Home Secretary Theresa May wants to expand powers to remove UK citizenship. Photo: Getty
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Theresa May's citizenship-stripping proposal is worse than medieval banishment

The Home Secretary should remember the US Supreme Court's description of making someone stateless: "a form of punishment more primitive than torture".

In medieval England, those who had been forced to “abjure the realm” and go into exile would be required to walk barefoot, carrying a wooden cross, to the nearest port.  There, they were to take passage on the first available ship; until they were able to do so, they had to wade, daily, into the sea, as testimony to their willingness to leave the country.

This specific provision is absent from the Home Secretary’s proposed expansion of her powers to arbitrarily deprive Britons of their citizenship – expected to be considered again by MPs this week.  But the echo of the medieval punishment of banishment in the modern measure of ‘citizenship-stripping’ is impossible to ignore. It has perhaps been best summed up by the Supreme Court of the United States, which has described the practice of making someone stateless by removing their citizenship as “a form of punishment more primitive than torture.”

And in some ways, the modern procedure of which Theresa May is so fond is worse than its centuries-old equivalent.  By and large, those medieval unfortunates forced to abjure the realm were not at risk of further punishment from the state provided they stayed out of the country.  The same cannot be said of those who have been deprived of British citizenship under the current government's existing, limited powers, which they are currently seeking to expand.  According to the Bureau of Investigative Journalism, of the estimated 37 people who have had their passports torn up by the current British Home Secretary, two have so far been killed in covert US drone strikes, and one has been kidnapped and “rendered,” also by the US. 

Conveniently for both governments, the removal of British nationality from these people means that the obligations on the British authorities – in terms of the provision of consular services to those detained, or the carrying out of an inquest into the deaths of those killed overseas – are lifted.

As leading lawyer Baroness Kennedy QC put it during the Lords debate on these proposals, contained in the Immigration Bill:

“Is... the purpose of this change of law, that we might be able to do things that make people vulnerable and deny them their rights, creating yet more black holes where no law obtains but where we cannot be accused of complicity?”

Notably, this was not a question to which the government minister responded.  Despite a growing body of evidence demonstrating the UK's involvement in CIA activities ranging from rendition and torture to the covert drone programme, the British government – on the grounds that it must avoid at all costs embarrassing its US ally – has refused to come clean over its role in any of them. 

This way of thinking is not limited to parliament – it has also infected the British Courts.  Last year, a High Court judge told one of the victims of CIA torture that although he had a “well-founded claim,” he should not be allowed to pursue his case for fear of damaging UK-US relations.

Meanwhile, on the covert drone programme, despite a wave of reports demonstrating that the UK supports it by providing everything from intelligence to crucial infrastructure at US bases on British soil, UK ministers have stonewalled, refusing to go any further than the bland statement that “the use of unmanned aerial vehicles against terrorist targets is a matter for the states involved.”

The picture that emerges from all this is of a Britain which is prepared to take measures that even the US has long determined to be beyond the pale.  It is worth returning here to that US Supreme Court ruling mentioned above, which railed against “subject[ing someone] to banishment, a fate universally decried by civilized people,” and making them “stateless, a condition deplored in the international community of democracies.”

Home Secretary Theresa May's measures – which would lift the ban on depriving someone of citizenship, even where doing so would render them stateless – were defeated in the Lords last month.  But the government is expected to seek their return in the Commons this week.  Aside from putting Britain beyond the “civilized... community of democracies,” in the US Supreme Court's words, they will open up many millions of Britons to the threat of the arbitrary loss of their citizenship, and, potentially, leave them vulnerable to the lawless excesses of the ‘War on Terror’: kidnap or death by drone.

It seems safe to say that the sight of would-be exiles wading into the sea at the Channel ports is not set to return.  But the arbitrary nature of these powers, which allow the Home Secretary to act without any legal process and without any crime having been committed, would be all too familiar to the medieval despots of this country’s past.

Donald Campbell is Head of Communications at Reprieve

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The most terrifying thing about Donald Trump's speech? What he didn't say

No politician uses official speeches to put across their most controversial ideas. But Donald Trump's are not hard to find. 

As Donald Trump took the podium on a cold Washington day to deliver his inauguration speech, the world held its breath. Viewers hunched over televisions or internet streaming services watched Trump mouth “thank you” to the camera, no doubt wondering how he could possibly live up to his deranged late-night Twitter persona. In newsrooms across America, reporters unsure when they might next get access to a president who seems to delight in denying them the right to ask questions got ready to parse his words for any clue as to what was to come. Some, deciding they couldn’t bear to watch, studiously busied themselves with other things.

But when the moment came, Trump’s speech was uncharacteristically professional – at least compared to his previous performances. The fractured, repetitive grammar that marks many of his off-the-cuff statements was missing, and so, too, were most of his most controversial policy ideas.

Trump told the crowd that his presidency would “determine the course of America, and the world, for many, many years to come” before expressing his gratefulness to President Barack Obama and Michelle Obama for their “gracious aid” during the transition. “They have been magnificent," Trump said, before leading applause of thanks from the crowd.

If this opening was innocent enough, however, it all changed in the next breath. The new president moved quickly to the “historic movement”, “the likes of which the world has never seen before”, that elected him President. Following the small-state rhetoric of his campaign, Trump promised to take power from the “establishment” and restore it to the American people. “This moment," he told them, “Is your moment. It belongs to you.”

A good deal of the speech was given over to re-iterating his nationalist positions while also making repeated references to the key issues – “Islamic terrorism” and families – that remain points of commonality within the fractured Republican GOP.

The loss of business to overseas producers was blamed for “destroying our jobs”. “Protection," Trump said, “Will lead to great strength." He promised to end what he called the “American carnage” caused by drugs and crime.

“From this day forward," Trump said, “It’s going to be only America first."

There was plenty in the speech, then, that should worry viewers, particularly if you read Trump’s promises to make America “unstoppable” so it can “win” again in light of his recent tweets about China

But it was the things Trump didn't mention that should worry us most. Trump, we know, doesn’t use official channels to communicate his most troubling ideas. From bizarre television interviews to his upsetting and offensive rallies and, of course, the infamous tweets, the new President is inclined to fling his thoughts into the world as and when he sees fit, not on the occasions when he’s required to address the nation (see, also, his anodyne acceptance speech).

It’s important to remember that Trump’s administration wins when it makes itself seem as innocent as possible. During the speech, I was reminded of my colleague Helen Lewis’ recent thoughts on the “gaslighter-in-chief”, reflecting on Trump’s lying claim that he never mocked a disabled reporter. “Now we can see," she wrote, “A false narrative being built in real time, tweet by tweet."

Saying things that are untrue isn’t the only way of lying – it is also possible to lie by omission.

There has been much discussion as to whether Trump will soften after he becomes president. All the things this speech did not mention were designed to keep us guessing about many of the President’s most controversial promises.

Trump did not mention his proposed ban on Muslims entering the US, nor the wall he insists he will erect between America and Mexico (which he maintains the latter will pay for). He maintained a polite coolness towards the former President and avoiding any discussion of alleged cuts to anti-domestic violence programs and abortion regulations. Why? Trump wanted to leave viewers unsure as to whether he actually intends to carry through on his election rhetoric.

To understand what Trump is capable of, therefore, it is best not to look to his speeches on a global stage, but to the promises he makes to his allies. So when the President’s personal website still insists he will build a wall, end catch-and-release, suspend immigration from “terror-prone regions” “where adequate screening cannot occur”; when, despite saying he understands only 3 per cent of Planned Parenthood services relate to abortion and that “millions” of women are helped by their cancer screening, he plans to defund Planned Parenthood; when the president says he will remove gun-free zones around schools “on his first day” - believe him.  

Stephanie Boland is digital assistant at the New Statesman. She tweets at @stephanieboland