Berkley Center

Before arriving in Denmark, I imagined it as a country where social equality reigned; where men and women shared child-rearing equally; where people lived the happiest lives; and where anyone could be accepted. While most of these preconceptions were more or less accurate, there were some differences that surprised me, particularly involving the treatment of immigrants.

Denmark is a country only slightly larger than the state of Maine and home to 5.5 million people. Approximately 600,000 immigrants reside in Denmark, many of whom originated from Africa, the Middle East, and Eastern Europe. In the 1960s, Denmark accepted workers from Turkey and Yugoslavia. However, in the 1970s, immigration laws limited entrance, and only the workers’ spouses were allowed to enter. Then, in the 1980s and 1990s, two waves of refugees and asylum seekers arrived, first from Iraq and Iran, and secondly from Somalia and Bosnia. Since 1989, the legal limit is 500 placements per year.

Thus, Denmark has a small, mostly Muslim, immigrant population in the midst of a historically Christian state. Walking down the streets, the glimpse of hijabs periodically breaks through waves of tall blonds. Current polls show decreased religiosity among Danes who, often, are more united by nationalism. In order for the Danish welfare state to succeed, people must trust that the large proportion of their income paid in taxes will be effectively used to support the common good. Therefore, I have heard fears about the relatively high unemployment rates among immigrant communities and that this might compromise the integrity of the welfare system.

Since arriving a month ago, I have made friends with Danes and found them welcoming. On the other hand, I have been confronted by over a dozen instances of what I would consider racial or religious prejudice. Several students and teachers stated how useless the immigrants are at learning Danish and fitting into society. On multiple occasions, skits and discussions occurred regarding the stereotypes of Copenhagen’s ethnic neighborhoods as “ghettos” with “high” levels of crime. I was told I should not go there. A city-wide manhunt ensued after a young Arab man with a suitcase appeared nervous on the train, and it turns out he was a medical student who was required by university policy to bring his own printer to his big exam. A friend's host brother showed school pictures of his entire class dressed up impersonating ethnic minorities, in which he was wearing a hijab. Two boys at our school impersonated Mexican migrant workers in the United States and performed a racist song in the school talent show that took the American students aback and offended a Mexican exchange student. When we attempted to explain the impact of the lyrics, they could not see why it was inappropriate.

In discussions with Danish students, they offered similar explanations such as, “Don't take it too seriously. That is just the Danish sense of humor.” Or, almost as a justification for their xenophobia, students told me, “We have gender equality and gay rights, so who else do we have to make fun of?” I struggled to understand this apparent contradiction between progressive Danish policies on same-sex marriage and paternity leave, and the intolerance I observed towards minorities.

I discovered an inherent difference between the American approach to “tolerance” and Danish liberalism. Instead of multiculturalism, Danish society champions “integration” as a process of speedy assimilation that will make immigrants fit the Danish model and be able to participate, socially and politically. This idea manifests itself as an explicit component of the naturalization process, written about in the newspapers, and is part of the educational system; it is a generally recognized part of Danish society. It is expressed that immigrants should learn the history, learn the Danish language, work, and pay their taxes, so that they can fit into the egalitarian system. Additionally, it seems that Danes value criticism and debate about one's beliefs of right and wrong. Tolerance might imply avoiding controversial debates and permitting differences to go unnoticed—differences that are obvious when most other people are homogeneous. From what I can gather, criticizing minority groups is not considered “politically incorrect” or something to avoid.

In my opinion, most of the information presented is from the Danish minority and there is little dialogue about race and religion that includes minority groups. In this case, the immigrant communities are relatively small and recent additions to society. I wonder if, as the immigrant community continues to grow in Denmark, the concept of “political correctness” will emerge or whether Danish criticism will continue to be the predominant attitude?