Germany's Turkish 'Guest Workers' Face Old-Age Poverty Six Decades On

Many retirees of Turkish descent struggle financially, with elevated poverty, welfare dependence, loneliness and health damage from decades of heavy labor.
They paid for it with their health.
Researcher Janina Söhn on the guest workers who did the tough jobs every economy needs.
Mark

Why does a story about pensions begin at an airport?

Mimi

Because Düsseldorf is where the first workers landed 65 years ago, and the September ceremony there praised their contribution. The pension figures show what that contribution cost them.

Mark

What are the headline numbers?

Mimi

Turkish-citizen pensioners average about €890 a month versus €1,250 for Germans. And 9.3 percent rely on top-up welfare, against 2.7 percent.

Luke

Those come from a DRV analysis, so they're solid. But they cover Turkish citizens, not everyone of Turkish descent.

Mimi

True, and that's worth keeping in mind. The poverty rates are different: 25 to 30 percent versus 12 to 14 percent come from Uslucan, as his account of migrants generally.

Luke

Right, that's one expert's figure, and it's about migrants overall, not only Turkish retirees.

Mark

What explains the gap?

Mimi

Arriving mid-career, low-wage factory and mine work, and job losses after the early 1970s oil crisis. Heavy labor also meant more disability and early retirement.

Luke

Seils says the biggest factor was lower wages and shorter work histories. Discrimination is raised as a wider problem, but the source doesn't measure how much it drives pensions.

Mark

And the human side?

Mimi

Söhn says family support is what keeps things from being worse, and Uslucan is studying loneliness among former guest workers.

Luke

What we don't know is whether any policy change is planned. The piece doesn't say.

  • Pensioners with Turkish citizenship receive about €890 a month, roughly €360 less than German retirees, and over three times as many depend on top-up welfare.
  • Old-age poverty among migrants sits at 25 to 30 percent, about double the rate for Germans, as years of heavy labor leave bodies worn and jobs lost.
  • Deindustrialization and the early-1970s oil crisis cut short careers that never fully recovered, leaving small pensions as the lasting mark.
  • Experts point to discrimination and limited access to training as barriers that still shape this generation's finances and health.
  • The open question hanging over the moment is whether pension and integration policy will reach the people who carried the country's industry on their backs.

Sixty-five years after West Germany and Turkey agreed to bring Turkish workers in for temporary stays, the people once called guest workers are reaching retirement with far less than their German neighbors. Their hard labor built much of the country's postwar prosperity, yet low wages, broken careers and punishing jobs have left many with pensions that barely sustain them. The story is one of a promise of temporary work that became a permanent life, and of the quiet cost that generation is still paying.

On October 30, 1961, West Germany and Turkey signed an agreement that allowed Turkish workers to come for temporary stays. Sixty-five years later, many of those who arrived as guest workers cannot live on what they receive in retirement.

At a commemoration at Düsseldorf Airport, where the first of them landed, North Rhine-Westphalia's premier honored their courage and their role in building Germany's prosperity. About 870,000 Turkish men and women had come by the time recruitment ended in 1973. They worked in coal mines, on assembly lines and on factory floors, mostly settling in Düsseldorf, Cologne and Duisburg.

Integration expert Haci-Halil Uslucan, whose own father worked in Berlin's textile industry before bringing his family over, sees the agreement as largely a success, pointing to more graduates and political careers. Yet he acknowledges that discrimination persists, and that poverty is the other side of the story. Old-age poverty among migrants runs at 25 to 30 percent, against 12 to 14 percent for Germans, shaped by punishing work, early disability and job losses.

Figures from the German pension insurance fund show Turkish citizens receive around €890 a month, €360 less than German pensioners, and more than three times as many rely on welfare top-ups. Researchers explain that many arrived mid-career, took low-paid jobs and then lost work during deindustrialization and the oil crisis. Women living alone face the sharpest risk, and few have the chance to earn extra income in retirement.

One researcher summed it up: this generation was brought in for the hardest jobs while others gained training, and those who kept the economy running paid for it with their health. Whether policy will meet their needs is still unanswered.

On October 30, 1961, West Germany and Turkey signed an agreement allowing Turkish workers to be recruited for temporary stays. Sixty-five years later, many of those who came, the people Germany called guest workers, cannot live on what they receive in retirement.

Düsseldorf Airport is where the first of them arrived, and in mid-September it became the setting for a commemoration. Henrik Wüst, premier of North Rhine-Westphalia, honored the courage of that first generation and their part in building Germany's prosperity. By the time recruitment stopped in 1973, about 870,000 Turkish men and women had come to work. They labored in coal mines, did piecework on assembly lines and cleaned factory floors. Most settled in Düsseldorf, Cologne or Duisburg. Wüst said they had made the country more diverse, more open and stronger, and added that the goal would be reached only when name, skin color and religion no longer matter.

Integration expert Haci-Halil Uslucan told DW that Germany is still far from that point. Even now, he said, people of Turkish descent face a great deal of discrimination. Still, he considers the recruitment agreement mostly a success story: many more college graduates, professional advancement, and political careers such as that of Cem Özdemir, state premier of Baden-Württemberg. Uslucan's own life fits that pattern. His father came to Berlin and worked in the textile industry, and two years later brought his wife and two sons over. Uslucan went on to earn a doctorate in psychology and now holds a professorship in contemporary Turkish studies at the University of Duisburg-Essen. His recent research examines loneliness among former guest workers.

Poverty is the other shadow. By Uslucan's account, old-age poverty runs between 25 and 30 percent among migrants in Germany, against roughly 12 to 14 percent among Germans. Disability and early retirement are significantly more common among migrants, he says, because the first generation did such punishing physical work. They were also twice as likely to lose their jobs in the decade before retirement age. Lower monthly pay, gaps in employment and work in low-wage sectors all feed into small pensions.

An analysis by the German pension insurance fund (DRV) for the Mediendienst Integration, an information service for journalists, puts numbers on it. Pensioners with Turkish citizenship receive on average about €890 a month, which is €360 less than the €1,250 German pensioners receive. In June 2026, 9.3 percent of retirees with Turkish citizenship relied on top-up welfare benefits, compared with 2.7 percent of Germans, more than three times the rate.

Eric Seils, a social scientist at the Hans Böckler Foundation in Düsseldorf, points first to timing: many workers arrived in the middle of their working lives and had fewer years to pay into the pension system. But the main reasons, he said, were lower wages and shorter work histories. Recruits often went straight to factories, mines or construction sites, where hourly pay was modest, partly because they tended to have less education than Germans. Deindustrialization and the oil crisis in the early 1970s then cost many of them their jobs, and Seils noted that interrupted careers eventually show up in retirement benefits. Less-educated workers were more likely to be laid off, he said, as were Germans in the same position.

Janina Söhn of the Institute for Sociological Research (SOFI) at Göttingen University, who has studied poverty among older immigrants, notes that nearly a third of immigrants in Germany are at risk of poverty. Women already face higher risk, she said, and the figures for female migrants living alone are dire. Without family support, she said, the situation would be worse.

Extra income in retirement is also harder to come by. Federal Employment Agency figures show that 5.2 percent of retired Turkish people in Germany are employed, half the 10.8 percent rate among Germans. Many lack qualifications or were left physically unfit by earlier labor. Söhn said the generation was brought in to do the worst jobs while many Germans advanced through education and training, an opportunity the Turkish workers did not get. Those who did work every economy needs, she said, paid for it with their health.

Whether pension and integration policy will address what this generation is living with remains the open question.

The people who did these tough jobs, which are always necessary for any economy, paid for it with their health.
— Janina Söhn, Institute for Sociological Research, Göttingen University
We will have reached our goal only once name, skin color and religion no longer matter.
— Henrik Wüst, premier of North Rhine-Westphalia
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