Sweden’s Next Big Industry: Refugees

By Sven Carlsson

Cheered on by his friends, Isaias Ghere, a young Eritrean, climbs to the top of a diving tower in Ramshyttan, central Sweden, and musters a last few push-ups. The lake beneath him is still, and so is the wind. Behind the tower, up the hill, is the refugee housing facility he now calls home.

To Ghere, this former hotel provides temporary shelter after an arduous journey to seek asylum. But to the facility’s owner, Tom Persson, it’s pumping out cash. Swedish authorities pay him up to $6,400 a day—or $194,000 per month—to put up 126 recently-arrived asylum seekers. And Persson’s not the only one profiting from this unexpected boom.

LEFT: Davlat, 19, from Tajikistan, was smuggled into Sweden four years ago after a money lender threatened to take him as a slave. RIGHT: Ahmed, 47, fled Syria because he had been arrested three times by military intelligence on suspicion of being a spy. (Cathal McNaughton/Reuters)

Bert Karlsson, an outspoken entrepreneur and former populist politician, is at the forefront of Sweden’s booming refugee business. He spent three years in parliament representing an anti-immigration party—but these days housing asylum seekers is his job.

“We’re in the hospitality industry,” he tells me over the phone.

So far this year, his company has billed Swedish authorities about $1.6 million each month. And Karlsson plans to expand from six facilities to 27, aiming to generate more than $100 million in annual revenue from refugees.

Global Crisis=Profit

The demand looks like it will be there: About 80,000 asylum seekers are expected to try their luck in Sweden this year. That’s almost as many as the US received during 2013, and triple the rate five years ago. Ahead of Sunday’s general elections, only the Sweden Democrats — a party that none of the other seven in parliament want to work with — are aiming to curb immigration.

As a result, the country’s Migration Board is swamped. Even calling them simply puts you in a long line, with a pre-recorded voice asking, urgently: “Do you have a home for refugees to offer us?”

LEFT: Collins, 23, from Nigeria, was tortured by police for being homosexual. RIGHT: Oamayma, 42, spent nine months fleeing from Syria to Sweden via Turkey and Greece. (Cathal McNaughton/Reuters)

It’s an emerging market with high demand. Some are hotels, like the one Ghere is staying at, that decided to close their doors and turn into refugee homes within a matter of hours. Others — typically former hotels or conference facilities — are already out of business when a new owner makes the conversion to refugee home.

It’s perfect for entrepreneurs. According to Karlsson, local governments simply aren’t fit to run that kind of business.

“You have to be flexible. They aren’t,” he says. “You think they can open a facility in three days?”

— Sven Carlsson is a journalist based in Stockholm