When I heard about the decision to strip Shamima Begum of her British citizenship, two years ago, I went cold. Like me, she had been born and raised in east London. My mum tried to make me feel better: “Begum ran away to join ISIS, that’s a pretty exceptional case,” she told me. That wasn’t the point. Ever since my brother and I were little, my parents had drilled into us that we were just as ‘British’ as anyone else, that we had just as much right to belong because we were born in Britain. Now, I realised that wasn’t true. I knew that if they could do it to Begum, they could do it to me.
The new Nationality and Borders bill, if it passes unamended, will allow the state to strip people of their British citizenship without notice. This potentially affects 41% of people in England and Wales from an ethnic minority background, versus 5% of white citizens. The bill also allows for the removal of asylum seekers to other countries, as in the recently announced £120m deal with Rwanda. It also makes it a criminal offence to arrive in Britain without permission; requires Border Force to push back boats crossing the Channel; and expands the use of ‘accommodation centres’ like Napier Barracks.
People are rightly horrified by the Rwanda deal. The Archbishop of Canterbury has called it “ungodly”. A total of 160 charities and campaign groups have described it as “shamefully cruel”. A snap poll showed voters oppose the plan. The president of the Law Society of England and Wales has questioned whether it complies with international law.
