Housing crisis calls for solutions, not scapegoats

When I arrived in the Netherlands as an asylum seeker in 2019, I soon learnt that people like me were being blamed for the housing crisis. I had received threats because of my work as a journalist in Uganda, following an investigation I had published into corruption linked to a humanitarian crisis. I had lost my own home and sought asylum in the Netherlands. Yet I was told that I was the cause of others not being able to find housing.

That accusation was at odds with what I experienced in daily life. My family and I received a warm welcome from strangers. Volunteers at the local library gave me Dutch lessons every week. Neighbours came to our door to offer help. Through VluchtelingenWerk, an organisation that helps refugees resettle, volunteers painted my house, put together furniture and showed us how to get to know our new hometown. The political tone felt hostile, but everyday life in the Netherlands actually felt compassionate. So political debate was distant from me at first.

But gradually I noticed that it was getting closer and closer. It slowly began to feel different. The same community that had once welcomed us with open arms began to react more cautiously. Political discussions about refugees and migrants became louder, and bits of that tension found their way into everyday interactions.

Conversations in the neighbourhood suddenly sounded different. People who used to stop for a moment to talk now seemed unsure what to say. The warmth was still there, but people struggled with a new tension shaped less by personal experience and more by the national narrative. It was not long before my children and I began to experience hostility from the same community that had once embraced us.

Recently, a child at my daughter's school said to her: ‘You are brown. You should go back to your own country.’ That comment did not come from a child's imagination. It came from adults, from conversations, from fear, from political messages. The remark was a sign that the political narrative, designed to divide people, had at least partially succeeded.

In Uganda, where I grew up, hospitality and caring for the community are part of everyday life. Uganda is Africa's largest host country for refugees, with more than 1.8 million people seeking safety, according to the UNHCR. Sharing resources is not seen as a burden but as a
responsibility. Therefore, when Dutch citizens welcomed me with great warmth and generosity, the Netherlands felt familiar even before I understood the language. This is why the shift in tone about refugees and migrants in the Netherlands is so striking and so unnecessary.

Pattern across Europe

Not only in the Netherlands is the housing shortage creating political fairy tales. Across Europe, similar crises have led to similar stories. In Germany, refugees have been linked to rising rents. In France, Italy and the UK, migrants were blamed for long waiting lists and high housing costs. Yet European housing analysts, including Housing Europe and the European Investment Bank, show that the real causes are structural. For decades, too few homes have been built, permit processes have been delayed and investors (until recently) faced relatively few restrictions in the housing market. This has contributed to rising prices. It is not a refugee crisis. It is a housing crisis.

Newcomers throughout European history have often been the culprits in difficult times. This is what Irish cultural sociologist Eoin Devereux describes in the article A Refugee Crisis or a Humanitarian Crisis? In the 1970s, Pakistani immigrants in the UK were blamed for housing shortages. During recessions in Spain and Italy, Eastern European workers were blamed for taking away jobs. Even within the Netherlands, people from other regions have been described as groups ‘putting pressure’ on local housing markets.

The pattern is always the same: when systems fail, the most visible outsiders are blamed. That dangerous narrative has gained a foothold. Blame is politically useful but socially destructive. It drives people apart. And it determines the perspective of the next generation.
The truth is that it is not refugees that have caused the housing crisis. Figures from the Central Bureau of Statistics (CBS) show a structural shortage of about 400,000 homes. This is the result of decades of underbuilding, planning delays and increasing market pressure. The housing crisis affects Dutch families, international students, young renters and also newcomers. Yet political narratives have made the refugee an easy target. It is easier to deflect blame than to face the truth: politics itself is not doing enough.

Three steps required

The solutions that have been tried have not worked sufficiently. Dutch housing experts point to three key steps needed to address the crisis. The problem is not that they are impossible, but that political choices have delayed them. Because each of those steps has the necessary political and practical obstacles.

First, there are the lengthy licensing procedures. The Nederlandsche Bank (DNB) repeatedly warned that these slow down housing construction. Many housing projects are delayed by years of paperwork, objections and local decisions. The result: construction targets are not met year after year. To address these delays, policymakers should simplify procedures, enforce national deadlines for authorisation and limit objection procedures.

Findings by the Council of State and DNB show that delays often stem from capacity problems at the municipal level and lengthy legal proceedings that can halt projects for years. The Strengthening Public Housing Control Act is a step forward in this regard, but whether it goes far enough remains uncertain.

Without faster decision-making at the local level, plans may not lead to an actual increase in housing supply. Second, much more affordable housing needs to be built. The supply of affordable housing has not grown at the same rate as demand. The government aims to build 100,000 homes a year. But it has inherited unrealised targets from previous governments, and essential details on how those targets will be achieved remain unclear, the Court of Audit states.

Let refugees contribute

The third solution lies with the newcomers themselves. Refugees are dehumanised by labelling them as costs or pressure factors. But they can make an essential contribution to Dutch society. The Advisory Council on Migration recommends integrating refugees and migrants in sectors with labour shortages, especially construction and care. Many newcomers already have appropriate skills, but face long delays in diploma assessment or work permits. Many are nurses, construction workers, carpenters, teachers, IT workers and engineers. Some work in healthcare facilities. Others join construction companies. Many start businesses.

They bring skills that the Netherlands urgently needs, especially in sectors directly related to the housing crisis. At the same time, figures show how wide the distance to full participation still is. 85 per cent of refugees depend on benefits in the first year after obtaining a residence permit. Even after seven years, only 47 per cent are employed.

Supporting refugees to work is not only morally right, it makes economic sense and can help ease labour shortages in the construction sector. Reducing barriers would support both the labour and housing markets. The above three steps do not require new policies, but political will to actually implement them. All people looking for housing will benefit. For refugees, housing delays are certainly not an abstract problem either, they are the reason they remain in limbo for longer without a stable home. The solutions are known and achievable, but too often the focus shifts to pointing to refugees as a problem rather than addressing the real causes.

Signal from the communicator

After the recent elections, the largest anti-immigration party went back to the opposition benches. The Netherlands is once again at a crossroads. D66 emerged as the largest party with a programme that prioritised building more housing and reducing polarisation. Voters sent a clear message: they want real solutions, not scapegoats. Now the country faces a choice: it can remain trapped in a cycle of fear and division. Or it can face the real causes of the housing crisis and move on.

The Netherlands can build houses without tearing communities apart. Rather, it has turned crisis into progress. After the 1953 flood disaster, the country responded with the Delta Works, one of the most advanced flood protection systems in the world. A global example of innovation born of tragedy. Today's challenge calls for the same courage: the strength to choose facts over fear, solutions over scapegoats and unity over division.

The above article previously appeared in Trade magazine Huurpeil, a publication of the Woonbond.