The situationship of Dutchies and internationals

We often talk about the challenges international students face and rightly so. But we rarely speak about international staff who also chose to build their careers here. Maybe that’s because, until now, the benefits outweighed the drawbacks, and it felt a bit bratty to complain. But after a couple of conversations in which it was subtly implied that we, as internationals, might be taking funds that rightfully belong to the Dutch, I decided to be that brat.

First, to be clear: I know there aren’t many countries that would let someone work for a decade without fluently speaking the national language. I also know that my income supports a decent lifestyle, and the university backs me in ways I might not find elsewhere. Having these conditions still feels surreal to many of us, whereas for Dutch academics, this may seem standard. Indeed, Dutchies have always held themselves (and their institutions) to a higher standard, which is admirable.

But lately, something has shifted. Just like the public rhetoric around international students where discussions on housing and overcrowding have fuelled xenophobia, there’s now a similar undercurrent tied to the funding cuts. Inevitably, fewer resources mean fewer opportunities. And when spots become limited, do internationals become the easy target, an expense that’s easy to cut?

We’ve seen this play out before in places like the UK. The narrative of outsiders taking jobs, draining systems, not belonging. A big part of me wants to believe that kind of sentiment won’t take root here. But I’m also afraid that it already has. And given the current political climate, that fear doesn’t feel unfounded.

It’s simply unfair to invite internationals to the table in good times, only to question or sideline them when things get hard. We were invited to contribute and yet now we are made to feel like a burden. And let’s be clear: we have brought something to that table. We’ve built courses, supervised students, written grants, published under Dutch institutions, and helped grow their international reputation. That’s probably the only thing comforting us as we eat Dutch food, bike through Dutch rain, pay our Tikkies on time, and hope that paracetamol cures everything.

So when certain politicians try to paint us as opportunists, it’s not just wrong, it’s hurtful. It also ignores the human side of things: we gave something up to be here. Pieces of ourselves, the lives and people we left behind, the places that used to feel like home.

I think a lot of internationals are simply tired of this situationship we have with the countries we’ve given so much to. So whether it’s during a time of cuts or abundance, the Netherlands has to decide: are we in this together or only when it’s easy? Because if it is the latter, then indeed we can talk about opportunism, but it’s not coming from our side.