Despite the dream of a borderless EU, enshrined in the free movement principles of the Schengen Area, EU citizens can still get deported from a host country. Krystian is among the hundreds removed from the Netherlands every year because they no longer meet the conditions under EU law.

In 2024, 690 EU citizens were forced to leave left the country, compared with only 290 in 2019, according to the Dutch Repatriation and Departure Service (DTenV). The deportations – officially called “transfers” as they happen within EU borders – are decided on by the Dutch Immigration and Naturalisation Service (IND) and are based on a lack of lawful residence under EU law. The vast majority of cases are initiated because of “causing a nuisance” – out of about 800 cases the IND decided on in 2024, 590 were related to this reason.

The biggest group affected by these deportations are unsheltered migrants – basically, those living on the streets – from Central and Eastern Europe, mainly Poland and Romania. The number of Poles deported from the Netherlands doubled in five years, from 156 in 2020 to 356 in 2024, data from the Polish Ministry of Internal Affairs and Administration shows (though the Polish authorities don’t keep records of the reason why someone has been deported). The number rose likewise for Romanians: 100 of them were deported in 2024, in comparison with 60 in 2020, according to DTenV.

Most unsheltered people who get deported have usually spent several years on the streets and struggle with various addictions. Barbara Smietana works for the Barka Foundation, a Polish NGO helping the unsheltered in several European countries, including the Netherlands, and visits soon-to-be-deported Poles in the Rotterdam Detention Centre (Detentiecentrum Rotterdam, or DCR). There, “I haven’t met a person who doesn’t have serious problems,” she says. “About 90 per cent are severely addicted. Alongside addictions, many people struggle with mental health issues that don’t allow them to assess their situation realistically.”

The Dutch policy of deportation remains controversial. Some NGOs and experts state it is shifting responsibility for the unsheltered out of the Netherlands, others see it as a chance for reintegration into society back home for the migrants. Another controversy concerns the policy’s effectiveness, given that many migrants return straight after their deportation, making use of the EU’s open borders.

We first encountered the topic of intra-EU deportations on the streets of Rotterdam while interviewing an unsheltered Pole. We set out to understand the legal basis for these removals, despite the EU’s open borders policy, and to analyse how effective a policy it is, given that people can immediately return.

In our investigation, we spoke with migration lawyers; the authorities in the Netherlands, Poland and Romania; labour and other experts; and foundations helping the unsheltered: Regenboog, Pauluskerk, Ontmoeting and Barka. We accompanied the authorities on their monthly check-ups around Rotterdam, visited homeless shelters in the Netherlands and rehabilitation centres in Poland and Romania, interviewed over 30 (ex-)homeless and five deportees, and reviewed three deportation notices.

Deportation procedures

Krystian and his partner lived in accommodation provided by the temporary work agencies that employed them at the time. He worked as an order-picker or machine operator, in total for 11 different agencies. The rent was taken out of their salaries by the agency, upfront for a week.

“Oftentimes, there was no work for us,” he explains, meaning they had to pay for the agency housing even though they had no income that week. Other times, they had to vacate the place because he had gotten into a fight with another inhabitant. “It wasn’t always my fault but it didn’t matter. [For the housing coordinators] there were always two people responsible.”

“We’d end up on the street and had to start again from zero,” he says. Together with his partner, they would then look for a new agency while living unsheltered in a town in the south of the Netherlands (which he prefers not to name).

During their time on the streets, Krystian and his partner got written up by the authorities well over 10 times, for sleeping rough or drinking alcohol in public places. Once, the enforcement officers registered a nuisance of blocking traffic because they were sitting inside the train station to warm up. “It was absurd,” Krystian states. “I knew we were treated unfairly. But as a homeless person, I’m always in a losing position. I’m the lowest societal form, I can’t say much to an enforcement officer. We just moved to another place.”

When they were robbed and lost their identity documents, Krystian knew that getting off the streets would be even harder. But he was too ashamed to go back to his family in Poland. “I was the guy who came back from abroad with money and now I was supposed to go back empty-handed. I was just too embarrassed.”

After being written up again by enforcement officers, he and his partner received notice that they would be deported. He threw away that letter – social workers explain that many of those who are to be deported do this, believing that their problem will disappear with the letter.

Yet in February, Krystian and his partner were picked up off the streets by the authorities and driven to the Rotterdam Detention Centre, where they spent two weeks before being deported.

The Dutch Aliens Police, Identification and Human Trafficking unit (AVIM) is responsible for delivering deportation decisions in person to the unsheltered migrants and notes the delivery date. The letters are in Dutch and should be explained with a translator’s help. They contain no address, there’s only “Reached in person” written at the top. The letters state the person “does not have a lawful residence under EU law” and they have 28 days to leave the country. The migrant can object to the decision, in writing and in Dutch, within this time.

After the 28-day period, the migrant’s file goes to the repatriation service, which is responsible for carrying out the deportations. Their status will be marked “removable”.

The Dutch authorities don’t specifically check whether every migrant has left the country. However, if they are found on the streets after 28 days, they can be immediately transferred to a detention centre and deported. “These people are often already known to the police, so it’s a cat-and-mouse game,” Niek Vollebergh, a migration lawyer, explains.

NGOs working with the unsheltered talk of “losing” people – at some point, an EU migrant they were assisting or seeing in their shelter will disappear, meaning in all likelihood they have been deported. From their observations, about 70 per cent of deportees are Poles, with Romanians making up about 12 per cent. The rest are Bulgarian or Lithuanian, although BIRN has also heard of Finns or even Germans. The percentages are roughly in proportion to the total migrant populations: with over 194,000 citizens, Poles constitute by far the largest EU group living in the Netherlands. Approximately 40,000 Romanians live there.

Nuisances

EU law ensures free movement of people between member states, but requires that EU citizens have the means to sustain themselves in another country if they stay for more than three months. Host states aren’t allowed to investigate whether someone has those means without a reason. Therefore, several Dutch cities, for example Rotterdam or Tilburg, actively collect nuisance reports to build up files on EU citizens living there. Susanna van Grieken from the IND lists such nuisances: having no permanent residence, sleeping on the street, rummaging through trash bins, or begging. If the police collect several such cases within a short period, it can pass the file to the IND.

“Based on the nuisance, the IND may initiate an investigation into whether someone is still legally resident,” van Grieken explains. EU migrants can object to an IND decision, but the service says that only 14 per cent of the “nuisance-causing” migrants have done that over the past few years.

EU citizens have an automatic right of residence as long as they meet the conditions, which differs from the residence permit for third country citizens that is granted or not. Therefore, the most common legal advice for objecting is that the migrant has found work.

“I always advise my clients to try to fulfil the EU’s requirements. Find work, get an income, then you automatically have the right to stay. It’s even enough to show that you’re actively looking for work,” Vollebergh, the migration lawyer, explains.

Yet, objections are rarely upheld. “If we think someone will be able to return to work next month, we certainly don’t make that decision [to terminate their stay]. The people involved have often truly deteriorated, became addicted to alcohol or drugs, and it’s in their best interest to return [to their home countries],” van Grieken states.

Being a nuisance can trigger a legal case for deportation, and deportation in turn aims to reduce nuisances. “What we’re doing doesn’t solve the problem [of homelessness],” van Grieken explains. “It needs to be addressed at the root, but ending the migrants’ residence helps keep the nuisances under control.”

The Netherlands recorded 33,000 unsheltered adults as of January 1, 2024. The true number is thought to be much higher, since EU migrant workers are often not registered with the municipality and are therefore not included in the statistics.

FEANTSA, the European federation of NGO’s fighting homelessness, is highly critical of the Dutch deportations policy. Simona Barbu, policy officer responsible for migration, explains: “A policy that targets everyone in a certain situation is per se problematic. According to EU law, you can’t use homelessness as a condition for expulsion. It’s a policy that’s not in line with EU law,” Barbu says.

FEANTSA has accused the Dutch government of “transferring” homelessness between EU countries and called on it to solve the issue within its territory. “Both countries have a responsibility. Free movement should be available for all, regardless of their income or situation,” Barbu states.Temporary work agencies Experts point out that the role the Dutch state plays in the homelessness of EU migrants is often overlooked. Most migrants come to the Netherlands to work through temporary work agencies, in a system that’s all too often abusive. “Homelessness is a social problem, not a legal one,” Sandra Mantu, a migration law expert at Radboud University, says. “The Dutch state has allowed this abusive system that is the source of [homelessness-related] problems to flourish.” Arjen Leerkes, professor of sociology at Erasmus University Rotterdam specialising in migration, echoes her statement: “As a country, we benefit from the migrants, but we do not guarantee them equal treatment or protection.” “I was devastated by my situation so I started abusing alcohol again,” Krystian says. He’s long been aware of his addiction and there was a time previously when he was sober for five and a half years. But in the Netherlands, “every time I lost a job, I kept telling myself that this time it will get better. I lived with this false hope. Eventually I didn’t have the energy to lie to myself. It was a constant downfall.” The poor working and living conditions are a perfect breeding ground for such addictions. Short-term contracts, minimum wages and tying housing with work offer migrants no stability. Cristina Popescu is a trauma coach trained as a psychologist who works with migrants from Central and Eastern Europe. “In the Netherlands, it’s extremely easy to become addicted to drugs,” she explains. Dealers approach migrants on the streets but they also come to agency houses, multiple sources informed us. “Some agencies know and tolerate this because people work extra on amphetamines,” Popescu adds. Martyna Wilinska worked as a housing coordinator for two temporary work agencies. “As long as people show up to work, the agency wants to keep them because they are pure profit,” she says. “If you have a muscular guy who can flip 10 tonnes of, say, spices, in a day while regular workers do 7 tonnes maximum, it doesn’t matter if he takes drugs, offends his housemates, or gets into fights. The agency will keep him until the situation gets really bad.” Wilinska adds that if, during hiring, she would notice that someone has substance abuse issues, she would offer him poor accommodation: a smelly house with furniture in bad condition. The agency, she says, did such ‘clustering’ to prevent other, nicer locations getting damaged by addicted workers. But it also meant that addictions would only be aggravated, as people would have drinking and using buddies. Not waking up for work or calling in sick means losing both work and housing, since the contracts are coupled, despite legal attempts to change this. Homelessness then becomes “a combination between being without a job, without having any social support or a social life, and having an alcohol abuse background,” Popescu explains. “Nowhere before have I reached such a low as in the Netherlands,” Krystian admits. “I know for sure I will never go back to that country because of what I saw there. A person doesn’t matter, what matters is how long you’ll be productive at work. Nobody gives a damn what happens to you afterwards, and that’s why there are so many homeless, including Poles.”

Lack of coordination

Leerkes of Erasmus University Rotterdam points out he is not aware of any reintegration policies in migrant home countries upon deportation. While such policies exist for (ex-)prisoners or voluntary returnees, aside from the handful of people getting help through charitable foundations, most migrants that are returned to their home country are on their own.

Collaboration on a national level is currently non-existent. DTenV told BIRN that “contact with the authorities of the country of origin is in principle not necessary to carry out the departure”. Home country institutions are only contacted if the migrant has lost their travel documents or are in urgent medical situations. We exchanged emails with the Polish and Romanian authorities, namely the consulates in the Hague, the Border Guard, police, foreign and interior ministries – each body informed us that the issue lies beyond their competences.

Other EU countries like Austria, France and Germany have also deported EU citizens. However, there is no EU-wide monitoring of internal transfers. The statistics body Eurostat answered that it “unfortunately” does not have any data on the phenomenon. No other EU organisation seems to collect this data either.

“Part of the problem is there is no obligation to collect this data under EU law,” says the migration researcher Mantu. “It would be useful to have a clearer picture of member states’ practices. The commission should have an interest in this as the guardian of the EU directive on free movement.”

New approach

The persistent returning of deportees became such a big issue that the Dutch Ministry of Justice decided to try to tackle the problem differently. DTenV has already been financing the Barka Foundation’s program of voluntary returns. From December 2024, Barka can offer the deported comprehensive rehabilitation in their home countries.

A three-person Barka team visits the Rotterdam Detention Centre every week and offers the soon-to-be-deported help back in their home countries. In Poland, the deported can go to Barka’s own rehabilitation centres in and around Poznan. In Romania, Barka partners up with NGOs such as Parada Samusocial. In both countries, the scheme is similar: first, the deported get their basic needs, such as housing, insurance and documents, sorted out. They can access addiction therapy – there are options from six weeks to over a year. The approach is tailored for each person and Barka hires a set of professionals – psychotherapists, work counsellors, lawyers – to provide as comprehensive help as possible. The goal is for the migrants, eventually, to start living independently and to seek employment.

“I knew that with Barka, I could stand on my own two feet again and deal with my alcohol issue. I’ve been sober for half a year now. I am aware that I will remain an alcoholic for the rest of my life, but I want to use all tools given to me in therapy,” Krystian explains.

Participation in the program is voluntary. Smietana coordinates the program in the detention centre in Rotterdam and visits the people in there herself. From December 2024 until the end of June 2025, Smietana spoke with 110 deportees. Over 20 of them, including Krystian, joined the program and are still part of the rehabilitation process. Eighteen others asked Barka to help them reconnect with their families in Poland. “Thirty-eight out of 110 is a high percentage of people interested in getting help,” Smietana assesses.

She’s seen 10 others return to the Netherlands and, later, to the detention centre in Rotterdam. Barka doesn’t know about the fate of the rest. Some people have prison sentences awaiting them in Poland or Romania, so they are jailed upon arrival.

The Rotterdam Detention Centre visits and subsequent rehabilitation are financed by the Dutch Ministry of Justice. After the extension of the Rotterdam Detention Centre visits with an extra 100,000 euros in funding, the whole program will last until October 2027.

Returning again and again

The EU’s open borders mean that deportees can arrive in their home country and immediately take the next bus back to the Netherlands. We spoke with several people who have returned to the Netherlands four or five times.

“There is one case where an EU citizen has been deported more than 20 times but keeps returning,” van Grieken from the IND shares. “We have now agreed with our partners to look at a different solution in this persistent case, because this one apparently isn’t working.”

If someone returns, they will usually stay until they come into contact with the authorities and are then immediately put in detention for deportation. If they still have their passport, they can find work, since an employer is not empowered to know about their residence status. Finding work means they can legalise their stay again.

However, most of those who return end up again on the streets. Social workers explain that homelessness and addiction are a “vicious cycle”. If someone has been homeless in the Netherlands for a long time, they have companions on the streets and it becomes a familiar environment. Besides, many unsheltered people we spoke to stated that it’s easier to be homeless in the Netherlands than in their home country: shelters accept people under the influence and the deposit system for cans and bottles helps to generate some income.

There are also cultural factors at play. “Eastern Europeans are not so obedient,” Smietana from Barka states. “If a Dutch person hears that they need to leave a country, they would rather leave. But Eastern Europeans can be contrarian, they have their own ways and won’t obey orders so easily. I think this is a big reason as to why people come back after deportation.”

The Dutch government has no power to deny re-entry to the Netherlands to EU citizens who have been deported, acknowledges the DTenV. Only if the person is a severe threat to society can they be deemed ‘unwanted’, which makes their stay in the country illegal.

Mantu points out that the returns aren’t a problem per se: “The EU directive considers expulsion to be very serious, so an entry ban is only reserved for more serious threats. When somebody lacks resources to sustain himself, he’s not considered a serious threat. So, if you can go back after a deportation and get a job, you should. It’s part of the mechanism of free movement.”

Each removal generates costs for the Dutch authorities, given that the enforcement agency has to transport the person to the detention centre, sustain their stay there, and pay the plane ticket, yet again. DTenV states it cannot calculate the costs of the deportation process per person, because “it depends on too many factors, such as nationality, reason for deportation, and whether an escort is needed”. In 2024, DTenV said it spent 8.7 million euros on returning some 6,000 people, without detention costs. However, this number includes non-EU citizens.

“This is a big waste of money, because you repatriate [EU citizens] to a country without borders – and they come back,” Popescu explains.

A chance, potentially

Although deportation is a forced procedure, some social workers who help the unsheltered regard the policy as potentially helpful. “Deportation can be a chance to break the vicious cycle, given that there’s an offer for the deportees back home. If people are just arrested, deported and then come back like a boomerang, without changing anything, that’s a pity and a waste of their potential,” Magdalena Mitov, director of Barka’s Dutch branch, explains.

The trauma coach Popescu points out that the people who manage to stay sober are those who go back home and undergo rehab in their own language and culture: “It doesn’t work in any other way – the Dutch rehab doesn’t fit with the Eastern Europeans.”

During his time in Poznan, Krystian has been going to the gym regularly and learning German. “I have my goals that I try to stick to. I want to focus on the coming three months, realise these goals, and then make new ones. Step-by-step, every three months. And suddenly a year passes and I will have lived normally. Being sober for one day won’t change anything, but 365 days can change my life,” he says.

However, experts call for more structural approaches. FEANTSA, the European federation of NGO’s fighting homelessness, advocates for cooperation between countries upon deportation. “The embassies should have a role. This would help to avoid abuses and to make sure there is a proper follow-up once people are back to their [home] country,” Barbu states.

Besides, without tackling the abusive system of temporary work agencies, the problem of homeless Central and Eastern Europeans will persist. “European law works well. As an EU citizen, you can stay in another member state but you can’t put pressure on the social welfare system, so you need to earn your income. That’s a pretty reasonable request,” migration lawyer Vollebergh states.

“That is, as long as there’s no abuse, when employers don’t make use of economic differences within the EU for their own gain. This often goes wrong in the Netherlands,” he points up.

*Name has been changed.