There is still something to gain from citizenship. Photo: Getty
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More EU migrants are becoming British citizens – but why would they bother?

What is the point of citizenship?

As the pound strengthens against the euro, the latest data from the ONS show that there has been a rise in migrant workers to the UK from other EU countries. But while the focus has been on the numbers of migrants working in the UK, a more interesting development is clear from a different set of data – the government’s figures on citizenship.

The last fifteen years have seen a surge in the number of people becoming British citizens – the total number of citizenship grants has more than doubled since the early 2000s. At first glance, this isn’t surprising. There’s been a lot more migration to the UK in recent decades, and there are plenty of benefits to becoming a citizen, from having unrestricted entry into the UK to not having to worry about visas when looking for work.

But in the data there’s something that is surprising: the number of EU migrants becoming citizens has also increased, particularly migrants from the ‘A8’ countries in Central and Eastern European that joined the EU in 2004. The numbers are still small – only around 18,000 in 2013 – but there’s a clear positive trend. For A8 migrants, the rise kicked in from around 2009 onwards. This makes sense: you usually need to reside in Britain for five years before applying for citizenship, and accession took place in 2004.

Click on graph to enlarge

The odd thing about this is that EU migrants are legally entitled to many of the rights of British citizens. It’s true that there are a few things EU migrants can’t do without becoming British citizens – like vote in general elections. And there are also additional rules around benefits, some of which have come into play recently – for instance, EU jobseekers have to wait three months and then face a residency test if they want to get income-based jobseeker’s allowance. But EU migrants are generally entitled to the same benefits as British citizens – and after five years of staying in the UK EU migrants have the right to permanent residence. What with all the extra costs and hassle involved in applying for citizenship (the standard naturalisation fee is currently £906), it’s not clear why EU migrants would bother.

There is one stand-out reason. Given all the news about a future referendum on the UK’s membership of the EU, the potential renegotiation of freedom of movement rules, and a clampdown on benefits, some migrants from A8 countries might feel that their position is a little more precarious than the current law suggests.

IPPR found some examples of this reasoning while carrying out the research for our recent report ‘Shared Ground’. Emilija, a young parent in Normanton, talked to us about her reasons for wanting to become a UK citizen: ‘I’ve read in the paper they are going to kick us out, so I would do it [gain British citizenship] for security. It won’t change a lot, but I would feel more comfortable.’

This explanation for the surge raises an important question: what’s the point of citizenship? For the French revolutionaries, becoming a citizen was about no longer being a subject: it was a fundamental reconfiguration of the relationship between the individual and the state. Britain has a very different history (on some accounts, we are technically still subjects rather than citizens). But citizenship still contains a moral dimension: it’s about rootedness, commitment, and stability. Being a citizen is about more than accruing a set of entitlements; it’s about establishing a bond with the UK and with your local neighbourhood. Citizenship encourages people to settle permanently and reduces the population churn that can at times undermine cohesion and put pressure on public services. And, according to IPPR research on public attitudes to migration, there is wide public support for permanent settlement as opposed to temporary residence and churn.

So even if the reasons for the boost in citizenship numbers from A8 countries are largely pragmatic, the act of acquiring citizenship is still an important way of strengthening the ties of new migrants to the UK. That’s why the government should focus on encouraging more people to become citizens and making sure that the process of becoming a citizen is a meaningful one. At IPPR we’ve advocated auto-enrolling migrants on a path to citizenship after five years to encourage people to become citizens. We’ve also outlined plans for a more localised, community-focused citizenship test, based on the realities of daily life in the UK.

These measures should apply just as much to EU migrants as to newcomers from outside the EU. Yes, their legal status is different, and they have less to gain from British citizenship. But national citizenship still matters, above and beyond the sum of its material benefits. The surge in citizenship is something to be embraced, for EU and non-EU migrants alike.

Marley Morris is a researcher at IPPR

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Fears over Notting Hill Carnival reveal more about racism than reality

Statistically, the event is about as safe as Glastonbury.

Notting Hill carnival is terrifying. As soon as the sun sets, gangs emerge ready to prey on unsuspecting attendees with Red Stripe cans fashioned into knives. Children barter for drugs. Dancing is punctuated by ceremonial burials for those killed in between every dancehall tune. And that's just on the kids’ day.

Except, it's not true. Statistically, the event is about as safe as Glastonbury - if not safer, judging by the number of arrests. In 2015, Glasto was praised for its low arrest rate (75 arrests for a crowd of 135,000), but in the same year carnival had ten times the capacity and fewer than ten times the offences.

Despite these statistics, the police, MPs and newspapers seem desperate to paint carnival as a gang-run danger zone. The Met Police recently tweeted about a kilo of heroin seized in the run up to carnival, despite not even knowing whether the perpetrators were going to the event. MPs, such as former Kensington MP Victoria Borwick, are happy to fuel this fire, claiming to be concerned about the supposed “year on year increase in violence and physical harm to our police officers and members of the public”. Newspapers revel in publishing large spreads about the raids in the run up to the two days, despite lacking evidence they’re even connected. Break this down and it’s clear: this dislike towards carnival roots itself in racism - the presumption that a festival celebrating black, West Indian culture, frequented by a higher proportion of black British punters, must inevitably, be violent.

I have been attending carnival since the age of six, when my parents moved to the area (90s gentrification alert). I used to sell Ribena for a markup on my street, took part in the float my primary school ran and every year witnessed the incredible recontextualisation of the area. Gone is the whitewashing for a moment: the streets and houses become splattered in neon paint, jerk chicken boxes and Red Stripe cans. It is one of the best things to happen to the area, and its vast cultural value exceeds the bougie cafes and boutique clothing stalls that span the area.

And yet, every year, I have to dodge questions from relatives and friends about how dangerous it supposedly is. “Ooh, Notting Hill carnival. Bit scary, isn't it? Lots of angry youth who can get quite violent I hear. Didn't someone get stabbed last year?” Perhaps a viable question to ask anyone going to a crowded event. Except, why weren’t they asking me this when I flew to Amsterdam this year to go to a music festival?

There's another side of critiquing carnival that is equally infuriating, and that's that the fact that the event in some ways stands as a consolation prize to the original tenants of the area. In the middle of the 20th Century, Notting Hill was far from the Russian oligarch haven it is today. It was the Windrush Era, when black immigrants began arriving from the Caribbean. They came not out of some overwhelming desire to be freezing for 11 months, but because Britain was struggling after the Second World War, and desperately needed a labour force. Despite the demand, the West Indians were met with hostility and racism, forced to live in the worst areas of London. One of those places was Notting Hill.

Imagine, then, the audacity of shaming carnival. Imagine being forced by racism into a rundown neighbourhood, turning it into something fashionable, and then being priced out by middle-class white people. Imagine on top of that, having your legacy celebration degraded under the guise of safety concerns.

This year will feel different. It will be the first year ever under a Labour MP. It will also come two months and a half months after the Grenfell fire, where many of its residents and victims will have taken part in the event. Whilst there’s something defiant in these parades, it will be hard for the collective joy not to be marred by a knowledge that somewhere in this borough, bodies are being buried because of our council.

We need to see carnival for what it is: a celebration of a culture struggling to stay afloat in the area. Kensington continues to edge out those who may not be living in £2.5m homes - whether it’s with rising house prices, creating anxiety around an event or even putting lives at risk due to sheer disregard and greed. If you’re worried about going, I would avoid all large, crowded events in general, because there’s no use believing the vacuous and racist hype. Beyond getting splattered with paint and dancing too enthusiastically to Bashment, there’s nothing to fear.