The Dutch village at risk of being demolished
The Dutch village at risk of being demolished
A community caught in the crosshairs of energy expansion
Nestled along the southern shore of the Hollands Diep estuary, a village of approximately 1,100 residents faces the prospect of being erased from the map. Moerdijk, a small fishing community 34km (21 miles) south of Rotterdam, is situated at the intersection of the Netherlands’ green energy goals and land scarcity. Officials claim the country needs extensive new areas to install high-voltage substations, critical for linking electricity from offshore wind farms to the national grid. Yet, the nation lacks sufficient space, prompting the focus on Moerdijk as a potential site.
Strategically positioned near key ports, motorways, and current overhead power lines, the village is deemed ideal for this purpose. However, its location also brings a heavy price: residents may soon lose their homes as the area is cleared for energy infrastructure. “We are being brought to the slaughter house,” says Jaco Koman, a third-generation fishmonger. From his office overlooking the shimmering waterway, he points toward the horizon, where his family’s livelihood has been rooted since 1918.
A legacy in jeopardy
Koman’s business still maintains live eels for smoking—a Dutch tradition—and supplies top-tier restaurants nationwide. Inside a bustling warehouse filled with massive, bubbling tanks, he displays a haul of writhing, long, slender black fish. “Be careful they can jump,” he jokes, easing the tension of my squeamishness. While the industry thrives, the village’s deep water and open land, which sustain it, are under threat of being repurposed.
“You go to bed with it and you wake up with it,” Koman laments, referring to the looming possibility of his village being replaced. When residents first learned of the plan, shock spread quickly. “It was really, really terrible,” he recalls, his voice trembling. The fear now extends beyond business; his home, on the other side of the dyke, could also vanish. Koman acknowledges the need for clean energy but questions why the burden falls here.
A personal loss and broader dilemma
For Andrea, owner of the local grocery shop, the stakes feel deeply personal. Her husband built their home with his own hands, and all three of their children were born there. “I’m scared I’ll lose my house,” she admits. “There’s so much life here. But in 10 years’ time it may be nothing.” The village cemetery, where her grandparents and in-laws rest, adds to her anxiety about what would happen to the graves if the area is redeveloped.
Moerdijk’s struggles mirror wider challenges across the Netherlands. The country is densely populated, and balancing demands for housing, farming, nature, transport, and renewable energy infrastructure has long been a complex task. In some regions, the electricity grid is already overwhelmed, forcing projects to wait years for connections. Meanwhile, the Dutch state pushes ahead with ambitious offshore wind plans, aiming to harness the North Sea’s potential. Yet, the question remains: how will this power reach shore without displacing communities?
Geerten Boogaard, a professor at Leiden University, highlights the political dynamics at play. “In the end we are a centralist state,” he explains. When the national government deems a project vital, it wields legal tools to enforce its will. Local councils can object, and residents can challenge decisions, but the central authority holds the final say. This power, however, comes with its own costs—both political and financial.
