Shorouk Express
Every year since 2010, the Danish government has published a list of “parallel societies” which identifies certain areas and neighbourhoods as “at risk”. Hørgården, the housing complex made up of grey, modernist blocks in the southern part of Sønderbro, was included in the controversial list in 2018 and 2019, previously called the “ghetto list”, leading to a regeneration drive that aims to be inclusive and transform the area with the participation of the residents.
Nevertheless, resident participation in these urban renewal projects has not been consistent from neighbourhood to neighbourhood and, according to Project Manager, Niels Frisch Kjølholt, who works for Copenhagen’s Technical and Environmental Administration, Hørgården’s members are often under-represented in meetings.
Ahmed, 27, lives in Hørgården and, like all residents of Sønderbro, was invited to take part in one of the meetings. He went to the first meeting and from then on wasn’t very involved. “It was just a bureaucratic meeting that went round in circles, talking about introducing a small lawn here or changing the car park there. That’s not what people need.”
According to the latest publication of the list, a “parallel society” is defined as a social housing area with at least 1,000 residents, where the proportion of immigrants and descendants from non-Western countries exceeds 50 per cent and where at least two of four criteria relating to educational attainment and employment, income and crime levels are met.
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In recent years, Hørgården has been considered a “prevention area”. This means that although it is no longer on the list of “parallel societies”, it still has more than 1,000 residents and a proportion of immigrants and descendants from non-Western countries of more than 30 per cent. In addition, at least two of the following four criteria are met:
1. The proportion of residents aged between 18 and 64 who are in neither employment nor education is over 30%, over a two year average..
2. The proportion of residents convicted of a penal code violation, weapons law violation or violating drug laws is at least 2 times higher than the national average, again over a two year average.
3. The proportion of residents aged between 30 and 59 not educated beyond the age of 16 exceeds 60 per cent of residents in that age group.
4. The average income of taxpayers aged between 15 and 64 in the area (excluding those looking for education) is less than 65% of the average gross income of the same age group in the region.
Under Danish law, a “Western” country is one of “all 27 EU countries, the UK, Andorra, Iceland, Liechtenstein, Monaco, Norway, San Marino, Switzerland, Vatican City, Canada, the US, Australia and New Zealand”. Africa, Latin America, the Middle East and Asia are all considered non-Western.
Daniel Tomicic, 27, is one of the residents of Hørgården and has taken part in some of the Sønderbro regeneration team’s initiatives. He doesn’t hide his criticism or anger at the government’s list, which is published every year. In his opinion, it only embeds discrimination. “I can get a job, I can work, I’m educated, I don’t commit crimes, I even create art, which has ended up being my way of life, but my ancestry is something I was born with and I can never change it,” he says. “The law basically states that non-Western ancestry means you live in a ghetto – it’s state racism.”
According to Daniel, many do not know what the regeneration project entails; “All the young people I spoke to didn’t know about it, or they weren’t interested because nobody explained why it should be so important to them.”
He views the neighbourhood as friendly and kind and, though he doesn’t deny that there are some “negative stories”, he also stresses that there are many “positive stories”, condemning the stigma that residents face because of the way the neighbourhood’s problems are framed by the list.
For Henrik Gutzon Larsen, an urban policy researcher and co-author of the study Gentrification: Gentle or Traumatic? Urban Renewal Policies and Socioeconomic Transformations in Copenhagen, situating a problem geographically is a very common way of approaching problems politically. “It’s much easier to say that we have a problem here than that we have a problem everywhere.” Indeed, it is true that there are specific places that need to improve services to improve quality of life.
However, he argues that the “parallel societies” list has led to a change in discourse since the 1980s, where the most vulnerable socio-economic groups living in social housing have been problematised geographically, instead of perceiving social problems such as unemployment and the integration of immigrant groups at a national level.
Creating inclusionary or exceptionary policies?
In the 2018 plan called “One Denmark without Parallel Societies: No Ghettos in 2030”, the then government proposed urban development projects to “restore and develop areas into attractive neighbourhoods with a mix of residents” including “the sale of existing buildings, targeted demolitions and new construction of private housing” if an area remained on the list for five consecutive years, with a view to reducing the proportion of family social housing to a maximum of 40%, according to Law § 168 a.
To prevent areas from being on the list, Niels explains that, “we, the city, decided – or at least the politicians decided – to regenerate all the areas that appeared on the list, to try to keep those same areas off it in the future.”
Yet, as Henrik Gutzon Larsen, the urban policy researcher, explains, “in principle, urban regeneration can be separated from gentrification, but in reality they are often very closely related and almost impossible to disentangle from one another.” According to Henrik, these projects promoted by the state aim to create integrated societies with a mix of social demographics, where it is stated that they will “try to come up with a greater social mix or some variant of that word, saying that we have a neighbourhood here with challenges that relate to that specific socio-economic group and it would be good to bring in some people who perhaps have a stronger socio-economic profile.”
He explains, however, “there is often an unspoken rule, that if you bring someone in, you need to kick someone out or you need to create more space and, if you manage to bring in a new group, this could drive out the old group in any case, for example through price rises,” he says.
According to Rasmus Anderson, the architect responsible for the renovation of Hørgården and the space near the borders of Sundholm, in the northern part of Sønderbro, Sønderbro’s regeneration will not lead to a different socio-economic mix. Nevertheless, this urban renewal drive contains two projects within Hørgårde’s Regeneration Plan named “Possible Densification in Hørgården – new types of housing for more people’ and ‘Infrastructure Projects in Hørgården – from closed residential area to an open, green and active one.”
As the Regeneration Plan mentions, these two projects, which are the responsibility of the housing association 3B that owns the Hørgården housing complex, “are not directly part of the Sønderbro Area Renewal Plan, but the Area Renewal Plan will, as far as possible, support projects and support improved traffic and connections between the residential area, Hørgården, and the surrounding city.”
To add another layer of complexity to this regeneration drive, as Hørgården is a “prevention area”, flexible renting is still in place. This measure, applied specifically to areas covered by the list, allows the City Council to work with housing associations so that vacant homes in a housing block are rented out according to special criteria. This means that applicants who meet certain criteria, such as employment status or educational attainment, must be at the front of the queue.
Daniel Tomicic declares with some anger: “They’re building low-income housing, but they’re making access difficult for people on low incomes.” In his opinion, the list is simply moving the problem elsewhere. When he moved to the neighbourhood a few years ago, where he lives alone in a flat, he had to show documents that proved that he was studying and had no criminal record. “You can no longer move into the area if you don’t have the correct paperwork,” he says.
It is also worth noting that the list focuses on social housing. “It takes a narrow view, only looking at social housing and not at private renting. If you expand it to account for private rental properties, then you would identify problems in other areas” explains researcher Henrik Gutzon Larsen.
In the author’s view, the rhetoric used by right-wing parties about the “parallel societies” list has paved the way for the demonisation of social housing built in the “golden age” of the Danish welfare state, pointing out that 20 per cent of Danish real estate still belongs to not-for-profit housing associations.
On 21 March 2023, according to the Regeneration Plan for Hørgården, the residents of Hørgården voted to proceed with the densification project. This proposed densification is intended to build private housing alongside new social housing for the elderly, generating a “more mixed composition of residents.” The neighbourhood’s current “temporary civic centre” containing facilities for children and teenagers and a “worn-out square” where residents have a small market, a bar, and a pizzeria, will be demolished if this densification plan goes ahead.
Despite not being very involved in the neighbourhood’s regeneration, Mohammed, an employee at Hørgården’s youth centre, which is located next to this area, recalls a vote on selling the plot around the youth centre and possibly even the area that includes the youth centre. “No one has come to talk to us here, so we don’t really know what’s going to happen to this place. I just know that it was a strange vote, people didn’t really know what they were voting for and only a few people were there, so they don’t represent everyone.”
For Henrik Gutzon Larsen, “framing the management of this issue in ethnicised politics, particularly in this type of housing, could conceal a different kind of objective: selling social housing.” Attributing unique problems to these areas, “makes actions that would have been unheard of before, like getting rid of social housing, possible.”
The youth centre fosters inclusion, but its future is uncertain
Mohammed has been an employee of Hørgården’s youth club for 20 years, the place where Daniel and Ahmed spent time as teenagers after school. Adjacent to the recycling centre, this space for young people aged 13 to 18 to meet after school is a place for socialising, keeping young people off the streets and preparing them for the future.
It was late afternoon when I visited the youth centre. Classes had already started and it was a community dinner evening. Hassan, the centre’s other social worker and another Hørgården resident, was already in the kitchen with his apron and some young people had already arrived. If they want to, they can help prepare dinner so they don’t have to pay. “But since it’s only 10 Danish kroner (€1.34) for dinner”, says Mohammed, “most people pay.” Some were in the computer room, others were playing Playstation, others were on the sofas, distracted by their mobile phones, and there were still some very carefully tending to the tomato plant in the small garden at the entrance to the centre.
The youth centre is a “safe haven” where young people can relax after school or on holiday and be “themselves”, in Mohammed’s words, but that’s not all. It’s also a place for advice and preparation for adult life, especially “in a neighbourhood that was, and still is, a problem area where most young people hang out on the streets and do things they shouldn’t do,” according to Hassan, a social worker who has been at the centre for 11 years.
Before they turn 18, there is a list of things that employees try to teach them. It is a list that brings together practical knowledge that is often unknown to some families in the neighbourhood. “We help them with the things they need to know, the basics. For example, dentistry is free until you’re 18, and when our young people are 17, we remind them to get their last check-ups before it costs them,” Hassan explains.
They also help them to apply for a residence card if they don’t already have a passport, a process that has become more difficult over the years, they support them in applying for social housing lists so that they can have a long-term flat at affordable prices, and they also organise visits to some companies or institutions so that they can get an idea of the academic and/or professional path they would like to follow.
At the moment, Mohammed isn’t worried about the young people he sees and works with. He says “they’re on the right track with school and work.” They play sports. “There’s no crime, no gangs” and he says it’s a pleasure to be working there. But the vote on 21 March 2023 on the sale of the space owned by 3B, the housing association that owns all social housing in Hørgården and Sundholm Syd, and is responsible for the densification project in the Hørgården neighbourhood, has upset the apple cart. The uncertainty about the future of the youth centre’s current premises is felt not only by staff, but also by former members Ahmed and Daniel.
“The only thing I know is that they’re going to sell”, says Mohammed, and that “some private companies might buy.” The red-roofed buildings next door – the “temporary civic centre” mentioned in the Hørgården Regeneration Plan – make up institutions for children and adolescents.
As Mohammed says, the area is attractive, it’s close to the city centre, it’s well connected with the metro and bus network and “Copenhagen doesn’t have many places to build anymore.” “They did it next door in Urbanplanen, where they also built private housing, so I think it’s the same thing that will happen here. In twenty years’ time, only people with money will live here.”
Hassan would be more than happy if the institutions there were renovated and provided the same services, but “if they remove the centre from here and move it elsewhere, it will be difficult for us to establish a strong relationship with our young people and children.”
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In addition to uncertainty over its premises, the youth centre’s budget, provided by the Municipality of Copenhagen, has been cut over the years. Ahmed, who is helping with translation, intervenes: “Every year they provide a bit less, but it’s still a small enough cut for no one to really fight it because it’s not that drastic. They have to lay off staff every year or do less of something. They can’t finance themselves and in the end they will get so little money that there’s no-one left to complain,” Ahmed explains.
Not knowing the fate of the centre, which is a “safe haven” for the neighbourhood’s young people and children, breeds a sense of hesitation, insecurity and loss, especially for the young people who complain that there is “nowhere to go” in the neighbourhood.
According to Ahmed, the lack of resources for families in the neighbourhood not only affects parents, but also young people living in the area. “Many families don’t have much money, so there isn’t always much to do at home. Many parents end up being away most of the time. So if you take away all the football pitches or the playgrounds or anything else, they’re just left to wander around.”
Breaking down invisible borders
Daniel was always told not to cross the street where Hørgården physically and mentally ends. Sundholm can be seen to the north with the new 3B flats – Sundholm Syd – and, above that, the imposing yellow buildings from the early 20th century that serve as support institutions for around 200 to 300 homeless people.
When I was younger, I was afraid to go there. I’d hear stories from older people about the homeless people who lived there and the substance abuse on the streets. The juvenile prison is also in the area, so it always seemed to him to be an ‘isolated and segregated’ area.
To counteract the isolation of the area, near the intersection of Sundholm and Hørgården, Sønderbro’s regeneration plan proposes “a social meeting point for the whole neighbourhood,” says Rasmus, the architect responsible for the project.
According to him, this space should include the homeless people living on Sundholm – “a very vulnerable group” –, the residents of Sundholm Syd, the residents of Hørgården, and also the children of two special needs schools that are located right next door. He admits that the area is very complex, but he says that the “space needs to be able to contain different types of uses without excluding certain groups”.
Considered a “romanticised” project by some participants in the project meetings, this initiative is the embodiment of the soul of urban regeneration in Copenhagen.
Jørgen moved to Sundholm in 2015 when 3B opened the housing competition for the newly built flats in front of Hørgården. Called Sundholm Syd, it was when he happened to cycle past on his way to work that he discovered a kind of “lottery” for a flat in the development.
In Niels’ words, this development was a “way of attracting wealthier residents than those who already lived in Hørgården.” And indeed, since 2015, 48 new households have arrived in the neighbourhood, belonging to a stronger socio-economic demographic.
Aware of the aim of this housing to encourage diversity in the neighbourhood and create a social mix, according to Jørgen, all the new residents were aware of the compromises this involved: “The homeless who sometimes make noise, the youth prison next door where young people set off fireworks and cry in the middle of the night. It’s a bit annoying, but it is what it is. Some of us came with an understanding of, please don’t cry, don’t steal, behave normally and we’ll all be happy, but that’s not the world we were put into.” (Many of the young inmates at Sønderbro’s juvenile prison have friends in the neighbourhood, and it is they who set off fireworks outside to entertain their friends inside).
Nevertheless, since Jørgen arrived in the neighbourhood in 2015, he admits that the various social groups don’t interact on a daily basis.
He doesn’t share Rasmus’ enthusiasm for the area as a social meeting point for people in the neighbourhood, but he also confesses that he is not very involved in the process of renovating the neighbourhood. He thinks there needs to be a greater purpose for people to start interacting with the process. “If it’s to remove the car park, add a bit of grass and some benches, I don’t see that doing anything.”
Daniel also agrees that there needs to be a reason for the people of Hørgården to use that part of the neighbourhood. In his opinion, the opening of some cultural venues, a youth centre or even “some shops and cafés” could make the area less isolated, and he would view that project with some optimism.
For his part, Ahmed shows some concern for the gentrification of the neighbourhood, for example when he thinks about the future of the old barn next to the space about to be regenerated. “They’re going to present it as inclusive, everyone is welcome, but no one is going to invite us. It’s going to be a high culture thing that people from outside are going to use a lot.”
Rasmus says that, in the renovation team, the risk of gentrification is “something we take seriously”, but he doesn’t think it should be too great a concern.
However, Lars Lindegaard Gregersen, Artistic Advisor at Glimt Amager, one of the organisations based in Sønderbro, believes that the neighbourhood “could very well go down that path.” According to him, it all depends on the institutions or cultural activities that exist there, “because if it is designed to try to get more of the rest of the city to come to Sundholm, with things exclusively for people who live in neighbouring areas, then it could easily foster a conflict with Sundholm residents who feel their space is not really their own.”
In my last conversation with Rasmus, the architect maintained a hopeful tone, believing that small steps had been taken in the right direction. At the beginning of September, the regeneration team organised a social event that included a community dinner. Around eighty people attended and, according to their calculations, thirty to forty of the participants were homeless people living in Sundholm.
Everyone shared the same meal together.
This is just the start for Sønderbro’s regeneration, which, as many others have before it, promises to create a more integrated neighbourhood. Yet the question remains: will Sønderbro be an example of true inclusion or just a half-realised promise?
👉 Original article on Gerador
🤝 This article is published within the Come Together collaborative project
