participation and crime rate.

This information, like any type of data, contributes to identifying differences, whether negative or positive. The availability of this data enables a media logic that tends to focus on bad rather than good news. For example, crime rates will find more space in media discourse than labour market participation and contribution to the economy.

Furthermore, the media’s use of this data tends to ignore that socio-economic variables matter much more to successful “integration” than ethnic background and nationality. For example, the Netherlands Scientific Council for Government Policy showed that the crime rate among asylum seekers was actually lower than the national average when their demographic profile (age, gender) and socio-economic profile (education, language, income) were taken into account.

Yet the Netherlands has a long political and media tradition of shaping policies and public discourses on nationality and ethnicity data. While this approach can be driven by a desire for informed and evidence-based debate, it has contributed to fuelling the migration obsession.

The media effect

Aside from its use of ethnicity statistics, the media feeds the obsession in ways that are not unique to the Dutch context. Like other countries, the Netherlands has experienced over the past decades a diversification and commercialisation of its media landscape, with different channels having to fiercely compete for attention. The rise of social media has also played into the politics of attention and created echo-chambers, undermining the “control function” of media in a democratic context. As a result, the (online) media have replaced parliament as the main arena of political debate. Geert Wilders’ savvy use of X is just one example of this.

Migration perfectly suits the dynamics of the attention economy. To elicit emotions and reactions, media coverage on migration employs a combination of dramatic crisis language, exciting stories about what is wrong with current policy and what could still go wrong, stories about authorities’ failures to control flows, and reports on incidents that are blown out of proportion or “migranticised”. Social media then adds a tunnel or echo effect, whereby people’s suspicions and feelings are repeatedly reinforced.

The migration obsession thrives on the interplay between media and politics. Politics seeks to “name” a sense of crisis surrounding migration, the media shapes this feeling, and social discontent grows as a result. Readers of leading conservative newspapers like De Telegraaf and those who spend a lot of time on social media are constantly bombarded with highly “migranticised” news coverage, actively amplified by politicians. In this context, it is hardly surprising that citizens become concerned with migration.

Finally, the migration debate in the Netherlands is largely about migrants rather than with them. The lack of a counterpoint distinguishes the discussion on migration from that on other policy areas, such as farming and agriculture, where opposing perspectives are regularly granted space and attention. This means that the migration obsession can go unchecked; it can roam freely.

The poison and the cure

The migration obsession has very real effects on Dutch society. It contributes significantly to the alienation of a growing part of the population – especially people with a migration background. A 2024 study from the Social and Cultural Planning Office found signs of growing apathy amongst part of the population, triggered by the exclusionist tendencies of the debate on migration.

But there are broader consequences too. The obsession undermines the quality of policy and policymaking in the area of migration and diversity. The constant pressure, politicisation, and migranticisation create an imbalance between inflating problems on the one hand and the inability to come up with workable solutions on the other. This is manifest in the area of asylum in particular, where chaos is not a product of unmanageable migration flow but rather of bad policies, underresourcing, and suspicion towards implementing agencies. There is no asylum crisis but an asylum chaos: solving it demands better, not stricter policy.

There is no asylum crisis but an asylum chaos: solving it demands better, not stricter policy.

Inflating migration issues as a strategy of distraction also harms trust in government and democratic institutions. Today, only four per cent of Dutch citizens declare that they trust the government. The politics of fear around migration, as well as unmet expectations that the government would be able to “fix” migration and integration, has contributed to declining trust levels. In this sense, the migration obsession is a key element of a vicious circle that undermines democracy.

Overcoming the migration obsession demands more than just hope that populist and radical-right parties are voted out of power. It requires that all political parties tell a clear and honest story about migration, and why the Netherlands needs so much of it. Rather than obsessing over migration as a symptom, this story should focus on its structural roots, and open a debate on the model and direction of the Dutch economy.

Greater sensitivity and reflexivity on the part of the media are also needed to deconstruct how “migration language” is used and broader problems are “migranticised”. This does not mean there should be no debate on migration, but rather proves that we need a discourse of better quality, with much greater precision and honesty. The general public also has a responsibility to demand and foster a healthier discussion. Blaming it all on the populists is way too easy.