UK border control. Photo: Wikimedia
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Scale of English language test fraud by migrants revealed

Today the government revealed the scale of fraud in English language certificates for migrants seeking student visas. The issue is likely to stoke further tensions over immigration.

More than 45,000 immigrants may have fraudulently obtained English language certificates despite being unable to speak the language, it emerged today.

The government admitted that evidence of criminal activity had been discovered during a probe into the student visa system. Almost 30,000 language certificates were found to be invalid, while a further 19,000 were deemed “questionable”.

Conservative immigration minister James Brokenshire announced in an urgent statement to the Commons today that the true sum could be even higher. 

David Hanson, Labour’s shadow Home Office minister, said the “systematic abuse on this government’s watch” was “astounding”.

Brokenshire said: "The government is not prepared to tolerate this abuse. Since the start of February immigration enforcement officers, with the support of the National Crime Agency, together with officials from UK Visas and Immigration, have been conducting a detailed and wide-ranging investigation into actions by organised criminals to falsify English language tests for student visa applicants.

"They've also investigated a number of colleges and universities for their failure to ensure that their students meet the criteria set out in immigration rules."

Each year, around 100,000 non-EU students get their visas to stay in the UK extended. 

The Coalition introduced English language tests for non-EU citizens who want to settle in Britain. The system has been undermined, however, by fraudsters selling fake English language certificates for £500.

The Home Office suspended the language tests used to award student visas run by examination firm ETS in February and launched an investigation into criminal activity.

The ability of migrants to the UK to speak the English language has become a hotly contested issue under the current government, as tensions around the scale of immigration to the UK have grown. Last month, the Conservative Culture Secretary Sajid Javid, who is the UK’s most senior Asian politician, waded into the debate by saying that migrants to Britain should be able to speak English.

He said: “I think it's perfectly reasonable for British people to say, ‘Look, if you're going to settle in Britain and make it your home you should learn the language of the country and you should respect its laws and its culture’.”

His remarks follow a controversial statement from Ukip leader Nigel Farage earlier this year, in which he said he had felt “awkward” and “uncomfortable” on a commuter train from London to Kent in which he could hear no passengers speaking English for several stops.

Lucy Fisher writes about politics and is the winner of the Anthony Howard Award 2013. She tweets @LOS_Fisher.

 

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What Donald Trump could learn from Ronald Reagan

Reagan’s candidacy was built on more than his celebrity. Trump not only lacks experience as an elected official, he isn’t part of any organised political movement.

“No one remembers who came in second.” That wisdom, frequently dispensed by the US presidential candidate Donald Trump, came back to haunt him this week. Trump’s loss in the Iowa Republican caucuses to the Texas senator Ted Cruz, barely beating Senator Marco Rubio of Florida for second place, was the first crack in a campaign that has defied all expectations.

It has been a campaign built on Trump’s celebrity. Over the past eight months, his broad name recognition, larger-than-life personality and media savvy have produced a theatrical candidacy that has transfixed even those he repels. The question now is whether that celebrity will be enough – whether a man so obsessed with being “Number One” can bounce back from defeat.

Iowa isn’t everything, after all. It didn’t back the eventual Republican nominee in 2008 or 2012. Nor, for that matter, in 1980, when another “celebrity” candidate was in the mix. That was the year Iowa picked George H W Bush over Ronald Reagan – the former actor whom seasoned journalists dismissed as much for his right-wing views as for his “B-movie” repertoire. But Reagan regrouped, romped to victory in the New Hampshire primary and rode a wave of popular support all the way to the White House.

Trump might hope to replicate that success and has made a point of pushing the Reagan analogy more generally. Yet it is a comparison that exposes Trump’s weaknesses and his strengths.

Both men were once Democrats who came later in life to the Republican Party, projecting toughness, certainty and unabashed patriotism. Trump has even adopted Reagan’s 1980 campaign promise to “make America great again”. Like Reagan, he has shown he can appeal to evangelicals despite question marks over his religious conviction and divorces. In his ability to deflect criticism, too, Trump has shown himself as adept as Reagan – if by defiance rather than by charm – and redefined what it means to be “Teflon” in the age of Twitter.

That defiance, however, points to a huge difference in tone between Reagan’s candidacy and Trump’s. Reagan’s vision was a positive, optimistic one, even as he castigated “big government” and the perceived decline of US power. Reagan’s America was meant to be “a city upon a hill” offering a shining example of liberty to the world – in rhetoric at least. Trump’s vision is of an America closed off from the world. His rhetoric invokes fear as often as it does freedom.

On a personal level, Reagan avoided the vituperative attacks that have been the hallmark of Trump’s campaign, even as he took on the then“establishment” of the Republican Party – a moderate, urban, east coast elite. In his first run for the nomination, in 1976, Reagan even challenged an incumbent Republican president, Gerald Ford, and came close to defeating him. But he mounted the challenge on policy grounds, advocating the so-called “Eleventh Commandment”: “Thou shalt not speak ill of any fellow Republican.” Trump, as the TV debates between the Republican presidential candidates made clear, does not subscribe to the same precept.

More importantly, Reagan in 1976 and 1980 was the leader of a resurgent conservative movement, with deep wells of political experience. He had been president of the Screen Actors Guild in the late 1940s, waging a campaign to root out communist infiltrators. He had gone on to work for General Electric in the 1950s as a TV pitchman and after-dinner speaker, honing a business message that resonated beyond the “rubber chicken circuit”.

In 1964 he grabbed headlines with a televised speech on behalf of the Republican presidential candidate, Barry Goldwater – a bright spot in Goldwater’s otherwise ignominious campaign. Two years later he was elected governor of California – serving for eight years as chief executive of the nation’s most populous state. He built a conservative record on welfare reform, law and order, and business regulation that he pushed on to the federal agenda when he ran for president.

All this is to say that Reagan’s candidacy was built on more than his celebrity. By contrast, Trump not only lacks experience as an elected official, he isn’t part of any organised political movement – which enhanced his “outsider” status, perhaps, but not his ground game. So far, he has run on opportunism, tapping in to popular frustration, channelled through a media megaphone.

In Iowa, this wasn’t enough. To win the nomination he will have to do much more to build his organisation. He will be hoping that in the primaries to come, voters do remember who came in second. 

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war