Consider Denmark. Images of sleek, impossibly chic Copenhagen, the capital, might spring to mind. As well as a sense of a liberal, open society. That is the Scandinavian cliché.
However, when it comes to migration, Denmark has taken a strikingly different path. According to Marie Sandberg, director of the University of Copenhagen’s Advanced Migration Integration Studies (AMIS) centre, the country is now a European “pioneer in restrictive migration policies” – encompassing both asylum seekers and economic migrants seeking work in Denmark.
Perhaps even more surprising is the political source of these shifts. While it’s commonly assumed that the rise of far-right politicians across Europe is driving increasingly stringent migration policies, this is an oversimplification.
In Denmark – and, in a contradictory but similarly radical approach in Spain, promoting immigration increases rather than reductions – the politicians steering migration reforms have emerged from the centre-left.
Why is this? And what lessons can the rest of Europe – including the UK’s Labour government – learn from these experiences?
Migration is a key voter priority across Europe. These are, undoubtedly, turbulent times. With the ongoing war in Ukraine and hybrid warfare tactics like Russian cyberattacks, governments are prioritizing defence spending, while many European economies are struggling. Voters are grappling with the cost of living crisis, intensifying concerns about migration.
But in Denmark, the issue has deeper, longer roots.
Immigration increased significantly after World War Two, accelerating in recent decades. According to the Migration Policy Institute (MPI), the share of Denmark’s population who are immigrants or have two immigrant parents has increased fivefold since 1985.
A decade ago, during the 2015 European migration and refugee crisis, more than a million migrants arrived in Europe, largely heading to wealthier northern countries like Denmark, Sweden and Germany.
Slogans like “Danskerne Først” (Danes First) resonated with voters. Interviews with supporters of the far-right, anti-immigration Danish People’s Party (DPP) revealed sentiments like: “We don’t consider ourselves racist, but we feel we’re losing our country.”
Denmark faced international criticism for its tough policies towards refugees, particularly its policy of confiscating the assets of asylum seekers to cover the costs of their stay in Denmark.
Denmark’s immigration minister even posted a picture on Facebook celebrating the passing of the 50th amendment on tightening immigration control with a celebratory cake.
And Danish legislation has since become even stricter.
Mayors of cities outside Copenhagen had long voiced concerns about the rapid influx of migrants.
Migrant workers and their families settled outside the capital to escape the high cost of living. Denmark’s famed welfare system strained. Nurseries overflowed with children who did not speak Danish. Some unemployed migrants received higher relocation payments than jobless Danes, and government statistics showed higher crime rates among immigrants. Local resentment grew, prompting warnings from mayors.
Today, Denmark is among European nations advocating for the external processing of asylum seekers and other undocumented migrants.
The country initially considered holding undocumented migrants on a Danish island previously used for infectious animals; this plan was scrapped.
Then, in 2021, Copenhagen passed a law allowing the outsourcing of asylum applications processing and the relocation of refugees to partner countries like Rwanda. The UK’s former Conservative government had attempted a similar plan, later abandoned.
Copenhagen’s Kigali plan hasn’t significantly progressed, but stricter rules on family reunification – once considered a refugee right – were implemented. Furthermore, all refugee stays in Denmark are legally temporary, irrespective of their protection needs.
Many of Denmark’s tough measures seem designed to generate headlines rather than effect change. Alberto Horst Neydardt, a senior analyst at the European Policy Centre, says Danish officials have deliberately created a “hostile environment” for migrants.
And Denmark has actively sought to spread that message.
At the peak of the migrant crisis, advertisements in Lebanese newspapers warned of Denmark’s strict migration policies.
According to Susi Dennison, senior policy fellow at the European Council on Foreign Relations, the “aim was to reduce all incentives to come to Denmark”.
“The Danes went further than most European governments,” she argues, highlighting politically sensitive issues like crime and benefit abuse, and openly discussing a zero-asylum-seeker policy.
But, “before the 2015 refugee crisis, there was a very international… and a stereotype of Scandinavian countries having a welcoming culture for asylum seekers,” says Ms Dennison.
Then the response shifted sharply to: “No. Our first priority is to provide responsibly for the Danish people.”
She suggests this turning point was also influenced by Germany’s decision to allow millions of refugees and others to stay during the migrant crisis.
“That was a political choice that had consequences across Europe.”
By 2015, the anti-immigration Danish People’s Party was the second-largest party in the Danish parliament. Yet, the Social Democrats, under new leader Mette Frederiksen, decided to counter this trend, formally abandoning the party’s historically open stance on migration.
“My party had to listen,” Ms Frederiksen said.
Under her leadership, the party shifted on migration issues to what is usually considered the political “far right”, adopting tough asylum policies associated with the DPP. However, they also solidified policies associated with the left: public services.
Danes pay among the highest tax rates in Europe across all household types. In return, they expect high-quality public services. Ms Frederiksen argued that migration levels threatened social cohesion and welfare, disproportionately impacting the poorest Danes.
Her party justifies tough migration rules in this way.
Critics of Ms Frederiksen see her “turn to the right” as a cynical move to gain political power. She maintains her party’s views are sincere. Either way, it proved electorally successful.
Ms Frederiksen has been Denmark’s prime minister since 2019, and in last year’s European Parliament elections, the populist nationalist Danish People’s Party struggled to retain even a single seat.
Traditional political labels are blurring. This is not unique to Denmark. Across Europe, centre-right and centre-left parties are adopting language usually associated with the “far right” to win or retain votes.
Sir Keir Starmer recently faced criticism for a speech on immigration, in which he suggested Britain risked becoming a “country of strangers”.
Conversely, right-wing parties are adopting social policies traditionally associated with the left to broaden their appeal.
Nigel Farage, leader of the anti-immigration Reform Party in the UK, has been criticised for generous shadow budget proposals deemed unrealistic.
In France, centrist Emmanuel Macron has taken an increasingly tough stance on immigration, while his political rival, National Rally leader Marine Le Pen, has incorporated social welfare policies into her nationalist platform to attract broader support.
But can Denmark’s – and specifically the Danish Social Democrats’ – restrictive immigration policies be considered a success?
The answer depends on the metrics used.
The number of asylum applications in Denmark has fallen, unlike in much of Europe. According to immigration.dk, in May 2025, it was at its lowest level in 40 years.
However, Denmark, being a Scandinavian country, is not a frontline state like Italy, where migrant boats frequently land.
Oxford University professor Timothy Garton Ash argues Ms Frederiksen is benefiting from a “favourable geographical position”, also praising her for tackling migration without resorting to “hysterical rhetoric”.
Others argue the new legislation has damaged Denmark’s international reputation for upholding international humanitarian law and protecting asylum seekers’ rights. Michelle Pace of Chatham House points out that refugee protection in Denmark has been made difficult by constantly shifting legal parameters.
She also highlights the marginalisation of Danish citizens with migrant backgrounds.
She points to the Social Democrats’ “parallel societies” law, which allows the state to sell or demolish apartments in areas where at least half the population is of “non-western” origin.
The Social Democrats argue this law aims to improve integration, but Ms Pace contends it is discriminatory and signals to immigrant children that they are not fully Danish.
In February this year, an advocate general of the European Union’s highest court called the non-western clause in the Danish law discriminatory on the basis of national origin.
While some European leaders previously dismissed the Danish Social Democrats as having gone too far to the right, now “Denmark’s position has become the new normal – it was ahead of the curve,” says Alberto Horst Neydhardt.
“What is considered ‘good’ migration policy today has shifted rightwards, even for centre-left governments like the UK’s.”
Before the German general election this year, then centre-left Chancellor Olaf Scholz pledged to tighten asylum rules, including reducing family reunification.
And earlier this month, Ms Frederiksen joined eight other European leaders, excluding the UK, in calling for a reinterpretation of the European Convention on Human Rights, arguing that restrictions hinder the deportation of foreign nationals who have committed crimes.
According to Sara Wolff, professor of international studies and global politics at Leiden University, pushing back against international asylum laws is a trend Denmark is setting at a European level.
“Because migration has become politicised, you increasingly see liberal countries that have signed up to international conventions, such as human rights law, considered treaty-based, going back on those conventions because the legislation no longer fits the current political agenda,” says Ms Wolff.
Despite the restrictive legislation on migrants, Denmark continues to accept migrant workers through legal channels. However, critics like Michelle Pace argue this is insufficient, given its rapidly ageing population.
She predicts Denmark will face labour shortages in the future.
Meanwhile, Spain’s centre-left government is taking a radically different approach. Its Social Democrat prime minister, Pedro Sánchez, highlights Spain’s economic growth as the fastest among wealthy nations last year.
Its 3.2% GDP growth topped that of the US, was three times higher than the UK’s, and four times the EU average.
Mr Sánchez aims to regularise the status of almost a million migrants working in Spain but currently undocumented. He argues this will generate additional tax revenue and provide the workers needed to address labour shortages, secure economic growth and fund future pension payments.
Spain’s birth rate is among the lowest in the EU, and its population is ageing rapidly.
“Almost half our municipalities are at risk of depopulation,” he said in autumn 2024. “We have an ageing population who need care, companies looking for programmers, technicians, bricklayers… The key to migration is effective management.”
Critics accuse Mr Sánchez of encouraging illegal immigration and question Spain’s record on integrating migrants. Public opinion surveys suggest Mr Sánchez is on precarious ground: 57% of Spaniards believe the number of migrants is already too high, according to 40dB.
In under 30 years, the number of foreigners in Spain has increased almost ninefold, from 1.6% to 14%. However, migration issues haven’t led to widespread support for the nationalist Vox party, which takes a skeptical view of immigration.
Mr Sánchez’s government is engaging NGOs and private businesses, developing what Ms Pace calls a “national conversation”. The aim is to address labour market gaps while simultaneously reducing the burden on public services, funding the construction of housing and classrooms with additional tax revenues from new migrant workers.
For now, these plans are viewed with hope, and their success remains to be seen.
“A ‘successful’ migration policy depends on governments’ priorities, regardless of their political leanings,” argues Ms Dennison.
In Denmark, preserving the Danish social system is paramount. Italy prioritises outsourcing migrant processing. Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán champions severely restricting migrant numbers to protect Europe’s “Christian roots”, he claims.
Overstaying after visas expire is believed to be the most common way people enter and remain in Europe undocumented.
However, recent UK governments have focused on highly visible issues such as the arrival of migrant boats across the Channel.
Ms Dennison suggests this is a tactical move, aiming to “defuse public anger” by tackling visible problems and thereby hoping to gain voter support for providing refuge to those in need and accepting foreign workers.
She adds that for Mr Starmer, emulating the Danish approach would be difficult given his commitment to international institutions and the rule of law.
So, is there an “ideal” migration plan that balances voter anxieties, economic needs and humanitarian values?
Martin Ruhs, deputy director of the Migration Policy Centre, frequently poses this question to voters across the UK and Europe and believes public opinion is often more nuanced than politicians assume.
Many support a balance: migration limits for personal and family security, but also fair legislation to protect refugees and foreign workers once that security is established.
Main image source: SOPA Images via Getty
BBC InDepth is the home on the website and app for the best analysis, with fresh perspectives that challenge assumptions and deep reporting on the biggest issues of the day. And we showcase thought-provoking content from across BBC Sounds and iPlayer too.
Plane makes ‘routine landing’ in southern Germany following pilot’s medical request.
Judge halts White House’s imminent deportation of Egyptian family, a day after the promise.
Trade, Ukraine, and defence issues likely to dominate Trump-Merz Oval Office meeting.
German city locks down large area in what it calls biggest evacuation since end of WWII.
Report published into Bristol riots of August 2024.