Lamyae Aharouay: ‘Doing business with the far right is no longer a big deal’ – and that’s why she’s leaving now
In recent years, it has almost become a sport in The Hague: normalising the unthinkable. We all watched it unfold—some with a sense of powerlessness, others with a shrug and the notion that “that’s just how politics works.” But now Lamyae Aharouay is putting down her pen for good, and it’s as if someone has thrown open a window in the meeting room. In her farewell column, she does what she has always done best: laying bare the heart of the matter with her razor-sharp insight. And that heart of the matter? It’s grimmer than we often care to admit.
“Doing business with the far right is no longer a big deal.” That one sentence from her final piece lingers. It’s not some conclusion drawn from an academic study; it’s the observation of someone who has spent years right on the frontlines of the Binnenhof. What was once an unwritten rule—a firewall against parties that undermine the rules of democracy—has been washed away. Not by a sudden landslide, but by steady erosion. And Lamyae Aharouay refuses to accept that as the new normal.
The price of ‘just playing along’
In the corridors, people whisper about ‘pragmatism.’ As if bringing radical-right factions into the fold to secure a majority is just a simple numbers game. But Aharouay pops that bubble. She clearly shows that it’s not about pragmatism; it’s about a choice. A choice to give hate and racism—once kept politely outside the door—a permanent seat at the negotiating table. It’s the political version of the overton window: what was once unspeakable becomes, through repetition and a lack of resistance, “just another opinion.” The price for this isn’t just the credibility of our institutions, but also the safety and sense of belonging of entire communities in this country.
Her departure, then, is more than just a change in personnel. It’s a statement. Someone who had such a precise way of articulating what went wrong is stepping away. Not because she can’t handle it anymore, but because she refuses to get used to the cold. Over the years, her work has consistently played a role that we almost forget in the hustle and bustle of daily news: that of the uncomfortable questioner.
- How can a cabinet that claims to stand for ‘normal behaviour’ work structurally with parties that undermine the rule of law?
- Why is the rhetoric that was taboo for decades now being dismissed as ‘just a different opinion’?
- And what does it mean for the future of democracy when the moral compass is replaced by a calculator?
These are the questions Lamyae Aharouay asked. And because the answers became increasingly uncomfortable or were simply absent, she chose a different platform. Not to remain silent, but to make her voice heard in another way. It’s a loss for political journalism in The Hague, which has already seen so many sharp voices leave in recent years.
The silence after the blow
What remains when the dust settles? The reactions to her farewell are telling. While some politicians dismissed her work as ‘know-it-all’, the recognition among a large part of the public was overwhelming. In the corridors of Parliament, but also on the streets, it is acknowledged that she was a seismograph. She felt the tremors before the rest of the country realised the ground was shaking. That she is leaving now forces us to reflect: have we truly lost the boundary? And if that boundary still exists, why is no one guarding it anymore?
For anyone who has followed The Hague’s political scene in recent years, it is clear: the departure of Lamyae Aharouay is a turning point. It’s the moment the warnings are no longer on a piece of paper but written in big, bold letters on the wall. Whether The Hague will take this lesson to heart is the big question. But one thing is certain: she leaves a void that won’t be filled easily. And as the negotiating tables fill up again with the same people who pushed her to her limit, the lingering question remains: who will still dare to say that the emperor has no clothes?