What of our long-resident irregular immigrants?

Tim Finch and IPPR find “no easy options”.

As the government introduces increasingly restrictive measures to cut down on legal immigration, the problem of the large and long-resident illegal or irregular immigrant population remains largely unresolved.

This population built up in the late 1990s and first decade of this century when international migration boomed and the UK's immigration systems proved hopelessly inadequate to the task of managing inflows and outflows.

Anyone who has worked in the migration sector, as I have, will have heard frequent stories of people who have stayed in this country for many years with no legal status, who've been able to find work and accommodation, who've started relationships or even families, and who've put down roots. They shouldn't really be here, but they are – and removing them after so long is difficult, to say the least.

In a major new IPPR report called No Easy Options we set ourselves the task of trying to come up with new ideas to solve this thorny issue. As the title implies, we certainly did not find a magic solution. Rather, we concluded that this government will have to pursue a raft of policies over many years, starting in the countries of origin and following the whole migrant journey.

Public information campaigns, tighter visa regimes, greater co-operation with transit countries, more sophisticated border security, embarcation controls, enhanced enforcement measures and a suite of return and resolution initiatives – all will be needed if the scale of irregularity is to be reduced.

Scale on its own is an issue, as the irregular population almost certainly runs into the hundreds of thousands. However, perhaps more important, in our view, is the impact that widespread irregularity has on the public's tolerance of immigration. This country needs migrants and migrants make an important contribution, but it is clear that the public will be persuaded of that only if the government can demonstrate that it can keep control of who comes and who goes.

It is often the case, as many campaigners argue, that irregulars are not doing much or any harm, as well as making an economic contribution. In our extensive research, we found individual irregular immigrants to be generally hard-working, decent, nice people. Their dreams and aspirations of a better life are perfectly laudable. But that is not the point. There is a system of rules, and they are breaking them. If this is allowed to persist, the integrity of the immigration system is badly damaged – and with it public confidence in migration in general.

Flexible friends

Some on the progressive wing of the migration debate have favoured the idea of a mass regularisation programme – or amnesty – arguing that most irregulars are innocent victims of the injustices and inefficiencies of the immigration system. There is a lot in this claim and, indeed, IPPR in the past has supported it. But in this report, we come out against the idea.

Again the reasons are as much about political realism as they are about the merits or otherwise of amnesties (in truth, the pros and cons are pretty finely balanced). The most recent survey data suggests that fewer than one in four of the public backs regularisation and mainstream political support for it has evaporated since the issue played so badly for the Liberal Democrats in the 2010 general election.

Better in our mind is to increase the flexibility and generosity of the current system – which, despite its harsh rhetoric (see for example Damian Green's response to the report in the Guardian), actually already provides opportunities for "quiet" regularisation. We would favour extending and embedding these measures so that special cases, such as stateless people or those facing obvious danger on return, could be subject to "status resolution", at least temporarily.

We also argue that the many thousands of minor infringers (short-term overstayers, for instance) should be offered the opportunity of "recompliance", taking them out of irregularity.

At the same time, we think migrant-supporting organisations need to recognise that return will often be the only option for an irregular immigrant, and they can best serve the welfare of their clients if they work with the authorities to make the return process as painless and supportive as possible.

At present, it has become something of a badge of honour among some organisations to fight return in almost every instance – though it is interesting that since our report went to press one of the leading refugee charities, Refugee Action, has taken over the voluntary return schemes previously administered by the International Organisation for Migration. This is very positive step.

Eyes on the endgame

Meanwhile, this government needs to learn from the last that acting smart and playing it long is a better approach than acting tough and chasing quick wins.

Our evidence suggests that the "hostile environment" strategy of making life more difficult for irregulars and their employers, as well as increasing raids and crackdowns, is certainly having an impact on the lives of irregulars – but it isn't delivering the desired endgame of more return.

Figures in our report show that the level of return doubled between 1997 and 2002, but since then has plateaued at around the 60,000-65,000 per annum mark. If this number is to increase, then a greater range of actions, involving a great number of actors (and yes, greater investment) will be needed.

For this to happen, the government needs to lead the way in taking a more co-operative, less combative approach on the issue, reaching out to those who work in the field and enlisting them in the process of increasing the numbers who return.

It will also need to consider one other thing that is politically very difficult. Irregular immigrants are able to survive in this country because there is work for them do. Most of it is at the bottom end of the labour market.

If irregular immigration is to be squeezed out of the system, but the "pull factor" or demand side that drives it persists, ministers will have to face up to the need, over time, for some legal routes for low-skilled and no-skilled immigration from outside the EU to be opened up.

Tim Finch is director of communications at IPPR.

Tim Finch is director of communications for IPPR

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Why Nigel Farage is hoovering up all the women I know

Beware young fogeys.

I can’t remember where I was when I first worked out that I was older than Nigel Farage. You’d think after that bombshell went off, you’d still be able to locate the crater. Anyway, there it is: the cut-price little Oswald Mosley is about a year younger than me.

I mention this not because I want to dwell on the nasty piece of shit, but because I’ve been having to face, at one remove, so to speak, the problem of young fogeyism. It seems to be all around. And not only that, it’s hoovering up women I know.

The first time it happened was with B——. She was going to come round last weekend, but then emailed to cancel the day before, because she was going to watch rugby – apparently there’s some kind of tournament on, but it never seems to end – with her boyfriend. How ghastly, I said, or words to that effect; I’d rather die.

She then made the Category One mistake of saying, “Rugby, cricket, all the same to me,” with a cheeky little “x” at the end of it.

I replied thus: Rugby is a violent and brutal game (the coy term is “contact sport”, which means you get to – indeed, are encouraged to – injure the opposing team as often as you can, in the absence of any other tactic) loved by fascists, or, at best, those with suspicious ideas about the order of society with which I doubt you, B——, would wish to be aligned. Also, only people of immense bulk and limited intelligence can play it. Cricket is a game of deep and subtle strategy, capable of extraordinary variation, which is appreciated across the class spectrum, and is also so democratically designed that even the less athletic – such as I – can play it. [I delete here, for your comfort, a rant of 800 or so words in which I develop my theory that cricket is a bulwark against racism, and rugby, er, isn’t.] Both are dismayingly over-represented at the national level by ex-public-school boys; cricket as a matter of historical accident (the selling-off of school playing fields under Thatcher and Major), rugby as a matter of policy. Have a lovely day watching it.

Two things to note. 1) This woman is not, by either birth or ancestry, from a part of the world where rugby is played. 2) You wouldn’t have thought she was one of nature’s rugby fans, as she considers that Jeremy Corbyn is a good person to be leading the Labour Party. (True, thousands of Tories think the same thing, but for completely different reasons.)

That’s Exhibit A. Exhibit B is my old friend C——, whom I haven’t seen for about five years or so but suddenly pops up from the past to say hello, how about a drink? I always liked C—— very much, largely because she’s very funny and, let’s be frank about this, something of a sexpot. She seems keen to bring someone over with her who, reading between the lines like a modern-day Sherlock Holmes, I deduce to be her latest partner. The thing is, she says, she’s not sure he can come, because he might be going beagling.

Beagling?

Well, she does come round (alone, thank goodness) and she’s looking even better than I remember, and is even funnier, too, and she shows me some of the pictures she has put up on her profile page on some dating site, and they’re not the kind of photographs this magazine will ever publish, let’s leave it at that. (One of them even moves.) And, as it turns out – and it doesn’t really surprise me that much – the young beagler she is seeing is a good thirty years-plus younger than she, and his photograph shows him to be all ears and curls, like a transporter mix-up between Prince Charles and the young David Gower. Like B——’s young man, he is not called Gervaise or Peregrine but may as well be.

What on Earth is going on here? Can we blame Farage? I can understand the pull of the void, but this is getting ridiculous. Do they not quite understand what they’re doing? Actually, C—— does, because she’s had her eyes open all her life, and B——, her youth and political idealism notwithstanding, didn’t exactly come down in the last shower, either.

So what is it with these young wannabe toffs – one of whom isn’t even rich? “You’d like him,” C—— says, but I’m not so sure. People who go beagling sure as hell don’t like me, and I see no reason not to return the favour.

Well, I can’t thrash this out here. C—— leaves, but not before giving me the kind of kiss that makes me wish Binkie Beagley, or whatever his name is, would just wink out of existence.

Nicholas Lezard is a literary critic for the Guardian and also writes for the Independent. He writes the Down and Out in London column for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times