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Illegal Immigrant Networks: A Part of Dutch Society?

Worldwide structural violence, ecological disasters, and the globalization of communication and transportation are some factors forcing industrialized Europe, including The Netherlands, to cope with continued waves of immigration. Burdened and sometimes tortured by poverty, warfare, and discrimination, many citizens of struggling countries believe that their best chances for a brighter future may lie in Holland. However, The Netherlands is not willing to accept every migrant. Fearing the social and economic impact of large-scale  immigration, The Netherlands tries to tighten its borders through increasingly narrow interpretations of international treaties. Rather than curbing immigration, however, tightened borders force eager  migrants to find illegal ways of entering the country in which they envision their future. In The Netherlands, politicians refer specifically to “official” numbers of immigrants from certain countries, implying that there are also thousands of undocumented immigrants who remain unaccounted for (Rudy Speear). In fact, the discourse on illegal  immigrants is so vague that official estimates of their numbers in The Netherlands range from 40,000-150,000 (Jonkman-te-Winkel, 1994: 14).

Public discussions of the immigration question are widespread. Stories about immigration often appear on front page headlines of popular newspapers and magazines. Illegal immigrants are often stigmatized and blamed for creating an economic burden for society and committing crimes, despite the fact that illegals are rarely arrested or accused of crimes (Ruthy Cortooms, AZC De Klencke). Risking deportation, undocumented migrants simply stand to lose too much by committing a crime and getting caught.  Our research has shown that this overlooking of differences in crime statistics is characteristic of the ways in which illegals are generally considered and treated by Dutch society and policy-makers: they are ignored.

Because documented migrants have rights to social subsidies, unionized employment, and an education, the Dutch policy towards immigrants appears sufficient and fair on the surface. Undocumented migrants, however, are not guaranteed all basic necessities such as housing and secure work.  In order to survive, therefore, illegal immigrants must enmesh themselves in complex networks of people who, for a variety of reasons, are willing to help these migrants survive while the rest of society turns a blind-eye. While these networks are sometimes effective in helping migrants, they are often inadequate for providing the security that makes day-to-day life bearable. Moreover, these networks sometimes perpetuate the exploitation of illegal migrants,  leaving the migrants dependent on an informal system that impedes them from improving their financial and social positions.  

Who Are the Illegal Immigrants?

The undocumented migrants we interviewed and whose stories were heard illustrate that there are various reasons why people migrate to The Netherlands.  Even among the small group of immigrants we interviewed, there was great diversity concerning their personal motivations and experiences.  Some fled war and oppression by a totalitarian state. They came to The Netherlands with the hope that their often tragic stories would be sufficient for the attainment of permanent asylum status. Many, however, did not meet the Dutch legal requirements for refugee status and were consequently rejected by the government and “administratively expelled” from the country.  Unable or unwilling to return to their home countries, these people remain in The Netherlands undocumented. Other immigrants came seeking asylum status because they lived in discriminatory societies where their ethnic or religious backgrounds put them in danger of persecution. Such refugees may face the most difficulty attaining asylum status because they often flee so-called “safe countries.”  Others come on tourist visas with the intention of staying illegally in The Netherlands to work and earn more money than is possible in their home countries. This last group is often presumed to be socially opportunistic and a burden for Dutch society. Immigrants’ personal stories show that their reasons for moving often determine the kinds of networks with which they become engaged. 


For the purpose of understanding the complex relationships between groups of people involved with helping illegal  immigrants, we have divided the various sorts of networks into two broad categories: those organized for immigrants and those organized by immigrants. Both of these categories can in turn be divided into two subcategories: formally structured and informally arranged. Many migrants, especially those whose applications for asylum were rejected, receive much of their assistance from Dutch people who are dedicated to improving the lives of immigrants either through formal organization or personal investment of energy and money.  On the other hand, immigrants who come for economic reasons most often work more closely with other immigrants from their country or region. Generally, however, people find their way and build their lives in The Netherlands using resources that come from a variety of channels that are often interconnected. Nonetheless, these combinations of networks were never sufficient to create a smooth and stable transition into life in The Netherlands for the people we interviewed. The following histories will illuminate a few of the ways in which people tap into these complex networks and the ways in which they have been both helped and let down by those networks.


At age 36 Sergei left his hometown near St. Petersburg, Russia for The Netherlands because he felt his life was at risk. He belonged to a Jewish art organization whose first exhibition was tainted by the appearance of swastikas painted by neo-Nazis. The well-foundedness of Sergei’s fear would later be confirmed in 1998 when a Jewish member of the art organization was murdered.  Desperate to leave Russia and without a passport, Sergei hid under luggage on a vehicle bound for Germany. From there, Sergei took a train to The Netherlands where he already had limited contacts, as he had held an exhibition in Leiden one year before the swastika incident.  Sergei called on these friendly contacts to pick him up and direct him to immigration services. Shortly after arriving Sergei requested asylum which, after a two-year long application process, was denied. During his appeal he did not have any place to stay, so he contacted AIDA (Association International des Artistes), an organization he heard about from people he met while living at the AZC (Asylum Seekers Center).  By request of many artists including prominent Dutch writer, Mies Bouwhuis, The Dutch chapter of AIDA was organized by Mr. Herman Divendal. After meeting Sergei, Mr. Divendal worked to place him in a temporary home and finally decided to ask his brother, Roman Catholic priest Jan Divendal who agreed to house Sergei for four weeks. Mr. Jan Divendal and Sergei felt so much at ease with each other that Sergei ended up staying for the entire three years of his asylum appeals process. During this time Sergei was able to pursue his passion for painting and take painting classes from a well-known teacher. Mr. Divendal helped Sergei with all his living necessities, provided him with support, and accompanied him to his immigration lawyer. While Jan Divendal was completely comfortable with and open about Sergei’s presence in his house, many members of the church community reacted to Divendal’s charity for an illegal  immigrant with the attitude, “Do it and don’t tell it to us” (Jan Divendal).

After five years in The Netherlands and the denial of his final appeal, Sergei  moved back to Russia. His story, however, provides some insight into the operations of groups dedicated to helping immigrants.  We discovered that even structured organizations such as AIDA rely on personal contacts in order to assist those who seek help. Sergei did receive assistance for two years from the AZC, a government-sponsored center. However it was only through personal contacts made there that he was eventually able to find a stable and supportive home in which to live. For Sergei, the individual kindness of one man proved to be the most effective “network” for ensuring his survival and security. Without fail, every other immigrant who shared his/her story for this paper noted the importance of individual contacts, often made within a more formal structure, in acquiring papers or simply surviving.

Ndeye Fatou and Lamp Fall

Siblings Ndeye Fatou and Lamp Fall, ages 21 and 30, moved to The Netherlands hoping to make money to send home to their families in Dakar, Senegal.  Ndeye had been traveling with a dance company in Spain where she was exploited and underpaid by her boss, while Lamp was living illegally with a cousin in France. In January 2001 they decided to move to The Netherlands to pursue their work in traditional dancing and drumming. They moved in with a cousin with whom they are still living and began to look for work using contacts in the African community.  They note that many of the Senegalese living in Amsterdam are artists, so it was not too difficult to find some work in a city with high demand for cultural activities. Lamp and Ndeye now give workshops and performances all over the country and are making enough money to survive and send some money to their family in Dakar every month. Their problem lies in the instability of their work, as many of the workshops are irregular and no work is guaranteed from week to week. Ndeye says she could not continue to live in The Netherlands illegally forever because the stress is too great. She wants access to education, the ability to work at the conservatory, and the possibility of paying taxes and living a normal life. She has no idea how she might get papers but trusts that God will bring them if it is meant to be. In the meantime, she and Lamp are unaware of any organizations that might be able to help her find work or provide legal advice. Ndeye has managed to make some Dutch friends, one of who took her to the hospital when she fell ill. But Ndeye rarely informs anyone of her illegal status and is working hard to learn Dutch so that she can more fully blend into Dutch society.

Ndeye’s and Lamp’s religious affiliation has also provided them with a degree of support. They belong to a Senegalese Islamic brotherhood called the Mouridiyya whose fundamental values are allegiance to a spiritual guide and hard work as a path to salvation. Shortly after arriving in The Netherlands the siblings were introduced to Mam Cheikh, a 40-year old Mouride from Martinique who has provided them and many other young Senegalese immigrants with emotional and spiritual encouragement. Mam Cheikh is also always looking for ways he might be able to help his young friends attain legal status. For example, we met Mam Cheikh on the street and approached him because we recognized his distinctly Mouride clothing. After hearing about the goals of Humanity in Action, he introduced us to Ndeye and Lamp hoping that the dissemination of their story of hardship might help bring about positive change for them and other illegals struggling to get by without any official help in The Netherlands.


“Lorsque nous vivons, lorsque nous mangeons, il y a des gens qui souffrent.”

(While we are living, while we are eating, there are people who are suffering)

Alain refused to stand by as Mobutu’s oppressive totalitarian regime of the Congo denied people their basic human rights. He was part of an active group of young Protestants demanding change in the country and protesting decisions made by the government. After one large controversial demonstration and a three-month prison sentence, Alain sensed his life would be in grave danger if he did not flee the Congo. Because he did not have a passport or money, Alain went to the port where boatmen often offered to help usher people to safety in Europe. Using contacts of friends he was able to find someone to bring him to The Netherlands. Twenty years old and alone, Alain spent his first seven days in The Netherlands living on the street. He was unable to keep in touch with the other Congolese refugees who came on his boat because they believed it was too conspicuous and thus dangerous for them to travel in groups. On his seventh day Alain met a man on the street who told him about the immigration office and the possibility of attaining refugee status. After one month in the welcome center, Alain entered into the asylum-seeking process and housed at an AZC for five months. He was shortly afterwards moved to a house in Friesland where he spent three years hoping and waiting for papers. After his final rejection in 1995, Alain found himself only temporarily on the street before finding help from the Congolese Organization.

The Congolese organization is composed of both documented and undocumented Congolese and of Dutch people interested in helping the Congolese community in The Netherlands. They connected him with a group of churches in Amsterdam and Weesp who volunteered to host refugees temporarily in their churches. Alain and three other Congolese refugees were housed in a church for approximately six weeks before moving on to another church, either Catholic or Protestant. The churches all built a livable space for their guests, including beds, toilets, and showers. This program lasted for a year and a half before the churches decided to end the program. The effort had put a tremendous stress and financial burden on church members who were responsible for finding two people to stay with the refugees 24 hours a day and for providing them with all basic living necessities. Furthermore, the constant moving was a psychological burden for the refugees who needed some sort of stability.

When the church program ended, the Congolese Organization again stepped in to help Alain find a place to live and enough money for food. He was given support by several official organizations that had the mission of helping illegal immigrants. Much of his help came from the organization Autonoom Centrum for which he volunteered during his appeals process in return for the help. In addition to providing Alain with basic living necessities, Autonoom Centrum also ensured that the government-paid lawyer was continuing to fight Alain’s case for asylum. Alain’s difficulty acquiring papers is curious considering his history and the violent nature of the Congo, however Alain says that most Dutch people are unaware of the Congo’s problems. Other countries such as Iraq, he says, receive much more attention in the media. Furthermore, Mobutu’s close relations with the “West” made it politically problematic for The Netherlands to accept refugees from a so-called safe country.

The turning point for Congolese refugees was in 1997, five years after Alain arrived in Rotterdam. Mobutu died and Kabila came to power, thus eliminating the political ties between The Netherlands and the Congo. The Congo was suddenly declared an unsafe country and Alain’s asylum process was immediately reinitiated, even though he had already lost what he had thought was his final appeal. Ironically, Kabila’s rise to power was an incentive for many Congolese to consider at least returning to their home country. For them, Mobutu had been the real danger, and a new leader promised new hope. Alain’s asylum process was again going poorly, and it was not until a Dutch friend of his offered to help that he was able to secure his papers. He had met her while living at a church in Weesp, and she lobbied for his approval on the grounds that they were going to be living together and building a life together. Finally successful, Alain received his papers to stay in The Netherlands in 1999, seven years after having fled.

Alain credits the Congolese Organization for having helped him tremendously during his years of illegal living and involuntarily unemployment. Their connections put Alain into several networks that helped him survive, including the network of official organizations, churches, and other Congolese people working towards the same goals. The Congolese Organization was also actively trying to raise public awareness about the problems of the Congo in an effort to enlarge the network of people showing concern for Congolese refugees. Unfortunately, Alain says, the Congolese community fractured due to differences in opinion over Kabila. Some had faith that any change was inherently good and that the new regime needed support. Others rejected Kabila’s tactics and refused to support his politics. The 5,000-6,000 Congolese people living in Amsterdam remain split over such political issues today, thus making it more difficult for those arriving today to find the help and support they need. According to Alain, so long as the network of Congolese remains fractured, the community will face greater difficulty rallying support for the more than 2,000 Congolese still living undocumented in The Netherlands.


Magna is a 38 year old woman from the Philippines. After having completed a college degree in management she left her country seeking adventure and a new way of life. She went to live with family in Lebanon when she was 28 years old and worked there for eight years. Looking for yet another change, Magna came to The Netherlands two years ago on a tourist visa. She was welcomed by a cousin already living in Amsterdam and who was in the process of applying for legal papers. After one month in The Netherlands, Magna’s cousin got her papers and gave her cleaning job in a private home to Magna.

Magna does not feel much need for more support in her life, formal or informal. She feels that illegals like herself would not receive good care from a doctor but understands that she must save money in case she falls ill. Magna has developed a social network in The Netherlands of both Philipinos and Dutch and wants to become fully integrated to lead a normal life. She is confident that she will soon have her papers, although she is not currently initiating the legalization process nor does she desire help from an organization who specializes in this process. Magna says there are several Philipino community-based organizations that provide services for illegal  immigrants, but she has not felt the need for their help. She insists her life is like that of every other normal Dutch person who goes to work five days a week to make a living. She knows she is fortunate to have found stable work through her cousin but says there are many other Philipinos in Amsterdam who need much more attention and support.


Abdoulang is a 27 year old man from the Ivory Coast. Unsatisfied with his family life in his hometown and seeking adventure, he asked his cousin in Amsterdam to help him start a new life in The Netherlands.  His cousin was very enthusiastic and confirmed the idyllic idea Abdou had of the situation in The Netherlands. For about 70 guilders Abdou purchased a false passport from a well-connected network of Ivoirians. His first stop was in Paris but, in spite of the large Ivoirian community in France, Abdou opted to leave the country immediately.  He had heard rumors that the French police randomly checked Africans’ papers and that immigrants were generally treated better in The Netherlands.  Abdou took a train to Amsterdam where he was met by his cousin with whom he would briefly reside.

Unfortunately, the period during which he could live with his cousin was much shorter than he had expected. After only one week his cousin told Abdou that he would need to find a new place to live. It was during his search for a new home that Abdou realized that conditions in The Netherlands were not as promising as he had envisioned. Abdou was only able to find a two room apartment owned by an African that he shared with 17 other people for 250 guilders a month per person.  During this period, Abdou worked seven days/week distributing newspapers but was disappointed with his income. He was not making enough money to pay his daily expenses and satisfy the demands by his family in the Ivory Coast to send money home. After three weeks distributing papers Abdou started asking people in the African community to help find him a new job. He was introduced to a Dutch African who would “allow” Abdou to work using his papers, but this arrangement meant Abdou lost half his salary paying this man for his services.  

Interested in these agreements made between legal and illegal Africans, we asked Abdou if the African community in The Netherlands functioned more as a cohesive body working for the betterment of the whole or more as a large group of individuals each working for his own betterment. Abdou asserted that relations in the African community are not about family or cohesiveness but about business. In fact, he says, even family members are often reluctant to help each other succeed as each immigrant wants to show his family back home that he is working the hardest, earning the most, and bringing the most honor and prestige to his family. Abdou’s assertion that the African community often functions like a business was confirmed by his experience with his next job in construction. He again used the name on the papers of a legal African immigrant but this time did not receive his part of the salary.  Instead, the man with the papers and the bank account kept the entire salary to himself. While all members of the African community clearly do not function in this manner, Abdou believes that Africans in The Netherlands are generally much more interested in helping themselves than helping each other. After having been taken advantage of on two occasions by the man loaning him papers, Abdou could no longer afford to pay his rent. He found one more temporary job which ended one month before the time of our interview in July. He has currently been unemployed for one month.

Abdou’s employment problems were accompanied by difficulties finding a stable place to live.  During his year and a half in The Netherlands he has lived in three different places. His current situation seemed fine for awhile, but Abdou complains that his landlord is now raising the rent and utility rates at an unfair pace.

Abdou maintains close contact with his family in the Ivory Coast where he eventually hopes to return with a large sum of money in hand. His family, however, is unknowingly slowing down the eventual achievement of this goal. Their false impressions of Europe lead them to believe that Abdou is inevitably living an easy life and making a lot of money, thus prompting them often to ask for money to be wired.  A day before this interview, in fact, Abdou complied with a request by his mother to send money to aid his ailing father. Abdou sent nearly all his savings thus creating an even greater urgency to find employment very soon. This financial dilemma is compounded by the maintenance of traditional networks in Africa and the absence of them in The Netherlands. While still fulfilling his financial obligations to his old networks, Abdou has no one on whom to rely to help him fulfill those obligations. In short, he is now living in an individualistic society while trying to maintain the values and actions of a familial society. Currently, Abdou has about the exact amount he started with a year ago when he came to The Netherlands: nothing.

The contacts and network that Abdou has used since coming to Amsterdam have all been informal.  His jobs and housing have been arranged through individual contacts in the African community.  Strikingly, Abdoul has never come into contact with an organization that helps illegal  immigrants.  In fact, he is unaware of the existence of such organizations, nor has he ever asked anyone about such a possibility. While he hopes to one day have papers to work in The Netherlands, his lack of information and helpful contacts prevents him from even learning about the ways in which he might be able to attain papers.  Rather, he says, “We, the Muslims, leave things like that up to the good Lord.” Fortunately, Abdou thus far has been healthy, as no one had ever informed him that a hospital would provide him free care if he were to fall ill or get in an accident. Abdou is currently still looking for a job.  Despite his hardship and disillusionment about the alleged ease of life in Europe, Abdou will not yet leave The Netherlands, as he “will die before going back to his family without a respectable amount of money”(Abdoulang).

Justifying Aid for Illegal Immigrants

Stories of people such as Abdoulang, Ndeye Fatou, and Lamp Fall have make clear the limitations of networks organized by illegal immigrants themselves. Because everyone is struggling to make ends meet, there is little reliability or stability of the networks these people most often use. More formally organized networks formed by immigrants, such as the Congolese Organization or the Senegalese Association, are more successful at building a cohesive network and accessing resources to help illegals.  Such formally organized groups, however, are often directed by people who have other jobs as well and can therefore only work for the organization part time on a voluntary basis. Assisting illegal immigrants on a more official level through an organization whose mission is specifically to do so, however, poses obvious problems.  Such organizations offer to help people who are infringing laws. It seems paradoxical, therefore, to promote or fund an organization dedicated to fighting for their rights. Nevertheless, there are numerous organizations in The Netherlands that help illegal immigrants with a variety of services. While M. Bijl of the Ondersteunende Kommissie voor Illegale Arbeiders (OKIA, Support Committee for Illegal Labor) says that almost every city has at least one small organization helping illegal immigrants, many people we spoke with were unaware of such services.

Every person who decides to help an illegal immigrant has unique reasons for doing so, but many of them likely refer to the idea that “there are no unlawful human beings, there are only inhuman laws” (Autonoom Centrum, Amsterdam). In fact, every person with whom we spoke who has helped an illegal  immigrant believes that current immigration policy in The Netherlands is morally corrupt and egregiously ignores the human rights of immigrants. Autonoom Centrum justifies helping illegals with its philosophy that every person deserves equal rights, regardless of his country of origin. (E. Hollants, Autonoom Centrum). Jan Divendal, a Catholic priest who has opened his home to an asylum seeker, reminds us of the story of Abraham who was the first migrant to flee persecution and seek refuge. The Westras, a Protestant family in Weesp who housed a Congolese refugee, say they always recall the story of Joseph and Mary as migrants in need of simple human hospitality.  

When questioned about immigration issues, many politicians refuse to discuss the size and extent of the problems posed by illegal  immigrants in The Netherlands. (Rudi Speear, Stadsdeelraad Bijlmer, Amsterdam), yet they are quick to point out that there are private organizations that provide aid (E. Hollants). Many people criticize the government for the hypocrisy in refusing to create more humane laws while concurrently providing funding to those organizations that help the victims of the law. Organizations such as Autonoom Centrum find themselves in a catch 22: they must exist to help the victims, but at long as they exist the government will have an excuse not to fix the core of the problem. People in need keep coming to organizations that do not have the resources to meet the demand. This may partly explain why the organizations are poorly publicized and relatively difficult to find.

Current Responses

The OKIA maintains that solutions are found by creating a platform for discussion between all parties concerned. In working towards improving working conditions for illegals, OKIA speaks with migrants, employers, unions, churches and mosques, physicians, psychiatrists, and neighborhood organizations. OKIA then analyzes the information gathered from all parties and makes specific suggestions to policymakers (mostly local) about how to improve the lives of illegal workers. A recent accomplishment was the launching of the "Network of Healthcare for Illegals" which receives administrative support from a local healthcare institution and funding from a national fund for healthcare for illegals (Koppelings Fonds). Proud of this accomplishment, OKIA says it would like to work most closely with other organizations to develop more comprehensive initiatives to provide aid to illegal  immigrants. 

Other people providing assistance do so on a more personal level rather than at the political level. The ecumenical community of Roman Catholic Priest Brother Piet has made its home in Amsterdam’s Red Light District for the last fifty years. Also home to organized crime, prostitution and human tragedy, Brother Piet refers to this area of Amsterdam as “The Netherlands behind the curtain of the theater.” Because of its ties to the church, the ecumenical community is part of what brother Piet calls an “extensive international network” and belongs to the “European Network of Urban Missions.” These connections sometimes allow Brother Piet to help immigrants who would like to repatriate by finding them connections with family and a church in their home countries. Furthermore, members of the community come from all over the world, thus facilitating delivery of services to a diverse group of people. Those seeking help from the community learn of its services by word of mouth, but Brother Piet says they cannot possibly provide thorough help to everyone in need. He never turns anyone away, but the community’s social workers often refer people to other organizations. The services the community provides are so diverse that Brother Piet could not summarize them easily. He helps any one in need, regardless of legal status or religious background. Such help can include psychological counseling, medical services, or the provision of basic living necessities.  The community can also provide housing to a limited number of families. To promote self-reliance and self-respect, however, those helped by the community often become part of the ecumenical community by contributing something in return. 

Autonoom Centrum was founded by a group of people concerned with a range of political issues such as rights for squatters, nuclear weapons, and discrimination.  While working in the community they began to realize the severity of problems encountered by marginalized  illegal  immigrants.  The organization thus shifted its focus to work for illegal  immigrants by providing housing, work, and sometimes money.  Knowledge of the organization spread, and the demand for services became too great to meet.  Autonoom Centrum decided that the majority of its limited resources would be better spent in politics, raising awareness among politicians whose unrealistic policies were at the heart of all problems related to illegal  immigrants. The organization maintains that by denying that The Netherlands is an immigration country, current policy pushes immigrants into ‘illegal’ activities such as subletting illegally and working under pseudonyms.  Furthermore, illegal  immigrants can frequently only rely on communities of their own ethnic or national origin where exploitation is often rampant. The government, says an Autonoom Centrum spokesperson, E. Hollants, should work to prevent such problems of poverty and exploitation among illegals rather than calling on non-profit organizations to find temporary band-aid solutions. 

The Future for Illegal Immigrants

Frustrations of both illegal  immigrants and the organizations helping them show that there are three major obstacles to creating comprehensive and effective networks: existing organizations cannot meet the demand for services, they are difficult to find, and there is little coherent organization among immigrant communities. The first two obstacles must be addressed at the national policy level where roadblocks to helping the integration of immigrants abound. Refugees denied asylum status, for example, are simply left to fend for themselves, while the existence of economic immigrants is strategically ignored. Because illegal  immigrants are not disrupting life in The Netherlands, Dutch society prefers to ignore immigrants’ hardships and pretend there is no problem. As a result, there is inadequate funding or resources to assist this marginalized part of society through formal channels. At the grassroots level, the unstable nature of life as an illegal  immigrant makes it nearly impossible for groups to organize into cooperative networks of support. We must bring together efforts by policy-makers, non-profit organizations, Dutch citizens, and immigrants to develop a nationwide network of understanding and compassion for migrants in a globalizing society.



Autonoom Centrum, ‘Vlucht naar voren, een pamflet over migratie en toekomst’, 1999 (Amsterdam)

M.E. Jonkman-te Winkel, ‘Illegalen aan het werk, over ontmoediging en solidariteit’, 1994 (The Hague)

S.A.. Reijneveld, L.M. van Herten, ‘Toegankelijkheid van zorg voor illegalen’, 2000 (Leiden)

R. Loeffen, W. v.d. Schans, ‘Nederland Open U, noodzaak en mogelijkheden van een ander migratiebeleid’, 1994, (Amsterdam)

Autonoom Centrum, ‘Vluchtelingen toen en nu’, Nieuwsbrief 8, 1995 (Amsterdam)

Autonoom Centrum, ‘Grensgevangenen’, 1999 (Amsterdam)

Met Dank Aan:

Ed Hollants 

T & A Westra

Jan Divendal

mevr. Bijl

broeder Piet

Kourt van Barneveld

Rudi Speears

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HIA Program:

Netherlands Netherlands 2001


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