Getty
Show Hide image

What happens to Norwegians in the UK after Brexit?

Norwegians long resident in the UK suddenly find there is no one to fight their corner. 

What’s it worth to have made another country your own? As Brexit looms, this is the question facing three million EU citizens living and working in Britain. What does it take before you can officially be counted as a person who belongs? Right now, there’s no answer to this conundrum as the UK government made it very clear in the run-up to Article 50: there are no guarantees for the future of Europeans in this country.

That includes Norwegians. While Norway is not a member of the European Union - and therefore can only indirectly influence Brexit negotiations - its citizens in the UK benefit from free movement rules, because Norway is part of the European Economic Area. And there is an extra complication - Norway doesn’t allow its people to take dual citizenship.

Hilde Grønsberg (36) came to England when she was 20 years old and has lived her whole adult life here. She has a British education, a British career, a British husband, and two British-born children - and Norwegian citizenship. Until Brexit, Grønsberg never thought much about her immigrant status. “People would ask me if I wanted to get an English passport and I'd say, why? There's nothing my Norwegian passport can't do. I've never felt the need to become a British citizen.”

Grønsberg, who lives in Southampton and works in charity, feels overwhelmed by what’s happening. She believes she’d qualify for a UK residency permit, but says she won’t be starting the bureaucratic process unless she’s told she faces deportation: “I don't think it's going to come to that. But maybe I'm being overly optimistic?” While the thought of having her life uprooted is frightening, Grønsberg can’t quite picture it happening - England is home. “I've started to get a bit rusty when I speak Norwegian. I struggle with the words. It does something to you, living so many years in another country.”

Oddi Aasheim (48), who came to London 29 years ago, has just watched his Hong Kong Chinese-born wife go through the process of becoming British. Aasheim, who’s a co-founder of a consultancy, has two UK-born children who’re Norwegians: “Staying Norwegian always seemed to be the best option, until Brexit.” The uncertainty of the current situation weighs heavily on Aasheim, both personally and professionally. “In the long term I’m not worried, as I believe things will fall into place. But I expect we will go into a period of chaos,” says Aasheim. “Even if they figure it out, it will probably be six months to a year before any paperwork is processed.”

Agnes Bamford (47) was never concerned about her immigrant status before. “I’m worried now. I'm starting a mortgage application, and I just read that some EU citizens aren't getting approved for mortgages. I feel a bit stateless at the moment.” Bamford, who’s a self-employed consultant, left Norway 22 years ago to join her Irish boyfriend in London. Bamford is now considering applying for permanent residency to ensure the family can stay in Britain, at least until her UK-born kids finish school.

Ideally, Bamford would like to apply for British citizenship, but that would mean relinquishing her Norwegian passport - a tough ask. Similarly to Austria, Norway has strict rules against acquiring a second citizenship, with few exceptions. But this may change: the question of dual citizenship is on the political agenda, says Donna Louise Fox, founder of Ja til Dobbelt Statsborgerskap (Yes to Dual Citizenship), an independent pressure group. A report from Norway’s Ministry of Justice and Public Security is expected after Easter, and the political parties will be determining their positions during the party conference season this spring. “There’s absolutely a possibility there’ll be a majority for dual citizenship in the next parliament,” Fox says in Norwegian. “It’s still uncertain,” she cautions, but dual citizenship for Norwegians could become possible from 2018.

*

Every year, Norway provides the Trafalgar Square Christmas tree as a thank you for Britain’s support during World War II. For several people I spoke to, this so-called special relationship represents hope that an agreement will be reached. But equally likely is that Norway, as a non-EU country, will be at the back of the negotiation queue.

Jane Nilsen (70) witnessed just how difficult it was for Europeans to gain the right to stay in Britain before the EU. “I married a Norwegian back in 1973. We were working on the car ferries in Southampton at the time.” Then her husband lost his job, and with that, his right to stay. Nilsen had to rush back to work after the birth of her youngest daughter, and her husband was eventually granted the right to stay in Britain: “You'd have thought it'd be automatic [as we were married], but he had to jump through all those hoops.”

Until Brexit negotiations are concluded, the is no way to predict the rules for EU and EEA citizens in Britain. Hanne Christiansen, Culture and Communications Officer at the Royal Norwegian Embassy in London, recommends people start collecting documentation such as utility bills and bank statements in anticipation of future paperwork. “Norwegian citizens living in the UK may [already now] want to apply for an EU registration certificate, which confirms your right to live in the UK,” says Christiansen. The Embassy receives many questions from people who are concerned about their future, says Christiansen, but she has little to offer in terms of reassurance: “[We] recommend that Norwegian citizens follow news from the British government on the negotiation process.”

Every Norwegian I spoke to expressed hope that rationality will win out - a Scandinavian attitude if there ever was one - and no one could bring themselves to truly believe they would be forced to leave Britain. Anita Holme Pearce (40) moved from Norway to Kirkby Fleetham in Yorkshire four years ago, after a decade’s long-distance-relationship with her British husband: ”That was the main reason I moved, so we could be together as a family.” Holme Pearce is currently a student, but like many Europeans she was unaware of obscure rules requiring non-citizens who’re not earning to have private health insurance in order to qualify for residency. Still, Holme Pearce isn’t worried: “I own property here that I’ve paid for, I’m married to an Englishman, our boys have British passports. I can't see that they will kick me out.” 

Bamford, on the other hand, says the situation has made her question if she really wants to live in Britain: “I don't feel as welcome anymore.” Brexit has also been a wake-up call to the fact that immigrants from Western Europe have had a very easy time in Britain until now: “I do feel more empathetic towards all those people who haven't had the same rights, and what they have to face,” says Bamford. “It makes you realise how vulnerable [most immigrants] feel.”

The uncertainty over Brexit won’t go away anytime soon, meaning Norwegians and other Europeans in Britain will have to live with this frustration for years. Some are angry, but the prevailing feeling is sadness over the realisation that the country where they’ve built their lives (and paid tax) may not care whether they stay or go. The poor political planning around Brexit exacerbates this feeling, says Grønsberg: “I don't think they have any idea what they're doing.” No one is disputing that this country belongs to the British, but the three million Europeans who’ve made it their home can’t help but feel that they deserve better than being left in limbo.

Picture: ANDRÉ CARRILHO
Show Hide image

Leader: Boris Johnson, a liar and a charlatan

The Foreign Secretary demeans a great office of state with his carelessness and posturing. 

Boris Johnson is a liar, a charlatan and a narcissist. In 1988, when he was a reporter at the Times, he fabricated a quotation from his godfather, an eminent historian, which duly appeared in a news story on the front page. He was sacked. (We might pause here to acknowledge the advantage to a young journalist of having a godfather whose opinions were deemed worthy of appearing in a national newspaper.) Three decades later, his character has not improved.

On 17 September, Mr Johnson wrote a lengthy, hyperbolic article for the Daily Telegraph laying out his “vision” for Brexit – in terms calculated to provoke and undermine the Prime Minister (who was scheduled to give a speech on Brexit in Florence, Italy, as we went to press). Extracts of his “article”, which reads more like a speech, appeared while a terror suspect was on the loose and the country’s threat level was at “critical”, leading the Scottish Conservative leader, Ruth Davidson, to remark: “On the day of a terror attack where Britons were maimed, just hours after the threat level is raised, our only thoughts should be on service.”

Three other facets of this story are noteworthy. First, the article was published alongside other pieces echoing and praising its conclusions, indicating that the Telegraph is now operating as a subsidiary of the Johnson for PM campaign. Second, Theresa May did not respond by immediately sacking her disloyal Foreign Secretary – a measure of how much the botched election campaign has weakened her authority. Finally, it is remarkable that Mr Johnson’s article repeated the most egregious – and most effective – lie of the EU referendum campaign. “Once we have settled our accounts, we will take back control of roughly £350m per week,” the Foreign Secretary claimed. “It would be a fine thing, as many of us have pointed out, if a lot of that money went on the NHS.”

This was the promise of Brexit laid out by the official Vote Leave team: we send £350m to Brussels, and after leaving the EU, that money can be spent on public services. Yet the £350m figure includes the rebate secured by Margaret Thatcher – so just under a third of the sum never leaves the country. Also, any plausible deal will involve paying significant amounts to the EU budget in return for continued participation in science and security agreements. To continue to invoke this figure is shameless. That is not a partisan sentiment: the head of the UK Statistics Authority, Sir David Norgrove, denounced Mr Johnson’s “clear misuse of official statistics”.

In the days that followed, the chief strategist of Vote Leave, Dominic Cummings – who, as Simon Heffer writes in this week's New Statesman, is widely suspected of involvement in Mr Johnson’s article – added his voice. Brexit was a “shambles” so far, he claimed, because of the ineptitude of the civil service and the government’s decision to invoke Article 50 before outlining its own detailed demands.

There is a fine Yiddish word to describe this – chutzpah. Mr Johnson, like all the other senior members of Vote Leave in parliament, voted to trigger Article 50 in March. If he and his allies had concerns about this process, the time to speak up was then.

It has been clear for some time that Mr Johnson has no ideological attachment to Brexit. (During the referendum campaign, he wrote articles arguing both the Leave and Remain case, before deciding which one to publish – in the Telegraph, naturally.) However, every day brings fresh evidence that he and his allies are not interested in the tough, detailed negotiations required for such an epic undertaking. They will brush aside any concerns about our readiness for such a huge challenge by insisting that Brexit would be a success if only they were in charge of it.

This is unlikely. Constant reports emerge of how lightly Mr Johnson treats his current role. At a summit aiming to tackle the grotesque humanitarian crisis in Yemen, he is said to have astounded diplomats by joking: “With friends like these, who needs Yemenis?” The Foreign Secretary demeans a great office of state with his carelessness and posturing. By extension, he demeans our politics. 

This article first appeared in the 21 September 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The revenge of the left