Why Europe should avoid modelling its migration policy on Denmark
First published at Rosa-Luxemburg-Stiftung.
Despite being one of the first countries to sign the UN Refugee Convention, Denmark has also been a frequent first-mover on harsh immigration policies in Europe. An increasing number of political parties — not all of them right-wing or nationalist — across Europe point to the “Danish model” as an example of successful migration and asylum policy. Even Sweden — once seen as a more humane counterpoint — is now copying Danish policies in detail. In reality, the “Danish model” would not work if copied by other countries, and in Denmark it has led to a socially damaging paradox, which deserves to be better known.
The rise of anti-immigration discourse
To understand this paradox, it is necessary to look at how Denmark’s current asylum and migration policy has developed, whether it is successful, and what its implications are. For more than 20 years, Danish media and political parties have directed a strong and unrelenting focus on refugees and immigration, which is out of proportion given the very low numbers of refugees. The first radical steps by way of restrictions and limiting rights were taken by a centre-right government in 2001 and have been followed up by hundreds of changes of the Alien Act, most of them with the express purpose of making Denmark less attractive to asylum seekers. In 2017, Integration Minister Inger Støjberg (now the leader of a new radical right-wing party, the Denmark Democrats) drew criticism for a social media post in which she posed with a cake to celebrate her 50th law change restricting immigration since 2015.
A key reason for Denmark’s increasingly hostile approach is the influential position, which the far-right nationalist Danish People’s Party (DPP) has held under changing governments since it was formed in 1995. Although it has never been officially part of any government, the DPP has successfully exploited its popular support (at one point reaching 25 percent), bargaining cleverly and making provocative statements that have helped it spread racist narratives in the mainstream media. This strategy has also been aided by the fact that Danish courts tend to rank freedom of speech far higher than the protection of minorities from hate speech.
Social Democrats: Successful on an anti-immigration ticket
As the DPP grew, Denmark’s Social Democrats started to lose many voters to its populist and nationalist rhetoric. Instead of arguing against the inhumane and populist ideas, however, the Social Democrats decided to copy DPP policies in an attempt to reduce their influence and win back white working-class voters. This began as a tactic — and one that was subject to many heated internal discussions in a party that prides itself of having built modern Denmark on principles of solidarity and human rights. But as the hardliners won those fights, the radical extreme right and chauvinist views behind these policies gradually became mainstream across the political spectrum.
While the left-wing parties have fought a somewhat half-hearted battle against this shift, their support is far from enough to threaten the political balance, and the issue was not crucial to their political strategy. Today, in Denmark, it makes little sense to talk about right and left when it comes to immigration — the dividing line is now between nationalist parties (where you will also find the Social Democrats), and more globally-oriented parties, such as the social liberal party Radikale.
The proclaimed goal: Zero asylum seekers in Denmark
Already back in 2019, the Social Democrats presented their proposal for an offshore asylum processing scheme that is getting so much attention these days. They framed it as a “humane alternative” in response to the situation that thousands of refugees find themselves in, namely being forced to embark on highly dangerous and traumatising journeys putting themselves at the mercy of human smugglers. It suggested deporting all asylum seekers arriving in Denmark to Rwanda, where their asylum cases would be processed and where, if granted asylum, they would then stay. While this plan has been put on hold for now, the philosophy behind it remains in effect, with Denmark’s social democratic prime minister Mette Frederiksen openly stating some years ago that her goal was “zero asylum seekers” arriving to Denmark. This against an already low number of asylum seekers coming to Denmark seeing how the country maintains its opt-out of the EU’s common asylum system and even had suspended its UNHCR resettlement programme in 2016-2019. Notably, exemptions from the strict regulations characterising Danish asylum policy apply to refugees from Ukraine.
Domestically, immigrants (especially refugees) are now presented almost entirely as a burden on society, both from an economic and a cultural angle, and human rights conventions are regarded as a straitjacket for discriminating legislation. Examples are legion: A leading Social Democrat recently argued for disregarding rulings from The European Court of Human Rights on expulsions. Another, the Social Democrats’ immigration spokesperson Frederik Vad, started the campaign “The Third Recognition”. The campaign is built around the claim that, even if a person of migrant background appears to be well-integrated into Danish society — with fluent Danish, a Danish education, a flawless criminal record, and even holding a job in public administration – they may still be actively working to “undermine Denmark from within”. This form of racism, mistrust and scapegoating are part and parcel of Denmark’s migration and integration policies, where the other side of the coin of deterrence is total assimilation under the pretext of safeguarding social cohesion.
Creating a hostile environment 1: The “Ghetto Plan”
The Danish parliament has issued many initiatives pushing assimilation in order to “reduce social problems” by force. The most controversial of these — introduced by the centre-right government under Lars Løkke Rasmussen and pushed by the Frederiksen government – is the law originally passed as “The Ghetto Plan”, which is ostensibly aimed at reducing segregation and social problems in certain neighbourhoods, something which residents also agreed was much needed. The plan includes forced displacement, mandatory day care for all children from the age of one, not allowing for family reunification from abroad and doubling sentences for crimes committed in designated areas. It has been strongly criticised by human rights bodies both inside and outside Denmark and is currently the subject of a case at the European Court of Justice court, brought by a group of affected residents with the support from the Danish Institute of Human Rights. The crucial point of the court case and the massive criticism by human rights bodies is one of the criteria for designating an area to the list: besides crime, education and unemployment rates, it is a high percentage of residents coming from a “non-Western” country that determines whether an area is to be considered a “Ghetto”.
The plan, which remains in effect (despite a minor name change), has, however, drawn grudging admiration from other quarters. Earlier this year, the Berlin branch of the German far-right party Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) carried out a fact-finding visit to learn from Denmark’s migration system, with an AfD spokesperson commenting : “Danish social democracy is doing things for which we in Germany would be crucified simply for demanding.”
Creating a hostile environment 2: Barriers to citizenship
Another example of how the Danish idea of total assimilation acts as a barrier to the integration of migrants or their children is the difficult process of obtaining Danish nationality. On average, those succeeding in acquiring it have been residents for 19 years, and the process itself takes at least 2 years. Many people who were born and raised in Denmark will not acquire Danish citizenship until they are in their 20s or even 30s — and even then, the barriers remain difficult to surmount. Besides high language demands, no criminal record, and the requirement of many years of uninterrupted employment (higher education, even on a full scholarship, does not count), applicants must pass a test with 45 questions about Danish history, culture and society, including undefined “Danish values”. The questions change every time, and most of them are irrelevant and only serve as obstacles.
It is hardly surprising then that approximately 10 percent of Denmark’s population (and some 20 percent of the capital, Copenhagen) are not Danish citizens, and consequently do not enjoy full citizenship rights, despite many of them being born in Denmark. This not only excludes many people of migrant background from the democratic process in Denmark, it also allows them to be further “othered” by politicians and the media. In 2020, for example, Social Democratic Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen cited the problem of “immigrant boys” — almost certainly born in Denmark — misbehaving on trains, turning what is, in fact, a social problem into one of race and migration.
Creating a hostile environment 3: A push into precariousness
A third dimension of Denmark’s migration policy is the labour market. The criteria for obtaining a permanent residence permit force people to work full-time even if they would prefer part-time, and it forces them to accept worse terms and conditions, as any period of unemployment will have severe consequences for their future status. Since Denmark intensified its efforts to push refugees into work, we have also seen a rising need for labour. These two factors have resulted in the lowest rate of unemployment ever, mainly powered by immigrants and refugees.
But is this proof that such a strict policy is good, or even successful? Not necessarily. Economic inequality has risen over the same period, and refugees and migrants tend to work in low-paid, unskilled jobs — even if they have an education and considerable work experience from their home country. Many are pushed into gig work and other jobs, without contracts and security. This employment is highly precarious, with workers in these roles tending to be the first to be fired in bad times — for instance during the Covid-19 pandemic. Those who receive benefits are required to work full-time in activation projects and internships, which is often little more than unpaid, forced labour. The government is currently processing a full-time work obligation specifically focused on “women from non-Western backgrounds”, and citing examples such as “picking up cigarette butts or plastic” on the beach.
Creating a hostile environment 4: Welfare discrimination
Labour policy for people of migrant background goes hand in hand with cuts in economic support for newcomers, with the goal to force them out of state support and into employment by accepting any kind of job offer. Since 2010, the rates of unemployment benefits to refugees have been at approximately half of what a native citizen would get. Child support and retirement pension are also lower for those who have not always lived in the country.
Evaluations of these policies show that they tend to push a small part of the male workforce into employment — even for a very low salary, rather than receiving state benefits — but that they have no effect on women. At the same time, they have some very serious negative effects, especially on families and children who are caught in a poverty trap. Children and retired elderly with refugee or migrant background constitute the poorest groups in society as a result. No less than 56 percent of children living in poverty have a non-European background. Research has shown that the economic outcome of the reduced benefits for refugees is negative for society on a long term, as growing up in poverty makes it more likely for children not to take up an education, to be more susceptible to sliding into criminality and drug abuse, and to suffer from mental health issues.
Successful integration after all?
Despite the strict and sometimes directly discriminating rules that refugees are confronted with in Denmark, formal and measurable signs of integration (such as having a job, speaking the Danish language and completing an education) have actually been increasing. Since the 1990s, the official Danish integration programme for refugees has been handled by local municipalities and (mainly state funded) civil society organisations. Employment rates have gone up and the employment gap between native Danes and immigrants has decreased. Crime rates have dropped more for men with an ethnic minority background than for the majority of the population. Young women whose parents came as refugees tend to achieve a higher education level than their peers with Danish parents. NGOs have built an efficient national net, so that all newcomers are offered a local “friend”, volunteering to support and help.
Rather than Denmark’s strict immigration policy helping drive these improvements in integration, however, the opposite may be the case. Danish policies have never acknowledged that “integration” is a two-way process. Yet successful integration is a long-term prospect: to build a new life and adjust to the local ways in a new country normally takes years, even decades. Denmark’s deterrence policy took some of its most radical steps in 2015, and again in 2019 with the so-called “paradigm shift”, and we are only starting to see how those steps have impacted integration and social cohesion. Recent research as well as my personal daily encounters reveal how refugees, including children, are now living in constant fear and worry about their future — facing a risk of losing their residence permit any day, even after many years of living in the country. This has a massive negative effect on their mental health and abilities to learn.
Schrödinger’s foreigner
Maybe you have noticed the paradox by now: on the one hand, Danish government policies focus on deterrence, temporary stays and returns. On the other hand, they urge refugees and migrants to become self-sufficient, learn the language and assimilate as much as possible. In Denmark, Schrödinger’s foreigner is simultaneously an (often unwelcome) guest on a short, temporary visit, yet must also become totally like the Danes.
If you set difficult criteria, the most resourceful people will struggle hard and succeed in meeting them — but the least resourceful will give up, or not even try at all. You will also create a hostility towards society from both groups: those who have succeeded and done everything that was expected of them, but still feel like second-rate citizens; and those who fail to meet the criteria, no matter how hard they try. People living in Denmark with an ethnic minority background report feeling increasingly frustrated. They feel unwanted and excluded by the majority, and they see clearly the different set of rules that applies to them. Human beings generally respond better to positive incitements than to coercion.
Danish policy is based on a message of deterrence — “ Don’t come to Denmark, go to any other country where you will be more welcome and where your chances will be better” — and from that point of view, government policies have been successful. Measured by arrival of asylum seekers per capita, Denmark has dropped to no. 24 out of the 27 EU states, and since 2016, only a few thousand have applied for asylum each year, and around one third of those already had another residence permit. Since 2020, more refugees have left the country than arrived, in part due to a rising number of migrants accepting the Danish state’s offer of a generous amount of money to return to their home country: 20,700 euro per adult plus various expenses and sometimes a lifelong pension. This includes many with a permanent residence permit or even Danish citizenship.
Searching for the secret of “The Danish Model”
The harsh Danish policies created headlines and shock ten years ago, accusing the country of ignoring human rights and international responsibilities. But as most of the restrictions passed without any serious consequences, extremely few refugees arrived and the economy grew, many other European countries began looking at Denmark for inspiration. Absurdly enough, Sweden was the first country to copy the toughest Danish policies, after having maintained the image of a humane counterpart for decades. For years, the Conservative Party in the United Kingdom made headlines with its “Rwanda solution”, implementing an offshore asylum system, to be scrapped only at the 11th hour by the new Labour government in 2023. Lately, journalists and politicians have been streaming to Denmark, searching for the secret of “The Danish Model”, with Austrian and German ministers referencing it as a source of inspiration for their own domestic policies. Meanwhile, the Prime Minister is rubbing shoulders with other European government leaders – including from the hard right, notably Italy’s Giorgia Meloni – to work towards majorities for “tougher” migration policy at a EU level as well as seek “inspiration” from each other (labelled as “innovative solutions”). While Italy’s “Albania deal” — another version of externalising asylum processes — has turned out a failure and “fiasco” for the government, similar initiatives are certain to come from European leaders in the future.
Rather than looking at Denmark’s non-solution, however, Europe must face reality: Many refugees and migrants will arrive in Europe in the future, no matter how much money is spent on border control and deterrence measures. A growing number of people are forced to flee from wars, oppression and climate change, and a large part of them have a right to stay according to international law. National deterrence policies will only push those who have already entered Europe through other European states, creating an endless vicious circle. Deterrence policies are based on coercion, limited rights and bad conditions, which only produce destitution, crime and hostility. At the same time, we need young people to take over from our aging populations. Refugees are more than willing and able to do that, if only Europe would welcome them, treat them with respect and dignity, educate them in our languages and train them in the skills that they need for living a good life here. The Danish model belongs to the past, not the future.
Michala Clante Bendixen is the founder and leader of the Danish NGO Refugees Welcome, and the country coordinator for Denmark on EUs integration website EWSI. She received the Danish Human Rights Award in 2014.