Ten years ago, German Chancellor Angela Merkel’s declaration—"We will do it!"—marked a turning point for European migration policy. Her words, spoken on August 31, 2015, ushered in a period of unprecedented openness, with police no longer stopping refugees at Germany’s borders. The result was immediate and dramatic: more than a million people applied for asylum in Germany over the following two years, and Eurostat recorded around 2.7 million asylum applications across the European Union during 2015 and 2016, according to Deutsche Welle (DW).
That surge was not a blip. With the exception of the pandemic year 2020, asylum applications across the EU have remained above pre-2015 levels. The numbers spiked again in 2023, surpassing one million, though they have started to fall in 2025. Yet the fundamental issues—legal, political, and social—surrounding migration remain as contentious as ever.
In the UK, the debate recently came to a head in Epping Forest, London, where the Bell Hotel became the latest flashpoint. On August 29, 2025, the English court of appeal overturned a temporary injunction that would have forced the hotel to stop housing asylum seekers. The original injunction, granted by a high court judge, required the asylum seekers to vacate the premises by September 12. The government, which has a statutory duty to house destitute asylum seekers—many of whom arrive unlawfully in small boats from France—had sought to intervene in the case but was initially refused. The court of appeal lambasted this decision, emphasizing that it was "clearly desirable for the government to be heard as it has the duty to house asylum seekers," as reported by The Guardian.
The court further held that the "balance of convenience was obviously to keep the asylum seekers at the hotel pending trial," a trial that was only weeks away. The judgment’s unusually harsh tone was interpreted by many as a rebuke to the growing influence of populism in the justice system. "Populism has no place in the administration of justice," the court seemed to declare, even as populist politics continues to shape the broader debate.
Indeed, populism is everywhere these days—especially on the question of migration. In the UK, far-right politicians, notably Reform Party leader Nigel Farage, have called for drastic measures: deporting all refugees who arrive unlawfully and detaining them in what he calls "Nightingale-type centres"—a euphemism many critics equate with detention camps. Farage has gone so far as to propose withdrawing the UK from the 1951 Refugee Convention and the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR), arguing that current laws tie the government’s hands. According to The Guardian, Reform is now 15 percent ahead of Labour in the latest polls, signaling a political climate increasingly receptive to hardline approaches.
This isn’t just a UK phenomenon. Across Europe, migration has become a defining issue for voters. During the 2024 European Parliament elections, 24 percent of respondents cited migration as a priority, Eurostat data shows. In countries like Austria and the Netherlands, right-wing populist parties have turned migration into a central campaign theme, often blaming it for everything from housing shortages to overburdened healthcare systems. Anouk Pronk of the Clingendael Institute told DW that in the Netherlands, the 2023 election campaign was marked by an "obsessive focus" on migration, though she now sees a shift toward addressing underlying problems rather than scapegoating migrants.
The backlash has led to real policy changes. In Belgium, for example, the government stopped accepting male asylum seekers in 2023. At the EU level, the mood has shifted from Merkel’s "obligation to help" to a more security-focused approach. The new European Pact on Asylum and Migration, set to take effect in summer 2026, will introduce stricter border procedures for refugees from countries with low asylum recognition rates. The EU is also working on regulations to allow deportation of refugees to countries with which they have no prior connection or consent—a major departure from previous norms. Plans for "return centres" for migrants are also in the works, as part of what some officials call "innovative solutions." At the June 2025 EU summit, 21 of 27 member states agreed to develop even stricter common asylum rules.
Behind these policy shifts lies a complex and evolving public mood. Political scientist Lenka Dražanova of the European University Institute told DW that while the basic attitudes toward migration haven’t changed much, those opposed have become "much more vocal." For many, fears about job security and cultural change fuel resistance to new arrivals, especially in Central and Eastern Europe. Yet Dražanova also notes that the actual number of asylum seekers is often less important than the intensity of the debate: "The discourse has changed," she says, with right-wing views now more normalized in public discussion.
Still, public opinion is not monolithic. Pronk points out that there is a "general willingness to help Ukrainian refugees" across the EU, a sign that attitudes can be more nuanced than political rhetoric suggests. Dražanova adds that studies show public opinion toward migrants has actually "improved somewhat in recent years," even as the political climate seems to harden.
Legal frameworks remain a battleground. The UK government’s statutory duty to house asylum seekers is rooted in its obligations under the 1951 Refugee Convention, which entitles anyone—regardless of nationality—to claim refugee status and apply for asylum. But the 1967 Protocol to the Convention extended these obligations worldwide, and now, as The Guardian reports, there is "a strong political case across the whole of Europe for a new Protocol to enable states to row back their worldwide obligations and limit them geographically to refugees from Europe."
Farage and others argue that human rights laws have exacerbated Britain’s immigration problem, but critics call this disingenuous. Immigration has been a contentious issue in the UK since the 1960s, long before the Human Rights Act of 1998 made such laws "fashionable," as The Guardian notes. The ECHR, which Farage seeks to leave, only tangentially affects immigration control through Article 3 (protection from torture) and Article 8 (right to private and family life)—the former already protected under UK law, and the latter a qualified right that can be limited by immigration rules.
As Europe wrestles with these questions, practical solutions remain elusive. Some advocate for identity cards, arguing that in technologically advanced societies, the inability to prove one’s status would deter unauthorized migrants. Others warn that rolling back human rights protections would be a "sure road to authoritarian rule."
What’s clear is that migration will remain at the heart of Europe’s political and legal debates for years to come. The continent stands at a crossroads, torn between the legacy of Merkel’s "We will do it!" and the mounting pressures to tighten borders and limit obligations. Whether Europe can find a path that balances compassion, security, and the rule of law is a question that will define its future.