Controversial immigration rules are dividing opinion — and families

Thousands of families stand to be torn apart as a power struggle rages on between the UK government and courts.

In the latest conflict between the coalition and the judges, over 15,000 families face being separated by government policy.

The Home Office is appealing this summer’s High Court judgment, which found new immigration rules on partners and children joining their families in the UK breach basic human rights.

Last month (5 July), three families won a judicial review of new immigration rules which required British citizens and refugees to earn at least £18,600 if they want to bring a non-European partner into the UK, rising to £22,400 if a partner and child are coming, plus £2,400 for each additional child.

Justice Blake ruled that the new earnings threshold was not unlawful] in itself, but it was a ‘disproportionate’ interference with the right to a family life at the level it was set, especially as it was combined with other onerous rules. For example, the requirement that applicants must have at least £16,000 in the bank if they want to use savings to supplement an income less than the £18,600 threshold.

Justice Blake suggested a lower threshold of £13,500, which would be less likely to penalise young couples, and he also proposed taking into account the earnings of the incoming partner, who may well be the main breadwinner.

The ruling culminated months of campaigning by separated families, human rights lawyers and MPs and came hot on the tails of a June report by the All-Party Parliamentary Group on Migration, which called for an independent review of the rules in light of “emerging evidence about what must be the unintended consequences” - including, it said, the cost to the public purse.

Yet the government remains adamant that the new rules are fair and economically sound and has launched an appeal against the High Court ruling. Earlier this month, House of Lords whip Lord Taylor of Holbeach sent a letter to peers defending the measures.

Lord Taylor insisted that a Middlesex University study which found that preventing 17,800 partners coming to work in the UK would cost £850million in lost economic activity over 10 years, did not include costs such as welfare, health and education.  Lord Taylor argued that the net benefit of the income threshold barrier to family immigration will be £660m to the taxpayer over the next decade.

“The aims of the income threshold are to ensure that family migrants are supported at a reasonable level so that they do not become a burden on the taxpayer and they can participate sufficiently in everyday life to facilitate their integration in British society,” maintained Lord Taylor. 

What is clear is that thousands of husbands, wives, fathers and mothers will suffer separation from their families under such rules.

The £18,600 figure came from advice by the UK Border Agency’s Migration Advisory Committee. Their November 2011 report suggested that 45 per cent of the 37,600 visas issued to migrants joining their spouse or partner that year would fail to meet an £18,600 income threshold. But the Committee warned that its advice was based on economic considerations alone, with no reference to wider legal, social or moral issues. Furthermore, it noted that its calculations relied on various assumptions and generalisations.

So just how arbitrary is the £18,600 income barrier to bring a loved one who may be earning more than you to the UK? It’s certainly far above the £12,875 minimum wage earnings for a 40 hour week.

But as usual, we have a government that says it is determined not to let the courts dictate public policy — even though the High Court’s judicial review in July was not overturning Home Office rules, just suggesting a few sensible amendments to make these family rules more workable and help comply with human rights.

The government’s intransigence suggests it fears discrimination or human rights claims if it loses the appeal.

Meanwhile the cost of these wranglings add up, as does the human cost of couples divided and children growing up not knowing their fathers.

Once again human rights, in this case the right to a family life, is the battle ground for an ugly squabble between government and the courts.

The Home Office is appealing this summer’s High Court judgment on the new immigration rules. Photo: Getty

Vanessa Ganguin is a partner at Laura Devine Solicitors. She is an immigration specialist and heads the firm’s human rights and appeals team.

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Erdogan’s purge was too big and too organised to be a mere reaction to the failed coup

There is a specific word for the melancholy of Istanbul. The city is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. 

Even at the worst of times Istanbul is a beautiful city, and the Bosphorus is a remarkable stretch of sea. Turks get very irritated if you call it a river. They are right. The Bosphorus has a life and energy that a river could never equal. Spend five minutes watching the Bosphorus and you can understand why Orhan Pamuk, Turkey’s Nobel laureate for literature, became fixated by it as he grew up, tracking the movements of the ocean-going vessels, the warships and the freighters as they steamed between Asia and Europe.

I went to an Ottoman palace on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, waiting to interview the former prime minister Ahmet Davu­toglu. He was pushed out of office two months ago by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan when he appeared to be too wedded to the clauses in the Turkish constitution which say that the prime minister is the head of government and the president is a ceremonial head of state. Erdogan was happy with that when he was prime minister. But now he’s president, he wants to change the constitution. If Erdogan can win the vote in parliament he will, in effect, be rubber-stamping the reality he has created since he became president. In the days since the attempted coup, no one has had any doubt about who is the power in the land.

 

City of melancholy

The view from the Ottoman palace was magnificent. Beneath a luscious, pine-shaded garden an oil tanker plied its way towards the Black Sea. Small ferries dodged across the sea lanes. It was not, I hasten to add, Davutoglu’s private residence. It had just been borrowed, for the backdrop. But it reminded a Turkish friend of something she had heard once from the AKP, Erdogan’s ruling party: that they would not rest until they were living in the apartments with balconies and gardens overlooking the Bosphorus that had always been the preserve of the secular elite they wanted to replace.

Pamuk also writes about hüzün, the melancholy that afflicts the citizens of Istanbul. It comes, he says, from the city’s history and its decline, the foghorns on the Bosphorus, from tumbledown walls that have been ruins since the fall of the Byzantine empire, unemployed men in tea houses, covered women waiting for buses that never come, pelting rain and dark evenings: the city’s whole fabric and all the lives within it. “My starting point,” Pamuk wrote, “was the emotion that a child might feel while looking through a steamy window.”

Istanbul is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. In Pamuk’s work the citizens of Istanbul take a perverse pride in hüzün. No one in Istanbul, or elsewhere in Turkey, can draw comfort from what is happening now. Erdogan’s opponents wonder what kind of future they can have in his Turkey. I think I sensed it, too, in the triumphalist crowds of Erdogan supporters that have been gathering day after day since the coup was defeated.

 

Down with the generals

Erdogan’s opponents are not downcast because the coup failed; a big reason why it did was that it had no public support. Turks know way too much about the authoritarian ways of military rule to want it back. The melancholy is because Erdogan is using the coup to entrench himself even more deeply in power. The purge looks too far-reaching, too organised and too big to have been a quick reaction to the attempt on his power. Instead it seems to be a plan that was waiting to be used.

Turkey is a deeply unhappy country. It is hard to imagine now, but when the Arab uprisings happened in 2011 it seemed to be a model for the Middle East. It had elections and an economy that worked and grew. When I asked Davutoglu around that time whether there would be a new Ottoman sphere of influence for the 21st century, he smiled modestly, denied any such ambition and went on to explain that the 2011 uprisings were the true succession to the Ottoman empire. A century of European, and then American, domination was ending. It had been a false start in Middle Eastern history. Now it was back on track. The people of the region were deciding their futures, and perhaps Turkey would have a role, almost like a big brother.

Turkey’s position – straddling east and west, facing Europe and Asia – is the key to its history and its future. It could be, should be, a rock of stability in a desperately un­stable part of the world. But it isn’t, and that is a problem for all of us.

 

Contagion of war

The coup did not come out of a clear sky. Turkey was in deep crisis before the attempt was made. Part of the problem has come from Erdogan’s divisive policies. He has led the AKP to successive election victories since it first won in 2002. But the policies of his governments have not been inclusive. As long as his supporters are happy, the president seems unconcerned about the resentment and opposition he is generating on the other side of politics.

Perhaps that was inevitable. His mission, as a political Islamist, was to change the country, to end the power of secular elites, including the army, which had been dominant since Mustafa Kemal Atatürk created modern Turkey after the collapse of the Ottoman empire. And there is also the influence of chaos and war in the Middle East. Turkey has borders with Iraq and Syria, and is deeply involved in their wars. The borders do not stop the contagion of violence. Hundreds of people have died in the past year in bomb attacks in Turkish cities, some carried out by the jihadists of so-called Islamic State, and some sent by Kurdish separatists working under the PKK.

It is a horrible mix. Erdogan might be able to deal with it better if he had used the attempted coup to try to unite Turkey. All the parliamentary parties condemned it. But instead, he has turned the power of the state against his opponents. More rough times lie ahead.

Jeremy Bowen is the BBC’s Middle East editor. He tweets @bowenbbc

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue