February 2016

As the European migrant crisis reached new heights last summer, much attention was given to the stress of countries on Europe’s southern flank—in particular Greece, which has processed the vast majority of incoming refugees from across the Mediterranean. Subsequently, the conversation was driven by central Europe: on the one hand by Germany, which spearheaded the continent’s open-door policy, and on the other hand by Hungary, which has resisted it.

By now, however, the effects of the migrant crisis have spread to all corners of Europe, including its far northern reaches. The five Nordic countries—Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Finland, and Iceland—are increasingly at the center of a debate about Europe’s capacity to absorb and assimilate refugees. The Nordics now find themselves in a historic bind that pits their welcoming ideals against the overwhelming realities of an unprecedented migration crisis. As European leaders seek to craft a continent-wide policy to manage the crisis, the Nordic response may prove a bellwether for future policy.

In broad strokes, a similar pattern has played out across the Nordics since last summer. At first, the Nordic countries welcomed refugees with open arms. As the pace of migrant flows accelerated into the fall, however, the Nordics found their capacity overwhelmed. Subsequently, political leaders have faced mounting domestic pressure to curtail migrant flows. Since the end of 2015, Nordic governments have followed through with new laws intended to deter migrants.

The current crisis represents a profound test of the Nordics’ cultural reputation for tolerance and inclusion. Sweden, as one example, prides itself on its generosity: the country famously welcomed Jewish refugees during World War II, and later accepted waves of asylum seekers from Iran, Chile, and Bosnia. The other Nordic states have likewise long been admired for their inclusive social ideals. The unprecedented scope of the current migrant crisis, however, has tested this idealism and forced the Nordic states to modify their existing policy.

The specific features of those policies have drawn some criticism. In January, for instance, Denmark passed a controversial law apparently authorizing police to seize valuable assets from refugees. Since then, however, the government has modified and clarified the law to address international concerns. In practice, the law has not been widely enforced, and its passage was largely a symbolic move to deter further migration. Denmark received 21,000 asylum requests in 2015, making it one of the highest per capita destinations for refugees in Europe.

Sweden and Finland received even more migrants last year: an estimated 32,000 for Finland and as many as 190,000 for Sweden. This year, both countries are taking steps to reduce those numbers. In late January, Sweden announced that it would reject the applications of up to 80,000 asylum seekers already in the country. A day later, Finland declared that it would deport roughly 20,000 migrants. Both these measures followed Norway’s December decision to introduce 40 new legal restrictions on migration.

While the specifics of these laws remain controversial, they reflect legitimate concerns about the Nordics’ ability to integrate refugee populations. In the short term, the Nordics have seen state agencies overwhelmed by the demands of feeding, housing, and assimilating so many migrants. State agencies are hosting language and culture classes to encourage assimilation, but thousands of migrants remain out of the workforce and languish in temporary asylum centers. In the long term, citizens worry about the strain refugees will place on the Nordics’ generous welfare systems. These tensions have eroded the civic trust that is central to Nordic society.

Iceland remains something of an outlier in this general Nordic pattern. With its tiny population and distance from the European continent, Iceland has not experienced the same volume of migrant flows as the rest of Europe. In fact, Iceland originally pledged to take in only 50 Syrian refugees, which led civil society groups to pressure the government to dramatically increase its commitment to 5,000. However, the government has not made such a steep commitment, and Icelandic Prime Minister Sigmundur Gunnlaugsson has expressed skepticism about Europe’s open-border policy. While Iceland has yet to be tested with huge migrant flows, its society still remains divided about the feasibility of assimilating migrants.

European society at large is divided on that front, but popular opinion is trending against further immigration, even for those who are sympathetic to the plight of refugees. The Nordic experience reveals in dramatic terms the tension between European ideals and the challenges presented by the current crisis. New solutions may be needed to properly address the crisis in a balanced, humane, and realistic fashion—and the Nordic countries will surely help drive that conversation.