The Dutch village at risk of being demolished

The Dutch village at risk of being demolished

Near the southern coast of the Netherlands, along a sprawling estuary, a village of roughly 1,100 inhabitants may soon be erased from the landscape. Moerdijk, a modest fishing town 34 kilometers (21 miles) south of Rotterdam, sits at the intersection of the country’s push for green energy. The Dutch government has highlighted the need for new sites to accommodate high-voltage substations, which will transmit power from expanding offshore wind farms to the national grid. Yet, with limited land availability, Moerdijk’s fate has become a focal point for planners.

Strategically positioned on the southern edge of the Hollands Diep estuary, Moerdijk’s location near ports, highways, and existing power lines makes it an ideal candidate for such infrastructure. Despite its natural advantages, the village now faces the threat of being redeveloped, potentially leading to the demolition of homes and the loss of its community. “We are being brought to the slaughterhouse,” says Jaco Koman, a third-generation fishmonger. His family has fished these waters since 1918, sustaining their livelihood through traditional methods like eel smoking, a practice still central to his business.

“You go to bed with it and you wake up with it,” he says of the threat to his village.

Koman, who recently guided a visitor through his warehouse filled with bubbling water tanks and wriggling eels, jokes about their tendency to leap. “Be careful they can jump,” he adds, laughing at the visitor’s hesitation. While the industry remains robust, the same land that supports his business is also seen as valuable for new energy projects. “Are they really saying that you have to go with your village?” he questions, reflecting the community’s unease.

Residents initially reacted with shock when the proposal was first announced. “It was really, really terrible,” Koman recalls, his voice trembling. The fear extends beyond business—his home, located behind the dyke that shields the village from the sea, could also be lost. For Andrea, the local grocery shop owner, the emotional stakes are profound. “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.”

“There’s so much life here. But in 10 years’ time it may be nothing.”

Andrea’s family history is deeply tied to Moerdijk. Her husband built their home with his own hands, and all three of their children were born in the village. Even more poignantly, her grandparents and in-laws rest in the quiet cemetery, raising the question of what will become of their graves if the village is redeveloped. The uncertainty casts a shadow over daily life, with “for sale” signs dotting driveways and few buyers willing to commit to a future that might be disrupted.

Moerdijk’s struggle mirrors broader challenges across the Netherlands. The country’s dense population has long created tension between land use priorities: housing, agriculture, nature, transport, and now renewable energy infrastructure. In some regions, the electricity grid is already overwhelmed, forcing projects to wait years for connections. Meanwhile, the government aims to harness the North Sea’s wind potential, requiring efficient ways to transport power inland. The debate over Moerdijk underscores how political power shapes decisions, even when local concerns are strong.

Geerten Boogaard, a professor of local governance at Leiden University, explains that Moerdijk exemplifies the centralization of authority in the Dutch system. “In the end we are a centralist state,” he states. “When the national government declares something a vital national interest, there are tools to enforce it.” While local councils and residents can raise objections, the central government retains the legal means to push through plans, often at a cost to communities.