Three years into the war in Ukraine, the information centre for refugees in Krakow, in southern Poland, is doing brisk business. But things have changed. At the start of the war Ukrainians asked for help finding housing and work. These days, says Ludmila Dimitrow, the centre’s co-ordinator, they mostly seek advice on acquiring permanent residency or Polish citizenship. Polish classes are booming. “Whenever we open up a new course for 25 people, 400 apply,” says Ms Dimitrow.

The European Union’s “temporary protection” scheme, which offers the bloc’s 4.3m Ukrainian refugees access to housing, employment and benefits, is due to expire next March. Europe will probably not imitate Donald Trump, who is considering revoking the status of Ukrainian refugees in America. But whether or not the EU’s programme is extended (for a second time), Ukrainians in exile are increasingly giving up on the idea of going home.

According to a recent study by the Centre for Economic Strategy (CES), a Ukrainian research group, only 43% of the refugees worldwide plan on returning, versus 74% two years earlier. For many, what matters is not only when the war ends, but how. The growing prospect of a ceasefire without Ukrainian membership in NATO or the EU, along with continued Russian occupation of a fifth of the country, does not inspire much confidence. Many Ukrainians fear Russia would attack again soon.

Ukrainian women, who form the bulk of the war refugees, were once widely expected to go home after the war. Today it is more plausible that an end to martial law would lead even more Ukrainians, especially men of military age who are currently barred from travel, to exit the country. The CES study says that over 500,000 men could leave. Because that would be catastrophic for Ukraine’s labour market, and for its capacity to defend itself, the country will hesitate to ease restrictions. “This might take a long time,” says Oleksandr Merezhko, a Ukrainian MP.

Ukrainians in Europe are putting down roots. In Poland the share of refugees, most of them women, working or actively seeking work has topped 67%. The government plans to let refugees exchange temporary protection for a residence permit valid for three years. The number that apply “might be a few hundred thousand, or it could be all of them,” says Maciej Duszczyk, the deputy minister of the interior.

Ukrainians contribute much more to Poland’s economy as workers and taxpayers than they cost in humanitarian assistance. In 2023, they added as much as 1.1% to GDP, according to Deloitte, a consultancy. Even a fresh exodus from Ukraine would not pose a problem. Poland’s unemployment rate is just 2.6%, tied for lowest in the EU. Without immigration, the country’s workforce would shrink by up to 2.1m people in the next decade due to ageing, says Andrzej Kubisiak of the Polish Economic Institute, a think-tank. Refugees from Ukraine help plug the gap.

In most of the EU, though, the picture is bleaker. In Germany, the employment rate among Ukrainian refugees was just 43% at the end of 2024. The share is even lower in Italy and Spain, though it is rising almost everywhere. In Germany refugees view the lack of child care as the biggest obstacle. Others, however, blame generous state benefits. Of the nearly 1.2m Ukrainian refugees in Germany, over 700,000 receive a welfare payment of €563 ($607) per month. Christian Democratic politicians have suggested cutting payments to nudge refugees into work.

Poland may do so as well, as popular attitudes towards Ukrainians harden. The country’s ruling Civic Coalition has already restricted its “Family 800+” programme, which pays families a monthly 800 zlotys ($206) per child, to refugees whose children attend Polish schools. The government is now considering limiting it to those who work and pay taxes in Poland.

In theory the job market in Europe is fully open to Ukrainians covered by temporary protection. In practice refugees struggle to find white-collar jobs. In Poland 48% of foreigners, mostly Ukrainians, are employed in positions below their qualifications. In Germany 72% of adult Ukrainian refugees have university degrees, but most are working in low-skilled jobs or are unemployed. Language can be an obstacle, and recognition of professional degrees and certificates is slow or impossible. Employers are also reluctant to hire Ukrainians because countries might revoke their protected status, analysts say.

Those are surmountable problems. Others are less so. Anzhelika, a music teacher from Vinnytsia, in central Ukraine, cleans homes and packs clothes at a warehouse in Krakow. Like millions of Ukrainians in Europe, she faces an unenviable choice. To stay in Poland would mean more time away from her husband, who cannot leave Ukraine. To go back would be to gamble with her two children’s future. “Even if the war ends now, it will start again,” she says. “Under these circumstances, what kind of mother would want to take her son back to Ukraine?”■