Beyond the money transfer: How do diaspora communities mobilise in times of crisis?

When a crisis occurs, diaspora communities do far more than send money home. From emotional solidarity to political advocacy, their forms of engagement challenge dominant narratives about what it means to help from afar. In this blog, researchers Haya Alfarra, Dr Gabriela Villacis Izquierdo and Dr Zeynep Kaşlı reflect on discussions from a community gathering in Rotterdam to explore how diaspora communities understand crises, experience them across borders and mobilise in response.

When we talk about diaspora contributions to crisis responses, the conversation almost always gravitates toward remittances, meaning the billions of dollars migrants transfer annually to their countries of origin. Yet a community gathering held in Rotterdam on 7 June 2026 revealed something that traditional analyses miss: namely, the rich, plural and deeply human ways in which diaspora communities mobilise when crisis hits, aspects that are commonly discussed in migration studies (Gardner, 2018) but less so in the humanitarian realm (Brun & Horst, 2023; Gamlen and Chakma, 2025; Rejón, R. et al., 2025).

The gathering highlighted the diversity within diaspora communities, which include long-standing migrants, new arrivals, exiled groups and refugees, who, despite their differences and tensions, share a strong sense of duty and connection to their ancestral homeland that drives them to respond in times of crisis, not only through economic remittances but also through social remittances (Levitt, 1998).

The event brought together diaspora members (connected to Türkiye, Lebanon, Iran and Pakistan) to collectively reflect on their understandings and lived experiences of crisis and solidarity. What emerged was a layered conversation that complicates both romantic notions of transnational community and reductive portrayals of diaspora as little more than a remittance pipeline.

Rethinking what constitutes a crisis

Before the question of how communities respond, participants grappled with a more fundamental one: what counts as a crisis in the first place and who has the authority to define it?

Participants drew careful distinctions among a challenge, a problem and a crisis, with the latter understood as something that fundamentally reorganizes life and is felt not only logistically but also existentially. Crises were understood to be political, personal, environmental, social or a combination of these. These different notions of crises impact people differently; they can be unifying or divisive.

Crucially, the group identified a dual nature to many crises. For example, a disaster is one crisis, but the state’s failure to respond adequately is another. This framing refuses to treat earthquakes or landslides as purely natural phenomena. Instead, it asks whose neighbourhoods collapse, whose losses go uncompensated and which communities are left to fend for themselves. Pre-existing inequality, participants argued, not only shapes the impact of crises but is itself a form of ongoing crisis. The temporality of crisis was considered: what if a crisis occurs repeatedly, becomes chronic and systemic? Does it remain a crisis? There was also productive tension over language. Some preferred ‘emergency’ for its urgency and lack of stigma; others pushed back, arguing that softening the vocabulary risks obscuring structural failures and diminishing accountability for those in power. These discussions illustrated that understandings of crises are political.

The emotional labour of distance

For diaspora members, crises in countries of origin carry a particular weight. Participants described the mental load of constant vigilance: following the news continuously, making anxious calls, worrying about people they cannot reach and about situations they cannot control. Living safely in the Netherlands while family members face conflict, disaster or political repression creates a distinct emotional tension (even guilt) that can feel isolating precisely because those around them in the host country may not share or fully understand the stakes.

This is where community building becomes crucial. Participants described turning first to people who ‘get it’, meaning fellow diaspora members who share similar anxieties, background knowledge and grief. At the same time, solidarity within diaspora communities should not be taken for granted. For some, finding like-minded people within their own community was challenging because their lived experiences in their home countries differed from those of the older generations, who tend to be more conservative and hold different political views.

These generational and political differences often influence who you trust, work and collaborate with. Nevertheless, the common thread between diaspora communities is their connection to the ancestral homeland that brings people together. Community spaces, whether physical or digital, serve as sites for emotional processing as much as for practical coordination. The first response to a crisis, it turns out, is rarely a bank transfer. It is a phone call, a gathering or a shared meal.

Mobilisation beyond money

What the gathering made visible is the breadth of what diaspora mobilisation actually looks like during crises. Participants described organising protests, running advocacy campaigns, building informal support networks, fundraising and using social media to shift narratives and create political pressure. In many cases, they are the most impactful interventions available.

Advocacy emerged as a particularly significant form of engagement. Several participants stressed the importance of thinking beyond immediate humanitarian aid toward longer-term structural change. Influencing policy and challenging dominant media narratives were all viewed as integral components of meaningful crisis response.

Diaspora communities often have unique leverage to undertake this work. Their linguistic skills, cultural knowledge, transnational networks and the political standing that comes with citizenship or residence in a Global North country provide opportunities to influence public debate and connect local experiences with international audiences.

Media representation was another recurring concern. Participants noted how international crisis coverage can reduce entire countries to a single story of instability, affecting how diaspora members are perceived and how they perceive themselves. Being viewed primarily through a lens of victimhood (even when well-intentioned) can be disempowering. Countering these simplified narratives was seen as an important form of mobilisation in its own right.

Solidarity that sustains

Perhaps the most generative insight from the gathering was the case for preventive solidarity, meaning building trust and support networks before emergencies occur, so that communities have the infrastructure to respond when they do. Crisis does not create community; rather, they reveal whether community already exists.

At the same time, participants also problematised the limits of solidarity. Class differences, educational backgrounds and diverse migration histories shape who feels able to ask for help and from whom. For some, seeking support within the diaspora community carries social costs. Trust, in this case, is built and cultivated over time.

Bringing together different diaspora communities offered a collective space to share, listen, be inspired and learn from one another. The untapped potential for solidarity among communities became apparent. One of the participants reflected on the community gathering by noting:

‘As a social researcher, I found these conversations deeply insightful…Understanding how people maintain connections, mobilise support and navigate belonging across borders can help us better design initiatives that strengthen participation, inclusion, and meaningful social connections. One concept that stayed with me throughout the workshop was social capital, the networks, trust, and relationships that enable people and communities to support one another, especially in times of uncertainty.’

The gathering made clear that diaspora communities are not passive conduits for financial flows. They are active, adaptive and politically conscious actors who bring emotional support, social capital, advocacy and transnational knowledge to crisis response. Recognizing these diverse forms of mobilisation in policy, research, and public discourse offers a new horizon for how researchers, policymakers and humanitarian organisations engage with diaspora communities.

This post reflects discussions from the community gathering organised as part of the LDE-GMD Seed Fund ‘Beyond Remittances: Diasporic Aid during Times of Crisis’, held on 7 June 2026 in Rotterdam. We are deeply grateful to every participant who attended in representation of their communities and homeland. 

References 

Brun, C. and Horst, C. (2023) “Towards a Conceptualisation of Relational Humanitarianism,” Journal of Humanitarian Affairs, 5(1), pp. 62–72. Available at: https://doi.org/10.7227/JHA.103. 

Gamlen, A. and Chakma, A. (2025) “Trusted intermediaries? The role of diasporas in humanitarian assistance,” International Journal of Disaster Risk Reduction, 117. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ijdrr.2025.105212. 

Gardner, Katy. 2018. ‘“Our Own Poor”: Transnational charity, development gifts, and the politics of suffering in Sylhet and the UK. Modern Asian Studies 52 (1), 163–185. 

Levitt, P. (1998) “Social Remittances: Migration Driven Local-Level Forms of Cultural Diffusion,” The International Migration Review, 32(4), pp. 926–948. Available at: https://doi.org/10.2307/2547666. 

Rejón, R. et al. (2025) “Diaspora Humanitarians: How Diaspora Communities Respond to Humanitarian Crises,” VOLUNTAS: 

International Journal of Voluntary and Nonprofit Organizations : Official journal of the International Society for Third-Sector Research, 36(2), pp. 191–203. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1007/s11266-024-00707-x 

About the authors:

Gabriela Villacis Izquierdo is an Ecuadorian researcher and lecturer with a PhD in Development Studies from Erasmus University Rotterdam. Her work examines humanitarian governance, feminist politics, and human mobility, with a focus on Latin America. She has over thirteen years of experience across academia, government, and civil society.

Haya AlFarra is a Palestinian part-time External PhD researcher at the International Institute of Social Studies (ISS), Erasmus University. Her research focuses on diaspora, diaspora engagement, diaspora humanitarianism, humanitarianism, medical humanitarian assistance, and Palestine.

All opinions expressed in this blog are the author’s own, and are not necessarily representative of BLISS, the International Institute of Social Studies, or Erasmus University Rotterdam. Please use generative AI tools with care.