Out of sight, out of mind

Current UK immigration policy on the revocation of citizenship can be distilled to a simple premise: we absolve ourselves of the responsibility for anyone we deem to be problematic

Between the sharp rise in the number of persons born in the UK who are being deprived of their citizenship to the raft of deportations and the Windrush scandal, the UK government has shown a loosening of the concept of citizenship.

The ability to revoke the naturalisation of any individual who acted in a manner inconsistent with his allegiance as a British subject was described by Lord Houghton in 1870 as a “transcendental power, more than any man should possess”. At the time, Lord Houghton was concerned that too much power was being placed in the hands of the executive and that the proposed changes to law were discriminatory as they dealt with naturalised citizens in a manner that was different to those who had been born in Britain.

Parliament agreed at the time with Lord Houghton, and the proposed legislation was rejected. Subsequent amendments to British law however have meant that the ability to strip persons of British citizenship is now entrenched. It was first permitted in 1914 during wartime conditions and later laws, including the wide-ranging British Nationality Act, 1981 which redefined citizenship, affirmed the government’s right to do so. A 2014 amendment to the Immigration Act, for example, institutionalised the so-called “hostile environment” in the UK.

The deportations to Jamaica, the Shamima Begum and ‘Jihadi Jack’ cases and the Windrush scandal all highlight the effects of the government’s power. The deportations raise the question of whether individuals, many of whom were brought to the UK as children, should be seen as “foreign” because they committed a crime when, had they not done so, they might have been seen as British. Not that this issue is unique to Britain: Australia and New Zealand are also grappling with similar issues.

The revocation of the citizenship of British jihadis who have fought for the cause of Islamic State in Syria or Iraq, is breathtaking in its reach as it is about the ability of the government to revoke the citizenship of a British-born person whose status as a first- or second-generation citizen means they may tenuously be entitled to claim the nationality of another country through descent. The Windrush scandal relates to British citizens whom the authorities refused to recognise as such whether because of their country of origin, ethnic background or otherwise. All three examples throw stark relief on the UK’s perception of citizenship and exactly who is entitled to claim it.

In the past, the power of revocation was used sparingly. The last 20 years, with the rise of global terrorism and a growing trend towards state-sanctioned xenophobia have seen the number of persons being deprived of their citizenship dramatically increase. During World War I, fewer than 40 Britons had their nationality revoked while during World War II, just four were stripped. Between 1973 and 2006, only two people had their citizenship revoked but over the next four years the number had risen to nine. Since 2010, it is estimated that more than 150 people have been stripped of citizenship on the grounds that it is “conducive to the public good” to do so. The government has refused to provide exact figures for the number of people who have been deprived of their British citizenship in the name of counterterrorism, and the practice continues despite an official review warning that the power to exile citizens may be an ineffective and counter productive weapon against terrorism as there is no evidence that increasing the use of citizenship deprivation makes the British public safer.

So the numbers have risen, but more insidious is the fact that the power to revoke citizenship appears in practice to be creating separate and distinct classes of British citizens. One of the justifications given by the Home Office for the revocation of Begum’s citizenship is that she is entitled to Bangladeshi citizenship through her parents. This means that a person with recourse to another citizenship, regardless of their connection to that country, is effectively being told their so-called “Britishness” is contingent upon continued good behaviour. This caveat extends to the children of immigrants, Jews as well as persons from Northern Ireland. Conversely, the rights of persons without recourse to any other citizenship are protected and exist in perpetuity.

It has been suggested that the government’s policy is a reflection of a change in the way in which citizenship is now viewed. It is no longer seen to be a right that should not be arbitrarily removed by the state, but a privilege. This distinction is further coloured by the belief that certain people do not deserve to be British and, because these changes apply primarily to jihadists or to criminals, most people accept them without question.