Dutch vote gave universities a reprieve. Will they use it?

The centre’s narrow victory in the Dutch elections offers universities breathing space from threatened cuts but reveals a challenge facing many universities across Europe. What happens next hinges on complex coalition negotiations and a deeper reckoning with populist framing of scientific evidence as just another opinion.

On 29 October, Dutch voters delivered a razor-thin verdict. The centrist Democrats 66 (D66) party edged past Geert Wilders’ far-right Freedom Party (PVV) by just 28,455 votes – the narrowest margin in Dutch history. The result ended months of political instability after the June collapse of Dick Schoof’s technocratic government, which had proposed cuts of €970 million (US$1.1 billion) to higher education alongside restrictions on international student numbers.

The Schoof government had also decided to phase out the National Growth Fund, a major investment vehicle for research, innovation and infrastructure that had committed over €11 billion to 50 projects.

In university corridors across the Netherlands, there was cautious optimism once votes were counted. D66 has historically championed higher education and research. But the relief was tempered by reality: a four- or even five-party coalition must be negotiated and is likely to include the centre-right People’s Party for Freedom and Democracy (VVD) and Christian Democrats, neither of whom opposed the previous government’s austerity measures outright.

What emerges from coalition talks over the coming months remains uncertain. More sobering still was how the previous government had framed its proposals.

Last year, PVV parliamentarian Reinder Blaauw – his party being a coalition partner – had been explicit about the motivation: “Too long has the activist woke culture been dominant in lecture halls and educational institutions,” he told parliament. The proposed cuts weren’t primarily about fiscal necessity. They were, he said, about forcing universities to “reconsider their priorities” – choosing between “political activism” and “proper education and research”.

The trigger was clear: student protests over Gaza, diversity officers, courses on decolonisation and critical race theory. The message was equally clear: if universities wouldn’t change course themselves, budget cuts would do it for them. The Schoof government collapsed before fully implementing these measures, but the intent had been stated openly – and whether the incoming coalition will reverse or modify these proposals remains to be seen.

Exploiting the trust gap

Wilders’ popularity isn’t built on opposition to higher education itself. Polling confirms the Dutch public has deep-seated trust in science, giving it the highest score (a 7.53 out of 10) of any public institution – far above the government (4.3) or parliament (4.8). Indeed, 86% of the public rates their trust as a 6.0 or higher out of 10 – a passing grade.

Rather, the populist frame exploits the gap between trusting science and distrusting its application. A recent study from the Rathenau Instituut reveals that while over 70% trust the scientific method and scientists, only 19% trust the conclusions journalists draw from science, and just 10% of the public trusts how politicians use scientific insights for policy.

The framing of universities as ‘elitist’ gains traction not because people don’t value research, but because they distrust the political and media structures that use that research. This tension is magnified in sensitive areas: while trust in health research is high (over 65%), it drops to below 45% for research on topics of discrimination and inequality – the very topics framed as ‘woke science’.

This tension isn’t unique to the Netherlands. Across Europe, universities navigate challenges more complex than funding disputes. They must defend academic freedom while addressing perceptions of political bias. They must remain internationally excellent while demonstrating relevance to the regions and nations that fund them. And they must do this while populist parties – representing roughly a quarter of voters in the Netherlands – question whether universities, however accomplished, still belong to ordinary citizens.

This is a landscape of growing polarisation: in the Netherlands, the share of citizens with low trust in science has risen (from 9.5% in 2021 to 14.6% in 2025), while the trusting ‘middle’ has shrunk significantly.

Growing disconnect from place

Brussels has responded to populist pressures with a clear strategy: strengthen international excellence. In her May 2025 Sorbonne speech, delivered just months after Donald Trump’s return to the United States presidency raised questions about American commitment to open science and international collaboration, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen launched the ‘Choose Europe for Science’ initiative.

She announced €500 million in new funding, longer-term “super grants” for top researchers, and measures to attract “the best from across the world”. The goal: make Europe “a magnet for researchers”.

The timing was deliberate. With uncertainty about research funding, visa policies for international scholars and potential restrictions on academic freedom in the US, Von der Leyen saw an opening. Europe could position itself as the stable, welcoming alternative for global talent. She invoked Marie Sklodowska-Curie – the Polish scientist barred from universities in her homeland who found freedom at the Sorbonne a century ago.

But Von der Leyen’s vision, shaped by this geopolitical competition, addresses only half the challenge. She speaks eloquently about horizontal integration – researcher mobility, cross-border collaboration, university networks. The implicit message: while America retreats inward, Europe doubles down on openness and internationalism.

Less visible in her speech is the question of what happens when the societies funding these institutions begin to question their value. Her speech mentions “freedom”, “excellence” and “collaboration” repeatedly. “Community” or “regions”: not once. These are precisely where trust in science – or distrust – takes root.

This reflects a broader pattern. European universities have become extraordinarily good at international connectivity – and the Trump presidency makes that comparative advantage even more valuable. The risk is that this success, and the strategic focus on competing globally for talent, masks a growing disconnect from the places universities actually inhabit. You cannot build a sustainable “magnet for researchers” if the societies paying for it no longer feel connected.

The vertical challenge

Maastricht University, a university that celebrates its 50th anniversary next year, illustrates both the opportunities and the tensions. It proudly declares itself “a European university” that is “firmly rooted in the region”. The university has invested heavily in regional economic development: innovation parks, industry partnerships, knowledge transfer. This work has real impact.

But “rooted in the region” can mean different things. This isn’t a story about bad faith or misguided priorities. It’s about how well-intentioned choices accumulate into patterns. Maastricht sits an hour from universities in Liège (Belgium) and Aachen (Germany). Yet sustaining collaboration with distant European partners has proved easier than deepening integration across these borders.

Fewer young people speak French or German; everything defaults to English. The cultural distance grows, not from neglect, but from the logic of international excellence.

Nearly half of Maastricht’s students are international – a genuine achievement. But many come from families with resources; studying abroad requires a financial cushion. Meanwhile, first-generation Dutch students from working-class backgrounds remain under-represented. The university is simultaneously embedded in Limburg and somewhat disconnected from it.

According to the European Parliament’s 2024 Academic Freedom Monitor, the Netherlands – like Austria, Lithuania, Bulgaria and Romania – saw its academic freedom score decline. Not through an authoritarian government takeover like Hungary, but through subtler erosion. When universities feel distant to citizens, political attacks find purchase.

The populist frame gains traction because it contains a grain of truth. “Theoretical Netherlands” versus “practical Netherlands”. When Wilders campaigns against universities as elite institutions, he’s not inventing a disconnect. He’s identifying one that universities and pro-democratic forces need to take seriously.

Von der Leyen’s incomplete strategy

The commission president rightly understands that Europe needs to compete globally for scientific talent. Stable funding, world-class infrastructure and collaborative networks matter. The €500 million package addresses genuine needs. But there’s a prior question worth asking: As universities become more internationally excellent, how do they maintain legitimacy with the societies that host them?

Von der Leyen promises longer contracts and higher allowances for researchers who “choose Europe”. But which Europe? The Brussels-imagined space of seamless mobility and borderless collaboration? Or the specific places where universities collect their funding from national taxpayers – in some where those universities’ presence creates tangible pressures on housing markets.

The risk isn’t that Von der Leyen’s strategy is wrong. It’s that it is incomplete. Horizontal integration without vertical anchoring becomes structurally vulnerable. When economic pressures mount or political winds shift, institutions perceived as distant become easier targets – regardless of their research excellence.

The previous Dutch government’s proposed cuts gained political traction not because Dutch citizens oppose research. They gained traction because, as the data shows, the connection between university excellence and trust in its application by politicians and the media had become perilously weak. This should be a learning moment.

Priorities and resource allocation

We believe that the outcome of the Dutch elections offers universities a breathing space to address this proactively, before the next political cycle.

First, access. Universities could treat first-generation student recruitment as seriously as they treat international student recruitment. Many universities and governments offer support schemes exclusively for first-generation students. But what if this became national policy rather than individual initiative?

Von der Leyen’s increased support for “early career scientists” offers opportunities here – if those scientists reflect the diversity of European societies, not just traditional academic pathways.

Second, funding structures could better recognise regional engagement alongside international excellence. Currently, European research funding rewards publications in elite international journals, collaborations with prestigious foreign institutions and cross-border mobility.

These metrics drive only one definition of scientific quality. But they also determine careers, grants and rankings – creating incentives that marginalise community engagement, regional partnerships, teaching that serves local needs and spin-offs that generate regional employment. What gets measured gets done; what funding formulas ignore gets neglected.

The European Research Area Act Von der Leyen proposes could incorporate vertical accountability alongside academic freedom – asking how institutions serve their regions, promote enrolment of first-generation students and ensure graduates contribute locally as well as globally.

Third, universities and funders must redefine ‘impact’. Beyond the traditional missions of research and education, the ‘third mission’ of societal impact is too often measured in purely economic terms (patents, spin-offs, industry partnerships). This must be expanded to formally recognise and reward civic engagement.

These aren’t impossibly difficult changes. They’re choices about priorities and resource allocation. The question is whether universities see the current moment as a warning or an opportunity.

The broader lesson

The recent elections in the Netherlands reveal how narrow the margin has become. Just 28,455 votes separated D66 from Wilders’ party. The multi-party coalition D66 will take months to form and will reflect these tensions.

But the deeper challenge transcends Dutch politics. Across Europe, universities have become extraordinarily successful at horizontal integration. The unfinished work is vertical: ensuring that international excellence strengthens rather than weakens connections to the societies that sustain these institutions.

Von der Leyen’s message to researchers is “Choose Science. Choose Europe”. Universities should add: “And choose communities”. Her €500 million fund should not just support international mobility but also regional engagement. Her European Research Area Act could enshrine not just academic freedom but societal connection.

Dutch universities haven’t just received a reprieve. They’ve been given an opportunity to demonstrate that international excellence and local relevance aren’t competing priorities – they’re mutually reinforcing.

The work isn’t impossible. But it requires recognising that the current path, however well-intentioned, has created vulnerabilities. Universities that address these proactively will be stronger, more legitimate and more resilient. Those that don’t may find the next political challenge less forgiving.