When you buy a London flat, you're not really becoming an owner

The weird reality of leaseholds.

Instead of buying a property, how about renting one? Only this will be a rental deal with a difference: I am going to make you sign a 100-year contract and demand that you pay the vast majority of the rent upfront. If any repairs need doing, of course I’ll arrange them for you. But I’m going to send you the bill. 

You want to argue? If you don’t pay, I am going to rip up the rental contract and you are going to lose all that money you
paid upfront.

Does that sound appealing? It is really just another way of describing leasehold, the form of property "ownership" which is almost universal in apartment buildings in England and yet hardly exists elsewhere on Earth. London boasts some of the world’s highest property prices, and yet many buyers are only vaguely aware that when they buy a flat — whether for £200,000 or £20m — they are not really becoming property owners at all. "But I am the owner," one buyer recently protested to me after seeing himself described as a "tenant" in his deeds. Oh no you’re not, I had to tell him. You’ve got 125 years of happy renting ahead of you. 

Leasehold is the basis of some of the largest private fortunes in Britain. The Duke of Westminster would be just another hard-up English aristocrat had his forbears sold off the freeholds of the properties built on their estate 200 years ago. Selling leases instead enabled the Grosvenor family to take money from the sales and yet continue to retain an interest in hundreds of properties in a prime central London residential district.

Yet leasehold seems increasingly incongruous with the present-day London property market. Billionaires, the representatives of global capitalism, can find themselves the tenants of English aristocrats, or quite possibly the tenants of a fly-by-night company operating from above a chip shop in north London. Freeholds are sometimes worth much less than the value of individual flats, with the result they can end up in the hands of small-time property barons with devious ways of squeezing money from their tenants.

Like all landlord-tenant relationships, that between freeholder and leaseholder is apt to go horribly wrong. And it isn’t just a case of people on the lowest rung of home ownership who find themselves being exploited by unscrupulous landlords. You can find hornets’ nests of anger and resentment in some of the poshest addresses in London.

In one case in Knightsbridge, flat-owners were each sent a demand for £14,000 for "major works" to the roof. If you totted up the contributions which had been asked of all leaseholders, it came to an astronomical sum way beyond anything which might reasonably have been spent on repairing a roof. What the money was really for, the leaseholders later found out, was building an extra two flats on the roof — which the freeholder was then going to sell entirely for his own benefit.

Most disputes between leaseholders and freeholders are for the same reason: excessive service charges. It is all too easy for freeholders to jack up the cost of repairs: add 15 per cent here and 20 per cent there. In some cases the costs end up being ridiculous: the tenant of a one-bedroom flat in Oxford ended up paying £9,300 a year. The value of the flat, as a result of the service charges, had fallen to just £15,000.

But in most cases of excessive charging, fees are pushed up to a level at which the leaseholder might groan yet not be quite moved to complain. Typical is the block of flats where leaseholders found 33 per cent was being added to their building insurance. How would you know you were being overcharged, without shopping around for insurance yourself?

Landlords are not supposed to exploit their leaseholders, and there are provisions in law to prevent them doing so. Leasehold Valuation Tribunals exist in order to settle disputes between the two parties. But in practice few leaseholders get round to challenging excessive charges; indeed, the process of doing so is itself expensive. Most quietly pay up or sell up, knowing that if they kick up a stink it will make it more difficult for them to sell their property.

The Leasehold and Commonhold Reform Act 2002 seemed initially to ring the death knell for leasehold. It enhanced powers that leaseholders already enjoyed: to exercise their collective right to buy the freehold of the buildings in which their flats are situated. In addition, it created a new form of tenure — commonhold — much more like the condominiums common in the US and many other countries. Under commonhold, owners of individual flats would jointly own the entire building. A decade on from the Act, there are still only a dozen commonhold developments in England.

Nor has there been any great uptake of enhanced powers of ‘enfranchisement’ — a term used to describe the joint purchase of a freehold by the leaseholders. One of the reasons for this is that it can take an extraordinary effort to gather the leaseholders and persuade them to agree to exercise their rights. The law requires at least 50 per cent of leaseholders to agree to the action. Knocking on doors is rarely successful: in a typical London block a large number of the leaseholders do not live in their flats. To contact them it may be necessary to trawl through the Land Registry. And even then it is quite likely that you will find flats that are owned by companies registered abroad.

Leaseholders who want to buy their way out of the system have to be prepared for a long and expensive battle: under the rules, leaseholders are liable to pay the landlord’s legal costs as well as their own. In one recent case in east London leaseholders succeeded in buying their freehold for £404,000, after suffering years of exaggerated service charges. The overcharging wasn’t quite finished, though: they found themselves having to pay another £169,000 in legal costs.

It is inertia that keeps leasehold going. Perhaps the London property boom will carry on for so long that buyers won’t worry too much about it. When you expect to make tens if not hundreds of thousands of pounds on the value of your lease, you might not care about a service charge that that is hundreds of pounds too high. It might be a different story if prices began to slide and owners were suddenly faced with the prospect of losing money. They might then begin to see themselves for what they really are: just like other tenants, paying through the nose to keep their landlord in fine wine.

This piece first appeared on Spears magazine.

A hotel in Mayfair. Photograph: Getty Images

Ross Clark is a writer for Spear's Magazine

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Meet Anne Marie Waters - the Ukip politician too extreme for Nigel Farage

In January 2016, Waters launched Pegida UK with former EDL frontman Steven Yaxley-Lennon (aka Tommy Robinson). 

There are few people in British political life who can be attacked from the left by Nigel Farage. Yet that is where Anne Marie Waters has found herself. And by the end of September she could well be the new leader of Ukip, a party almost synonymous with its beer-swilling, chain-smoking former leader.

Waters’s political journey is a curious one. She started out on the political left, but like Oswald Mosley before her, has since veered dramatically to the right. That, however, is where the similarities end. Waters is Irish, agnostic, a lesbian and a self-proclaimed feminist.

But it is her politics – rather than who she is – that have caused a stir among Ukip’s old guard. Former leader Paul Nuttall has said that her views make him “uncomfortable” while Farage has claimed Ukip is “finished” if, under her leadership, it becomes an anti-Islam party.

In her rhetoric, Waters echoes groups such as the English Defence League (EDL) and Britain First. She has called Islam “evil” and her leadership manifesto claims that the religion has turned Britain into a “fearful and censorious society”. Waters wants the banning of the burqa, the closure of all sharia councils and a temporary freeze on all immigration.

She started life in Dublin before moving to Germany in her teens to work as an au pair. Waters also lived in the Netherlands before returning to Britain to study journalism at Nottingham Trent University, graduating in 2003. She subsequently gained a second degree in law. It was then, she says, that she first learnt about Islam, which she claims treats women “like absolute dirt”. Now 39, Waters is a full-time campaigner who lives in Essex with her two dogs and her partner who is an accountant.

Waters’s first spell of serious activism was with the campaign group One Law for All, a secularist organisation fronted by the Iranian feminist and human rights activist Maryam Namazie. Waters resigned in November 2013 after four years with the organisation. According to Namazie, Waters left due to political disagreements over whether the group should collaborate with members of far-right groups.

In April 2014, Waters founded Sharia Watch UK and, in January 2016, she launched Pegida UK with former EDL frontman Steven Yaxley-Lennon (aka Tommy Robinson). The group was established as a British chapter of the German-based organisation and was set up to counter what it called the “Islamisation of our countries”. By the summer of 2016, it had petered out.

Waters twice stood unsuccessfully to become a Labour parliamentary candidate. Today, she says she could not back Labour due to its “betrayal of women” and “betrayal of the country” over Islam. After joining Ukip in 2014, she first ran for political office in the Lambeth council election, where she finished in ninth place. At the 2015 general election, Waters stood as the party’s candidate in Lewisham East, finishing third with 9.1 per cent of the vote. She was chosen to stand again in the 2016 London Assembly elections but was deselected after her role in Pegida UK became public. Waters was also prevented from standing in Lewisham East at the 2017 general election after Ukip’s then-leader Nuttall publicly intervened.

The current favourite of the 11 candidates standing to succeed Nuttall is deputy leader Peter Whittle, with Waters in second. Some had hoped the party’s top brass would ban her from standing but last week its national executive approved her campaign.

Due to an expected low turnout, the leadership contest is unpredictable. Last November, Nuttall was elected with just 9,622 votes. More than 1,000 new members reportedly joined Ukip in a two-week period earlier this year, prompting fears of far-right entryism.

Mike Hookem MEP has resigned as Ukip’s deputy whip over Waters’ candidacy, saying he would not “turn a blind eye” to extremism. By contrast, chief whip, MEP Stuart Agnew, is a supporter and has likened her to Joan of Arc. Waters is also working closely on her campaign with Jack Buckby, a former BNP activist and one of the few candidates to run against Labour in the by-election for Jo Cox’s former seat of Batley and Spen. Robinson is another backer.

Peculiarly for someone running to be the leader of a party, Waters does not appear to relish public attention. “I’m not a limelight person,” she recently told the Times. “I don’t like being phoned all the time.”

The journalist Jamie Bartlett, who was invited to the initial launch of Pegida UK in Luton in 2015, said of Waters: “She failed to remember the date of the demo. Her head lolled, her words were slurred, and she appeared to almost fall asleep while Tommy [Robinson] was speaking. After 10 minutes it all ground to an uneasy halt.”

In an age when authenticity is everything, it would be a mistake to underestimate yet another unconventional politician. But perhaps British Muslims shouldn’t panic about Anne Marie Waters just yet.

James Bloodworth is editor of Left Foot Forward

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear