Monday, 27 July 2026

Reconciling data protection and ‘new media’: The judgment in Legal Newsdesk Sweden (Case C-199/24)

 


 

Lorna Woods, Professor Emerita, University of Essex

 

Photo credit: Océanos y dados, via Wikimedia commons

 

Introduction

This case deals with one of the perennial questions that has faced legal regimes which recognise special treatment for journalism and new media since the advent of “new media”, that is, how far are such exceptions and preferential treatment extended? While a question for individual States to balance the freedom of expression concerns with other rights and societal interests, for the EU there is also the fact that Member States seemingly take very different approaches.  The Swedish rules, the subject of this case, provide broad protections and exemptions from data protection rules; but are they compatible with the GDPR?

 

The Facts

The case originated when ND, who had been convicted a criminal offence, sought to have details of that offence removed from the database provided, for a fee, by Legal Newsdesk Sweden.  The database allows individuals and businesses to search for those who have been subject to criminal prosecution before a Swedish court. ND’s request for erasure of the data was not met and ND sought damages for failure to comply with data protection rules. Legal Newsdesk Sweden relied on a Swedish law exempting journalism from the GDPR, and the fact that the relevant authority had granted Legal Newsdesk Sweden a certificate confirming the protection applied (utgivningsbevis). Further this meant that the only remedies available to ND against Legal Newsdesk Sweden would be criminal prosecution or civil claims for defamation.

 

The Questions

The case revolved around the Swedish law’s compatibility with the GDPR and specifically whether the rules fell within the space created by Article 85. Article 85 provides:

 

(1) Member States shall by law reconcile the right to the protection of personal data pursuant to this Regulation with the right to freedom of expression and information, including processing for journalistic purposes and the purposes of academic, artistic or literary expression.

 

(2) For processing carried out for journalistic purposes or the purpose of academic artistic or literary expression, Member States shall provide for exemptions or derogations from Chapter II (principles), Chapter III (rights of the data subject), Chapter IV (controller and processor), Chapter V (transfer of personal data to third countries or international organisations), Chapter VI (independent supervisory authorities), Chapter VII (cooperation and consistency) and Chapter IX (specific data processing situations) if they are necessary to reconcile the right to the protection of personal data with the freedom of expression and information.

 

The national court referred three questions around the scope of Article 85(1) and (2) and their relationship to one another:

 

Is the list in Article 85(2) exhaustive or does Article 85(1) allow member States to adopt legislative measures in relation to further categories of activity?

 

Does the Swedish approach of limiting the remedies available to a person to criminal proceedings or defamation find an appropriate balance between freedom of expression and data protection?

Can the making available of information based on public documents in a database for a fee  without any processing or editing constitute processing of personal data for the purposes identified in Article 85(2) (specifically journalistic purposes)?

 

Judgment

As regards the first question, the Court held that the right to derogation from data protection rules applies only in relation to the categories enumerated in Article 85(2). The Court noted that Article 85(1) establishes a general rule about reconciliation of freedom of expression and GDPR requirements, but Article 85(2) operationalises it.  Although the term "including" confirms that journalistic, academic, artistic, and literary processing are only part of that reconciliation, paragraph 1 in itself does not grant independent exemption authority; that is the role of Article 85(2). The requirement to provide exceptions only applies to those exceptions listed. Exceptions are interpreted narrowly, and taking this approach provides a “fair balance”, as required by the principle of proportionality, between Charter rights.

 

As regards the second question, Article 85(2) lists the rights that may be limited, and that list does not include the rights to remedies provided for in the GDPR.  While there is Member State procedural autonomy, the GDPR confers directly effective rights and they can only be limited by conditions found in the GDPR. This means limitations such as those found in the Swedish law are not compatible with the GDPR.

 

The third question concerned whether the provision of the database constituted processing of personal data for journalistic purposes.  The Court confirmed, first, that the making available of documents to the public constituted processing. That exemptions were to be provided if necessary to provide the balance specified in Article 85(1). Moreover, the definition of journalism from Article 9 Directive 95/46 was in principle transposable to inform the concept of journalistic purposes, which was not otherwise defined, for the GDPR.  The Court referred to the definition in Satskunnan Markkinaporsii and Satamedia (Case C-73/07):

 

“disclosure to the public of information, opinions or ideas, irrespective of the medium which is used to transmit them”.

 

The Court also referred to Recital 153 GDPR which emphasises that the term should be interpreted broadly. The Court, however, continued to say it

 

“cannot cover all forms of expression but must be understood in a way that takes into account what differentiates, from the point of view of the manner in which they are created, journalistic expression from other forms of expression” [para 64]

 

The Court then referred to the case law of the European Court of Human Rights on protection of journalism within freedom of expression (Article 10 ECHR). From this body of jurisprudence, the CJEU identified three aspects:

  • carrying out the role of editing or adapting material, or publishing according to an editorial line or policy;
  • verification of factual claims for reliability; and
  • compliance with journalistic ethics.

 

The Court suggested that a service that simply makes criminal convictions available to anyone willing to pay, without editorial review or processing, is unlikely to satisfy those requirements.  The Court did emphasise that when the protections apply, they apply also to prior research as to publication.  So convictions can be useful raw material for journalists, but the processing is for  journalistic purposes only if those documents are used exclusively for such activity.

 

Commentary

This judgment is a strong defence of data protection and the coherence of the GDPR regime.  The main point of interest in this judgment is the Court’s approach to journalistic purposes. Before discussing that, it is also worth noting that in the Court’s approach to the relationship between Article 85(1) and 85(2), it has taken an approach with favours maximum harmonisation rather than allowing too much space for Member States to go their separate ways.  This re-emphasises the supremacy of EU law, and the narrowness of exceptions thereto, even when States’ individual constitutions are in issue. It is arguably a narrow interpretation of Article 85.  There is a question of how the balance that the Court has struck in Article 85(1) might impact other forms of data processing that impact the public information sphere – what for example, about search engines (already the subject of some jurisprudence: Case C-136/17 GC et al and Case C-460/20 TU and RE v Google), social media and – increasingly – chatbots?

 

Rights are a theme throughout this judgment but it is interesting to note that while the rights which the Swedish rules sought to limit were those relating to remedies, the Court did not rely on the right to a remedy as a fundamental right to support its argument. Rather, it relied on the fact that these were directly effective rights derived from the GDPR. The concern was the priority of EU legislative objectives over national concerns.

 

The main significance is the establishment of a three stage test for “journalistic purposes” which had hitherto been undefined.  The previous position had been established in Satamedia, and further elaborated in Google Spain (Case C-131/12) and Buivids (Case C-345/17), all of which seemed to be orientated towards elaborating the idea of informing the public which is the base of the definition in Satamedia.  It is arguable, that Legal Newsdesk Sweden’s activities might not fall within the scope of this definition anyway – though the position was certainly unclear. In identifying further criteria, however, the Court has provided more clarity and likely narrowed the scope of the journalistic purposes exception.  It is interesting to note that the Court has taken cases about the level or protection awarded to journalists within the ECHR jurisprudence to identify qualifying criteria for being a journalist (of carrying out journalistic purposes) in the GDPR context- a shift from assessing how to identifying who. Whether this shift is significant in practical terms is rather uncertain – both Courts seem to be asking if the person is behaving according to relevant standards to gain the benefits of extra protection (and neither require institutional affiliation as a precondition of receiving the status).

 

While the focus in the case was just about resale of public information without any amendment, contextualisation or commentary (and possibly data brokerage generally including digital archives, research platforms, aggregators, and people-search services), the implications go further and impact “citizen journalists”, bloggers, gossip sites and other public communicators who might have assumed that they would benefit from protections, even though they might also not have bothered with fact checking and ethical considerations around news-gathering and publication. While they might have argued that they contributed to informing society, now there are more specific and arguably less vague requirements to satisfy – those around verification and ethics. Although this is a narrowing of their protections, it does not mean such speakers are off air – it means that they have to pay more attention to how they acquire and retell stories.  It is also important to note that the Court has not as a point of principle excluded private actors (rather than those earning a living from journalist) from the scope of state protections, and nor does the fact that such activities are done for money affect the assessment of whether they are done for journalistic purposes or not. And, of course, traditional journalism and media are not affected by this ruling.

 

One final point is also clear: the Swedish system will require significant overhaul if it is to comply with GDPR requirements.

From recognition to positive obligations: the ECJ’s judgment in Shipov (C-43/24)

 


 

By Marzia Genovese, Postdoctoral Lecturer and Researcher in Public Law at the European Documentation and Research Centre of the University of Pau (France).

Photo: Bulgaria Palace of Justice; photo credit Bim in Garten via Wikimedia Commons

      I.         Introduction

In K.M.H. v Obshtina Stara Zagora (Shipov, C-43/24), the Grand Chamber of the Court of Justice of the European Union (ECJ) held that Article 21 TFEU and Article 4(3) of Directive 2004/38, read in the light of Article 7 of the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the EU, preclude national legislation that does not permit a transgender Union citizen to amend certain data recorded in civil-status registers. The judgment builds upon the Court’s recent decision in Mirin and forms part of a broader line of case law concerning the relationship between free movement rights, personal status and gender identity.

The decision will likely be welcomed as a further step in the protection of transgender Union citizens exercising their free movement rights, yet the lines of reasoning adopted by both the Court and the Advocate General (AG) raise a number of conceptual and constitutional questions that remain insufficiently explored.

This contribution argues that Shipov marks a significant development in the evolution of Article 21 TFEU. Unlike Mirin, the case did not involve the recognition of a legal status previously acquired in another Member State. Instead, the Court used Article 21 TFEU to impose a positive obligation affecting the organisation of national civil-status law itself. At the same time, it does so through reasoning that leaves several conceptual and constitutional questions unresolved. In particular, the Court employs notions such as sex, gender and gender identity, without clearly identifying the legal category that Member States are required to recognise or modify. Additionally, the Court’s reasoning raises broader questions regarding the practical scope of Member State autonomy in matters of civil status.

The discussion proceeds in four steps. It first examines the conceptual uncertainty underlying the judgment. It then considers the shift from mutual recognition to self-standing positive obligations under Article 21 TFEU, before analysing the limitations of the AG’s reasoning as well. Finally, it reflects on the implications of Shipov for the relationship between Union citizenship and national competence in matters of civil status.

II. Conceptual ambiguity: what exactly must be changed?

One of the most striking features of Shipov is the conceptual ambiguity underlying the Court’s judgment. Throughout the proceedings, a number of distinct notions appear interchangeably, such as sex, gender and gender identity. Yet neither the Court nor the Advocate General clearly explain the legal relationship between these concepts or identify with precision which of them forms the object of the obligation imposed on Member States.

Such an obligation necessarily presupposes the identification of the legal category to be modified. Is EU law requiring the recognition of a person’s gender identity, the amendment of legal gender or the modification of civil-status records relating to sex? The judgment offers no clear answer.

The ambiguity culminates in the operative part of the judgment, where the Court refers to “data relating to gender, such as sex” (paras 36 and 56). This formulation is difficult to reconcile with a coherent conceptual framework. If sex and gender are distinct categories, as the Court itself appears to assume throughout the proceedings and it is also scientifically established, the judgment fails to explain why they can be treated as interchangeable for the purposes of civil-status registration. Conversely, if the two concepts are understood as functionally equivalent, the Court never justifies the use of separate terminology throughout its reasoning and moves fluidly between references to sex, gender identity and personal appearance without clarifying the legal significance of each concept.

This ambiguity is not merely semantic. It has direct implications for legal certainty. Member States remain, in principle, competent in matters of civil status. If EU law nevertheless requires them to modify certain entries contained in civil-status records, they must be able to determine with reasonable clarity and certainty which legal category is affected and what precisely must be recognised. By treating distinct dimensions as largely interchangeable, the Court risks obscuring the precise basis of the obligation imposed on Member States.

Moreover, the Court’s treatment of intersex and transgender persons illustrates the conceptual difficulties underlying the judgment (para 22). In assessing the Bulgarian legal framework, the Court appears to rely on the fact that national law permits the amendment of civil-status records in certain situations involving intersex persons whilst excluding such amendments for transgender persons. Yet the comparability of those situations is largely assumed rather than demonstrated.

This omission is significant. Intersex variations and transgender identity raise distinct legal and factual questions. The former concern biological conditions that may affect the classification of sex at the time of birth and, consequently, the accuracy of the original civil-status registration. The latter concern the recognition of a gender identity emerging after birth and whose legal implications are conceptually different from the correction of an allegedly inaccurate birth record. The Court does not explain why these situations should be treated as comparable for the purposes of civil-status registration, nor why legal solutions developed in one context should necessarily apply in the other.

Whether the situations ought ultimately to be treated alike is therefore not the central issue. The difficulty lies in the absence of a clear comparability analysis. By moving between different categories without defining the legal relevance of each of them, the judgment further reinforces the conceptual ambiguity already present elsewhere in its reasoning.

This difficulty is compounded by a second and arguably more fundamental question: does Shipov fit within the logic of the Court’s earlier citizenship case law at all?

III. From recognition to self-standing positive obligations

The Court presents Shipov as part of a broader line of case law concerning the exercise of free movement rights by Union citizens. Yet a closer examination reveals that the judgment departs in a significant respect from the logic underlying the Court’s earlier decisions on civil status.

Cases such as Grunkin-Paul, Coman and, more recently, Mirin were all built around a common premise: a legal status had already been lawfully acquired in one Member State and another Member State refused to recognise it. The obstacle to free movement arose from the coexistence of conflicting legal situations within the Union. In those circumstances, the Court relied on Article 21 TFEU to prevent Union citizens from suffering disadvantages resulting from the exercise of their right to move and reside in another Member State.

In Mirin, for example, the applicant had obtained legal recognition of his gender identity in the United Kingdom and sought recognition of that status in Romania. The Court’s intervention therefore remained rooted in a logic of mutual recognition. Romania was not required to create a new legal status; it was required to recognise one already validly established elsewhere in the Union.

Shipov presents a fundamentally different situation. The applicant had not obtained legal recognition of her gender identity in Italy or in any other Member State. No foreign administrative act, judicial decision or civil-status record existed that could serve as the object of recognition. The case therefore lacked the transnational legal element that had justified the Court’s intervention in previous cases. This distinction is not merely factual. It alters the very nature of the obligation imposed by EU law.

In the absence of any status acquired elsewhere, Bulgaria was not asked to recognise an existing legal situation. Rather, it was required to provide a mechanism through which a new legal status could be established under Bulgarian law itself. Article 21 TFEU thus ceases to operate as a principle of recognition and becomes a source of self-standing positive obligations affecting the organisation of national civil-status systems.

The significance of this shift should not be underestimated. Mutual recognition has traditionally allowed the Court to balance free movement rights with Member State autonomy. Whilst Member States remained free to determine the substantive conditions governing civil status within their own legal systems, they could not disregard legal situations lawfully established elsewhere. This logic preserved a degree of constitutional pluralism by distinguishing between the creation of legal status and its recognition.

In Shipov, however, that distinction becomes increasingly difficult to maintain. Once Article 21 TFEU is capable of generating obligations independently of any foreign status requiring recognition, the Court’s review is no longer confined to ensuring the continuity of legal situations across borders. It extends to the substantive content of national rules governing civil status. The competence formally remains national, but the outcome is increasingly shaped by EU law.

IV. The Advocate General’s ‘functional’ solution and its limits

 

If Shipov cannot be really explained through the logic of mutual recognition, a different justification is required. The AG sought to provide one by focusing on the functional role of identity documents in facilitating the exercise of free movement rights. Since identity documents play a crucial role in enabling Union citizens to move and reside freely within the Union, the Member State of nationality could not, in his view, maintain a system that prevented such documents from reflecting a person's lived gender identity.

The most problematic aspect of the Opinion, however, lies elsewhere. In paragraph 94, the AG expressly states that the original indication of the applicant’s sex should not be regarded as erroneous and should not be treated as a mistake requiring rectification. Two paragraphs later, moreover, he recalls the ECtHR’s recognition of the “historical nature” of birth records and of the continuing relevance of the sex assigned at birth for establishing facts predating gender reassignment. Yet the solution advocated by the Opinion ultimately requires the creation of a legal mechanism through which the same birth certificates may be amended in order to reflect a subsequently recognised gender identity.

The resulting tension is difficult to ignore. If the original registration was accurate and birth certificates serve, at least in part, a historical function, the Opinion never adequately explains why EU law nevertheless requires their amendment.

This tension is reinforced by the AG’s own discussion of Article 3(2) of Regulation 2025/1208. There, he acknowledges that EU law does not require Member States to include a reference to sex or gender on national identity cards and permits them to omit such information altogether, unlike the International Civil Aviation Organisation (ICAO) standards applicable to passports and other travel documents (all Member States, but not the EU, are parties to the Convention establishing the ICAO). If the objective pursued is the removal of obstacles to free movement, the necessity of amending birth certificates becomes considerably less obvious. The Opinion does not explain why that objective cannot be achieved through less intrusive means. As paragraph 82 of the Opinion makes clear, the perceived necessity of amending the birth certificate stems largely from the fact that Bulgarian identity documents are based upon that record, yet this approach risks extending the reach of Article 21 TFEU into matters that traditionally fall within Member State competence.

The AG’s functional approach thus succeeds in identifying a practical difficulty faced by the applicant, but it never convincingly explains why a birth certificate whose original entries are acknowledged to be accurate must nevertheless be altered in order to comply with EU law.

V. EU citizenship and national autonomy in matters of civil status

The preceding discussion ultimately points towards a broader constitutional issue. If Article 21 TFEU (which sets out EU citizens’ rights to move and reside freely in the EU) can require the amendment of civil-status records in the absence of any foreign status requiring recognition, what remains of Member State autonomy in matters of civil status?

The Court has consistently recognised that matters such as civil status, family status, names and personal identity fall, in principle, within the competence of the Member States (e.g., RuneviÄŤ-Vardyn). At the same time, however, it has repeatedly held that those competences must be exercised consistently with EU law whenever the exercise of free movement rights is affected. The tension between these two propositions lies at the heart of Shipov.

Here, the Court expressly acknowledges that the issuing of identity documents falls within the competence of the Member State of nationality (para 47), yet it immediately adds that such documents serve to enable the exercise of the rights conferred by Article 21 TFEU. Once that connection is established, national rules governing civil-status registration become subject to review in light of both free movement and the fundamental rights guaranteed by the Charter, such as Article 7 (respect for private and family life).

This dynamic is further illustrated by the ECJ’s treatment of the Bulgarian Constitutional Court’s reasoning. The latter had previously interpreted the concept of sex contained in the Bulgarian Constitution as referring exclusively to biological sex and justified its interpretative decision in light of broader moral and religious rules and principles “prevailing over the interests of transgender persons” (paras 21 and 46). The ECJ rejected those arguments as potential justifications for the restriction of free movement and ultimately reaffirmed that neither the Member State’s competence in matters of civil status nor moral and religious considerations could justify the obstacles encountered by the applicant (paras 47-48). This logic culminates in paragraph 60 of the judgment, where the ECJ reiterates that rules of national law, even of constitutional rank, cannot undermine the effectiveness of EU law.

From the perspective of EU law, this result is hardly surprising. The principle of primacy would be significantly weakened if Member States could rely upon domestic constitutional concepts to avoid obligations flowing from Union law. Nevertheless, Shipov illustrates how the progressive expansion of Article 21 TFEU may affect the practical scope of Member State autonomy in areas that formally remain within national competence. This point is particularly significant when considered alongside the preceding sections.

To raise this concern is not to suggest that constitutional autonomy should operate as a shield against Union law. Nor is it to deny the legitimacy of protecting Union citizens against discrimination and/or unjustified obstacles to free movement. However, the broader the concept of an obstacle to free movement becomes, the greater the potential reach of EU law into areas that the Treaties continue formally to reserve to the Member States.

In this respect, Shipov may ultimately prove significant not only for legal gender recognition, but also for the constitutional development of Union citizenship itself. The judgment suggests that once a matter can be connected, even indirectly, to the exercise of free movement rights, the scope for maintaining distinct national approaches becomes increasingly narrow. Whether that development represents a natural consequence of Union citizenship or a more profound transformation of the relationship between EU law and national competences remains open to debate.

VI. Conclusion

Shipov is likely to be remembered as an important step in the Court’s case law on the rights of transgender Union citizens, yet its significance extends beyond the specific context of legal gender recognition.

The judgment suffers from a degree of conceptual ambiguity that is difficult to ignore. Throughout its reasoning, the Court moves between references to sex, gender and gender identity without clearly identifying the precise legal category that Member States are required to recognise or modify. This uncertainty is compounded by the Court’s equal treatment of intersex and transgender situations, whose comparability is largely assumed rather than demonstrated.

More fundamentally, Shipov marks an important step beyond the logic that characterised previous case law. Unlike earlier cases, no foreign legal status required recognition here. In this instance, article 21 TFEU was used not to ensure the continuity of a legal situation already established elsewhere in the Union, but to generate a positive obligation affecting the organisation of national civil-status law in circumstances where the transnational element appeared particularly weak. The AG’s attempt to justify that result through the functional role of identity documents is ultimately unpersuasive, not least because it fails to explain why birth certificates whose original entries are acknowledged to be accurate must nevertheless be amended in order to facilitate free movement.

Ultimately, the most significant issue raised by Shipov may not concern legal gender recognition at all, but the limits of Article 21 TFEU itself. Once the latter is capable of generating substantive obligations in areas formally falling within Member State competence, the distinction between the recognition of legal status and its creation becomes increasingly difficult to maintain. Whether the Court has provided a sufficiently clear and principled justification for that evolution remains an open question.

Friday, 17 July 2026

Flight from Ukraine: A Proposal for Transition out of the EU Temporary Protection Scheme

 


 

Professor Kees Groenendijk, Radboud University, Emeritus and Professor Elspeth Guild, University of Liverpool

 

Photo credit: Dietmar Rabich / Wikimedia Commons / “MĂĽnster, Stadtweinhaus, Beflaggung Ukraine und EU -- 2022 -- 0219” / CC BY-SA 4.0

 

On 3 March 2022 the EU legislator, for the first time, opened a temporary protection scheme under Directive 2001/55 for those fleeing the Russian invasion of Ukraine. While the Directive limits the duration of any scheme to three years maximum, the EU legislator has already extended the scheme to five years and is currently reflecting on where to go next. The validity of the extra extension has already been considered by Peers, Ineli-Ciger and others and for the moment the Court of Justice has yet to be asked. 

In the meantime, the war in Ukraine continues. Some have assessed that at the current rate of progress, it would take Russia centuries and tens of millions of deaths to succeed in occupying Ukraine. It seems that Ukrainian attacks in Russia are causing havoc and the Ukrainian military is holding up and diversifying its strategy. There is little or no news about any peace negotiations. Last year Eurostat advised that 4.31 million non-EU citizens who fled Ukraine as a consequence of the Russian war of aggression against Ukraine had a temporary protection status in the EU. The number is unlikely to have diminished since then. Many of these people arrived in the EU soon after the opening of the scheme and will soon have been resident in the EU for five years.

In this blog, we examine the pressing need for a common EU approach to providing a durable status to those who are in the EU and address some of the issues which are being expressed by some Member States and EU institutions. In 2023, we examined the nature of the temporary protection scheme and the challenges for the Member States. In our contribution to Govaere and Graben The Impact of War (in Ukraine) on the EU Hart, 2025) we examined the options available to the EU legislator and Member States regarding the long term status of beneficiaries of the Temporary Protection scheme. At that time we strongly recommended that there would need to be an EU wide scheme to bring these persons into a stable and permanent status. We proposed a number of options, from the most liberal – a modified free movement of persons regime with Ukraine in the context of the EU-Ukraine enlargement procedures to the most limited a special scheme limited to those who are already reaching the end of the scheme’s life span. 

What we did not expect at the time of writing was that the EU legislator would simply continue to extend the scheme notwithstanding the express limit in the directive to three years. But this has been the policy option for the moment. 

In September 2025, a Council Recommendation proposed that there be a transition into national or EU legal statuses for those currently benefitting from temporary protection. Few, however, have managed to do so. problem is the numbers. In 2024, according to Eurostat  the Member States managed to issue 3.5 million first residence permits to non-EU citizens. Adding 4.31 million applications to change status or be issued a new permit in a different status would undoubtedly cause consternation to the officials charged with the task. Further, as we argued before, unless there is a common EU status for temporary protection beneficiaries any differences in treatment could result in them moving among the Member States in search of greater stability.

In one of the most important destination states for temporary protection beneficiaries the following information is available: according to the Central Alien’s Registration a total of 1,346,200 displaced persons from Ukraine were living in Germany on 30 April 2026, more than 96% having Ukrainian nationality. 88% received a residence permit for temporary protection under Directive 2001/5 and §24 of the Aufenthaltsgesetz, 7% applied for that residence permit but their applications are still pending, and 2% applied for international protection. The remaining 3% did not apply for either temporary or international protection. According to the same source, 467,100 displaced persons from Ukraine who came to Germany between February 2022 and 31 December 2025, were no longer living in Germany at that date (or have otherwise disappeared from the register). Thus, a quarter of the displaced persons who came to Germany after the Russian war of aggression no longer live in that member state. Apparently, few displaced persons received a national or an EU-residence permit instead or in addition to their temporary protection status.

In light of these pressing issues and the difficulty which the EU legislator is having with the question, we are now revisiting the subject with a view to providing a clear action plan to provide these people with security while assuaging concerns of some Member States.

When the EU legislator first addressed the issue of security of residence for third country nationals resident in the EU it adopted a directive in 2003. Having commissioned research on the normal period of residence Member States require for third country nationals to spend in a state before enjoying security of residence, the EU legislator alighted on the period of five years as the most appropriate to ensure genuine integration and fair treatment to resident third country nationals. The same time period should be applicable also to temporary protection beneficiaries on the basis of the same arguments.

In light of the difficulties of the EU legislator to adapt any existing measure to resolve the pressing need to provide certainty and security of residence of Ukraine temporary protection beneficiaries we now propose the following course of action.

The Proposal and Adoption of a new EU legal instrument

The Commission should propose a new legal instrument based on Article 79(2)(a) and (b) TFEU consisting of the following five essential elements:

1. Beneficiaries of temporary protection from Ukraine who have resided legally in an EU Member State for five years retain the rights they acquired under Directive 2001/55/EC or under national law in that Member State. The transition should be fully automatic.

2. Member States may not introduce new restrictions on the right of residence, the access to (self-)employment, and access to general and vocational education applicable to the persons referred to in point 1.

3. Member States may withdraw a right of residence acquired under point 1 only on the exclusion grounds listed in Article 28 of Directive 2001/55/EC, the grounds relating to public policy, public security or public health listed in Article 27 of Directive 2004/38/EC, or in case the person has not been present in the territory of the European Union for a period of 12 consecutive months (cfr. Article 9(1)(c) of Directive 2003/109/EC).

After five years of lawful residence (and employment during part of those five years) termination of residence on economic grounds is no longer permitted. [cfr. for third-country nationals with an EU long-term residence permit, according to Article 12(2) of Directive 2003/109/EC, and for Union citizens, according to Article 16(4) of Directive 2004/38/EC.]

4. In case of the loss of the right of residence pursuant to point 3, the rights under Directive 2001/55/EC are reacquired. In case the temporary protection for beneficiaries from Ukraine has come to an end,  the national law of the Member State shall apply to the third country nationals mentioned in the first sentence.

5. Member States have the right to adopt or maintain more favorable provisions.

Three Main Aims

Establishing an almost uniform transitional residence status at EU level, as long as no other more stable and durable residence status is acquired under EU or national law, would serve three aims: (1) granting secure residence rights would on the one hand promote the integration of those wanting to remain in their Member State of residence and (2) on the other hand support the voluntary return of those considering return to Ukraine by explicitly allowing for absence from the EU up to twelve months. (3) The third aim is the reduction of administrative burden through the quasi-automatic acquisition of durable  residence rights after five years of temporary protection.

The majority of temporary protection beneficiaries from Ukraine entered their host Member States in 2022. By 2027, these individuals will have resided legally in that Member State for five years on the basis of Directive 2001/55/EC. From mid-2027, the abovementioned transitional EU residence status should will be acquired gradually and automatically on the basis of EU law without an application or a decision by an administrative authority. The likelihood of large numbers of asylum procedures and the associated burden on asylum authorities and, potentially, the courts will be reduced, whilst the continued protection needs remain guaranteed at the level provided in Directive 2001/55/EC. The second sentence of Article 8(1) of that directive, concerning documents to be issued, will continue to apply, pursuant to point 1. 

Further Explanation

The proposed regulation utilizes elements of the residence status of third-country nationals with an EU long-term residence permit under Directive 2003/109/EC and the status of EU citizens under Directive 2004/38/EC. The proposed scheme also serves Ukraine's interests regarding the voluntary return of Ukrainian citizens and represents a preferential treatment of Ukrainian citizens under EU migration law, compatible with Ukraine’s status of candidate member state, without requiring Ukraine's membership in the European Union or establishing EU citizenship for Ukrainian citizens. The scheme does not provide for more intra-EU mobility with this durable residence right than under the Temporary Protection Directive before acquisition of the EU-long term residents’ permit or Union citizenship.

The scheme clarifies that, after five years of lawful residence in a Member State, deportation to Ukraine is only possible in exceptional individual cases and that the war refugees and their families are part of Europe. Individual review by immigration authorities only in cases of loss of the durable residence right. Reunification with family members from Ukraine or family members living in other Member States would be governed by Article 15 of Directive 2001/55/EC, the Family Reunification Directive 2003/86/EC, or, in case those the relevant provisions of those two instruments are not applicable, by national law. Pursuant to point 1 of the proposed new instrument, the right to apply for asylum, confirmed in Article 17 TPD will continue to apply to persons with the new EU status. This transitional scheme would also apply to third-country nationals without Ukraine’s citizenship who acquired temporary protection under Directive 2001/55/EC.

At present, war refugees granted temporary protection under Directive 2001/55/EC are excluded from the personal scope of the EU Long-Term Residence Directive 2003/109/EC, the Blue Card Directive 2021/1883/EU, the Single Permit Directive 2024/1233/EU, and the Students and Researchers Directive 2016/801/EU. The proposed new EU-status is not mentioned in Articles 2 or 3 of these four directives. The exclusion clause in those four directives no longer obstructs access to employment and social inclusion in Member States on the basis of those directives. The previous residence on the basis of Directive 2001/55 counts as lawful residence for the application of those four directives.

One final remark

As long as the Russian war of aggression in Ukraine continues, Directive 2001/55/EC should be extended for (a) new war refugees from Ukraine, and (b) war refugees from Ukraine who have resided in a Member State for less than five years and are, hence not yet covered by the transitional scheme.

 

Wednesday, 15 July 2026

The Regulation of Shame: When Far-Right Ideas Become EU Return Law




Dr. Izabella MajcherIndependent Consultant

Photo credit: Shutterstock

 

*References to the Regulation's provisions reflect the agreed text at the time of writing and may change following legal-linguistic revision

Amid chants of "send them back" from some Members of the European Parliament, the Parliament adopted the EU Return Regulation on 17 June 2026 by 418 votes to 218, with 30 abstentions. Such a broad majority on legislation that would otherwise have been highly divisive was made possible by the European People's Party (EPP)'s alliance with far-right groups, breaking the political firewall traditionally maintained in several Member States. The vote drew criticism from NGOs, academics and journalists, and also prompted concern within the United Nations. Ahead of the vote, nearly 50 current and former international human rights experts issued a joint statement expressing their concerns. Following its adoption, the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights publicly expressed his deep regret.

The parliamentary vote marked the culmination of an exceptionally rapid legislative process. As announced in European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen's Political Guidelines for her second Commission, the Commission presented its proposal for a Return Regulation on 11 March 2025 (discussed here). The Council adopted its position on 8 December 2025 (discussed here), followed by the European Parliament's report on 26 March 2026 (discussed here). The subsequent interinstitutional negotiations progressed at an equal pace, culminating in the final trilogue on 1 June 2026. Once the text has undergone legal-linguistic revision, it will be published in the Official Journal of the European Union. The Regulation will become applicable one year later, replacing the Return Directive, although several provisions—including those on return hubs, preparations for the European Return Order form and readmission procedures—will apply immediately.

Given the political support from right-wing groups and the underlying objective of the proposal of increasing returns, it is unsurprising that the Regulation relies heavily on coercive measures while lowering safeguards across the board. What remains less clear is whether it will actually increase the number of returns, except perhaps at the expense of compliance with international and EU human rights standards. This blog highlights ten aspects of the Regulation that raise particularly serious human rights concerns before offering some concluding reflections.

 

1)    Return decisions and effective remedy

The Regulation introduces several changes that collectively weaken the assessment of the risk of refoulement. It allows return decisions either to omit the country of return or to designate several possible countries of return. The person need only be informed of the intended country of return sufficiently in advance of removal (Articles 7, 13 and 24). The Regulation also clarifies that Member States are not precluded from issuing a return decision where a hindrance to removal exists; where a risk of refoulement has been identified, removal to the country concerned must simply be postponed. Where the person indicates, or the authorities otherwise become aware, that removal would breach the principle of non-refoulement, the competent authorities must either refer the person to the appropriate procedure, including the asylum procedure, or assess the risk of refoulement themselves. In doing so, they may rely on or take into account any previous assessment of that risk. It is possible that the risk of refoulement is assessed by authorities issuing or enforcing a return decision.

This approach makes the right to an effective remedy all the more important. Compared with the Directive, the Regulation provides greater detail on the applicable standards (Article 26). It requires that the remedy provide for a full examination of both facts and points of law. Where material brought to the attention of the court or tribunal hearing the appeal, as supplemented or clarified through adversarial proceedings, indicates that the principle of non-refoulement may be at risk, the court or tribunal must verify compliance with the obligations arising from that principle. As regards the suspensive effect of appeals, the Regulation does not establish an automatic right to suspension. Instead, it clarifies that Member States must ensure, in full compliance with Article 47 of the Charter, that removal can be suspended before it is carried out (Article 28). Suspension may be granted upon request by the person concerned, unless national law also provides for suspension ex officio.

 

2)    Mutual recognition of return decisions

Mutual recognition of return decisions is presented as one of the Regulation's key innovations and as a part of the broader "common system for returns" (Article 42). In reality, however, the mechanism is neither new nor straightforward to implement. Under it, a Member State that apprehends a person who has already received a return decision in another Member State may recognise and enforce that decision instead of issuing a new one (Article 9). This is facilitated through a European Return Order—a standard form containing the main elements of the return decision—which is made available to Member States through the Schengen Information System. The mechanism itself is not new. It was already established by a 2001 Council Directive, although it appears to have been used only sparingly in practice. The Commission originally proposed making mutual recognition mandatory, but this approach did not receive the support of the co-legislators. As adopted, the mechanism therefore remains optional. Nevertheless, Member States are required to put in place preparatory measures, and the Commission may submit legislative proposals following an assessment to be carried out within two years of the Regulation becoming applicable. Recognising another Member State's return decision raises both practical and legal challenges. Since the grounds for lawful stay are not harmonised across the EU, a person may be in an irregular situation in one Member State but lawfully present in another. The enforcing Member State may therefore face litigation while also bearing the costs of removal and, where applicable, detention. More fundamentally, mutual recognition of return decisions and entry bans raises proportionality concerns because it exports the most restrictive national approaches across the Union, while no equivalent system exists for the mutual recognition of lawful residence statuses.

 

3)    Voluntary departure

The Regulation adopts a confusing approach to so-called voluntary departure. Under the Directive, Member States are required to grant a period for voluntary departure of between seven and thirty days, subject to three exceptions: where there is a risk of absconding, where an application for legal stay has been rejected as manifestly unfounded or fraudulent, or where the person poses a risk to public policy, public security or national security (Article 7). The Regulation removes this obligation and instead leaves Member States with a choice between granting a period for voluntary departure and requiring the person to leave immediately (Article 7). Moreover, where a period for voluntary departure is granted, it need no longer be at least seven days. These changes sit uneasily with the EU's broader approach to return, which has consistently favoured voluntary departure over forced removal and has invested considerable resources in assisted voluntary return and reintegration programmes. Indeed, the Regulation itself requires Member States to ensure the availability of return and reintegration programmes, which may be supported or financed by the EU. It further specifies that such programmes should provide a broad ranging assistance and incentives, including reintegration support (Article 46). Voluntary return is generally more conducive to a safe and dignified return and is also in the interest of Member States, given that forced removals are considerably more costly and complex to organise. Arguably, these amendments are intended primarily to signal a more coercive approach rather than to produce a significant change in practice. Even under the Directive, Member States are not required to grant a period for voluntary departure where there is a risk of absconding or concerns relating to public policy or security. Conversely, the Regulation still allows Member States to grant voluntary departure at their discretion, except for persons considered to pose security risks (see more on this category here).

 

4)    Duties and sanctions

The Regulation establishes an extensive—and at times overlapping—set of obligations for persons subject to return, raising concerns regarding legal certainty and proportionality. It introduces a general duty to cooperate (Article 21), encompassing more than a dozen specific obligations. These include appearing before third-country authorities for the issuance of travel documents or the verification of identity or nationality, and complying with third-country entry requirements, including health-related requirements. The list is open-ended, as it also incorporates obligations provided for under national law.

The Regulation also empowers Member States to impose various restrictive measures, including obligations to remain within a designated geographical area, reside at a specific address, or report periodically to those authorities (Article 23). Under international human rights law, these measures constitute restrictions on freedom of movement. Nevertheless, the Regulation does not require that they be necessary to achieve a legitimate objective. In addition, it introduces a further category of movement restrictions that may be imposed, implicitly, where there is a risk of absconding (Article 23c), including bail and electronic monitoring. Although labelled "alternatives to detention", these measures may also be imposed where detention itself would be unlawful—for example, after the maximum permissible period of detention has expired.

Failure to comply with some of these obligations may be treated as evidence of a risk of absconding, or it may directly justify detention. Other consequences include reductions in social allowances, financial penalties, extensions of entry bans and criminal sanctions, including imprisonment (Article 23b). In practice, almost any person subject to return could fail to comply with one or more of these numerous obligations, thereby exposing them to a cascade of restrictive measures and sanctions. The breadth of this regime falls short of the requirements of necessity and proportionality, leaving considerable scope for arbitrary application.

 

5)    Investigative measures

At the Council's initiative, the Regulation introduces a new category of so-called "investigative measures" (Article 23a). These measures authorise the authorities, without the person's consent, to search persons subject to return, their homes and other relevant premises, and to seize personal belongings, including electronic devices. The Regulation also permits the use of additional investigative measures provided for under national law. Searches of homes and other premises require either prior judicial authorisation or, where permitted under national law, an administrative order where the search is necessary, proportionate and duly justified by urgency. The Regulation specifies that investigative measures may be used where necessary, proportionate, and duly justified to ensure an effective return. It also requires that they respect fundamental rights and remain subject to the safeguards and remedies available under Union and national law. Nevertheless, the provision raises significant concerns in practice. It may facilitate police raids on homes, shelters and other premises accommodating or supporting people in an irregular situation, potentially relying on racial profiling and creating a climate of fear within migrant communities.

 

6)    Detention

The Regulation significantly expands the legal framework governing detention, both by broadening the grounds and by increasing its maximum duration (Article 29). Under the Directive, Member States may impose pre-removal detention on two grounds only: where there is a risk of absconding or where the person avoids or hampers the preparation of return (Article 15(1)). Unlike the Directive, the Regulation lays down detailed criteria for determining whether a person poses a risk of absconding (Article 21a). However, these criteria are drafted so broadly that most persons in an irregular situation are likely to satisfy at least one of them and, crucially, many bear little relation to the person's actual propensity to abscond. The Regulation establishes four criteria that give rise to a rebuttable presumption of a risk of absconding, including irregular entry into the territory. It further lists seven additional criteria—including the absence of a reliable address—and permits Member States to rely on criteria laid down in national law to assess the risk of absconding.

In addition to the two detention grounds contained in the Directive, the Regulation adds three further grounds. First, Member States may detain a person considered to pose a security risk, including a threat to public policy, public security, national security or any other security threat identified under national law. This broad ground blurs the distinction between administrative immigration detention and criminal detention. Given that immigration detention affords significantly fewer procedural safeguards than criminal detention, it should remain limited to grounds directly related to the enforcement of removal. Second, detention may be imposed in order to determine or verify a person's identity or nationality. This ground is particularly problematic because such procedures may take considerable time, for example, when a person is stateless, or their identity documents are not recognised. Moreover, detention may be imposed on this ground even in the absence of any risk of absconding. Third, a person may be detained for failing to comply with one of the Regulation's numerous cooperation obligations (discussed above), such as complying with carriers' travel requirements, fulfilling third countries' entry requirements, or complying with electronic monitoring requirements. Fourth, Member States may also rely on detention grounds established under their national law where these are considered necessary to ensure an effective return procedure. Leaving the determination of detention grounds to national law undermines the very objective of harmonising return-related measures across the EU.

The Regulation also dramatically extends the maximum permissible period of detention. Under the Directive, detention may last up to six months and may be extended by a further twelve months where the removal operation is delayed due to a lack of cooperation by the person concerned or the third country. Under the Regulation, the initial detention period may last up to 12 months and may then be extended by a further 12 months on the same grounds, as well as in "exceptional" circumstances provided for under national law. The resulting two-year period may be prolonged by an additional six months where there is a risk of absconding and one of three vaguely defined changes in circumstances gives rise to a reasonable prospect of removal. However, it is difficult to understand why a reasonable prospect of removal would emerge only after a person has already spent two years in detention. Such lengthy periods of detention are manifestly disproportionate and seriously undermine the fundamental right to liberty.

Finally, the Regulation weakens the safeguards requiring migrants to be detained in specialised detention facilities. This approach is at odds with the standards consistently advocated by the UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention and the European Committee for the Prevention of Torture.

 

7)    Entry bans

An entry ban is a punitive measure that links return policy with border and visa policy by preventing a person from re-entering the EU through regular channels. The Regulation significantly expands the scope of this measure (Article 10). Under the Directive, an entry ban accompanies a return decision and is mandatory where no period for voluntary departure has been granted or where the person has failed to comply with that period (Article 11). The Regulation introduces the possibility of imposing an entry ban even in the absence of a prior return decision, where a person's irregular stay is detected during exit border checks or where they leave the territory before a return decision has been issued. This new possibility is both disproportionate and highly punitive, as it penalises individuals who are attempting to leave the territory. Moreover, where no formal decision is issued, a person may not even be aware that they are subject to an entry ban and may effectively be deprived of their rights of defence and to an effective remedy. Such an approach sits uneasily with the principles of good administration and legal certainty and creates a significant risk of arbitrary decision-making. The Regulation also doubles the maximum duration of entry bans in ordinary cases, from five to ten years, and allows them to be extended to twenty years where necessary to prevent re-entry. As under the Directive, the duration of an entry ban may nevertheless be reduced, or the ban withdrawn or suspended, in individual cases. In this context, the person's private and family life established in the Member States is a key consideration.

 

8)    Children

The Regulation introduces several safeguards for unaccompanied children, including the appointment of a guardian, the right to be heard during the return procedure and a review of detention every three months (Articles 20 and 33). At the same time, however, it weakens several of the protections currently provided under the Directive. These include removing schooling from the express grounds for extending the period for voluntary departure, reducing the entitlement to education in detention to the provision of "educational activities", and no longer requiring that assistance be provided to unaccompanied children before a return decision is issued. Crucially, almost all of the Regulation's new intrusive measures—including investigative measures and restrictions on freedom of movement (discussed above) —apply equally to children. Only unaccompanied children are exempt from removal to return hubs; families with children can be subject to this possibility. The Regulation's approach to detention is particularly concerning. Since the adoption of the Directive in 2008, international human rights standards have evolved considerably. The UN Committee on the Rights of the Child and the UN Committee on Migrant Workers, the UN Special Rapporteur on the Human Rights of Migrants, and the UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention have all recognised that children should never be placed in immigration detention. Rather than reflecting this well-established standard, the Regulation substantially expands both the grounds for detention and its maximum duration, while failing to exclude children from its scope. On balance, the Regulation is likely to have a detrimental impact on children's rights.

 

9)    Alternatives to return

The Regulation largely ignores the reality that not every person in an irregular situation can be returned. Most notably, it removes the existing option to grant regular status rather than issue a return decision. Under Article 6(4) of the Directive, Member States may grant an autonomous residence permit on compassionate, humanitarian or other grounds to a person in an irregular situation. In such cases, no return decision is issued, or, where one has already been adopted, it must be withdrawn or suspended for the duration of the residence permit. As a result of this deletion, the Regulation no longer recognises any humanitarian or human rights-based exception to the obligation to issue a return decision for every person in an irregular situation. Granting regular status enables individuals to access socio-economic rights and justice, while reducing their vulnerability to exploitation. It is equally in the interest of Member States to ensure that people residing on their territory have a lawful status. Given that Member States already provide a range of humanitarian and compassionate residence permits, a genuinely common return system should also preserve avenues for regularisation, which are intrinsically linked to return policy.

 

10) Return hubs

One of the Regulation's most significant innovations is the possibility of removing a person to a third country with which they may have no prior connection—a so-called "return hub" (Article 17). This mechanism requires the Member State concerned to conclude an agreement or arrangement with the third country. Notably, that country is not required to satisfy the criteria applicable to safe third countries under the Asylum Procedure Regulation. Instead, the Regulation merely provides that it must respect international human rights standards and principles in accordance with international law, including the principle of non-refoulement. However, it does not specify who is responsible for assessing compliance with these requirements or by which criteria such an assessment should be conducted. Only unaccompanied children are exempt from transfer to return hubs. The concept has attracted interest among some Member States, with Rwanda, Uganda and Uzbekistan reportedly among the countries recently considered as potential locations for return hubs. The Italy–Albania Protocol has undoubtedly served as the model for this mechanism. Yet beyond the serious human rights concerns it raises, the Italian experience has also demonstrated the considerable financial and practical challenges of its implementation. Following several transfers blocked by Italian courts, the compatibility of the arrangement with EU law is yet to be decided by the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) (see here and here). Return hubs have also been considered a form of externalisation of migration governance by the UN Special Rapporteur on the Human Rights of Migrants. The Rapporteur warned that they create a risk of violating the principle of non-refoulement, including chain refoulement, exposing individuals to arbitrary detention and undermining procedural safeguards. As the Rapporteur emphasised, States cannot outsource their human rights obligations and may remain internationally responsible for violations committed in the cooperating third country.

 

Concluding thoughts

During the negotiations on the Return Directive, a Latin American head of state famously described it as the "Directive of Shame" (Directiva de la VergĂĽenza). From the perspectives of human rights, proportionality, good faith and, indeed, common sense, the future Return Regulation may well deserve to be regarded as the EU's "Regulation of Shame". As the preceding analysis illustrates, the Regulation creates a significant risk of human rights violations, most notably breaches of the principle of non-refoulement—including chain refoulement—and the prohibition of arbitrary detention. It introduces a range of highly intrusive and coercive measures, even though they are part of administrative migration procedures concerning people who have committed no crime. The Regulation also raises serious concerns regarding legal certainty and the prohibition of arbitrariness by deferring to national law on core aspects of the return procedure, including the grounds for detention, the criteria for establishing a risk of absconding, restrictions on freedom of movement, investigative measures and the consequences of non-compliance. In doing so, it undermines one of its own stated objectives: the harmonisation of return rules across the EU. The Regulation is also unlikely to achieve its central policy objective of increasing the number of returns. There is little evidence that reducing opportunities for regularisation while expanding detention and entry bans will make return systems more effective. On the contrary, greater reliance on detention and reduced use of voluntary return are difficult to reconcile with considerations of financial efficiency, itself a guiding principle of EU law-making.

Reaching agreement on such a coercive text was made possible by Parliament's position. Unlike during the negotiations on the Return Directive between 2005 and 2008, the Parliament did not serve as a counterweight to the positions of the Commission and the Council. Whereas interinstitutional negotiations on the relatively short Directive lasted around nine months, agreement on the considerably longer Regulation was reached after only a handful of trilogues over approximately two months. During the negotiations on the Directive, Parliament was instrumental in preserving and strengthening a number of safeguards. By contrast, its position on the Regulation remained largely aligned with the Council's. The alliance between the EPP and far-right groups secured the necessary majority, but support also came from some centrist and liberal MEPs. This reflects a broader shift in the European political landscape, in which restrictive migration narratives have become increasingly mainstream.

With the Regulation now adopted, much will depend on its implementation and interpretation. National courts and the CJEU will have a crucial role in ensuring that its provisions are applied consistently with Member States' obligations under international law, EU law and domestic constitutional standards. Beyond litigation, financial oversight bodies may increasingly scrutinise expenditure on costly detention systems and return hubs. Given that the Commission's proposal was not accompanied by an impact assessment, independent research will be essential to evaluate whether the Regulation's coercive approach actually increases returns. Investigative journalism and advocacy will likewise remain indispensable in documenting its impact and challenging practices that undermine fundamental rights. Perhaps, ultimately, this legislation—shaped by ideas that only a few years ago remained largely confined to the political margins—will also serve as a reminder that the erosion of rights rarely remains limited to a single group. Once exceptions to fundamental guarantees become normalised, the boundaries of exclusion tend to expand, placing ever more people beyond the protection of the law.