Asylum is not illegal migration – why the UK government shouldn’t conflate the two
Nando Sigona, University of Birmingham
The UK government’s latest proposals on asylum rest on an incorrect premise. In announcing them, home secretary Shabana Mahmood argued that “illegal migration is tearing our country apart”. But asylum-seeking is not illegal migration.
Asylum is a form of protection granted by a country to a non-citizen who faces persecution in their home country. The right to seek asylum is enshrined in international law, and applies irrespective of how the person travelled to the place where they are seeking protection.
Yet the policies being rolled out collapse two distinct categories into a single threat, to be addressed through deterrence and control. In effect, the category of the asylum seeker is equated to that of “illegal migrant”. Both are discussed as “abusing the system”, “flouting the rules” and “undermining communities”.
The underlying implication is that all asylum seekers are “illegal migrants”. Any system that follows will therefore be built on a distortion. Its consequences will fall not on the minority who try to game the system, but on the overwhelming majority who have legitimate claims for protection.
In 2024, 84,200 applications for asylum were made in the UK, relating to 108,100 individuals. More than 36,500 asylum appeals were lodged against negative decisions, with 48% of them allowed. Recent data show that in the months to March 2025, 47% of initial decisions resulted in the applicant being granted refugee status.
The new asylum measures promise faster decisions on asylum applications, tougher thresholds to be granted status, and expanded detention and removals. In continuity with the previous Conservative government, the rhetoric of “restoring control” makes the direction clear: restrict access to protection, harden the conditions for claiming it, and speed up refusals.
Labour is not hiding its reasoning for this approach. The government explicitly argues that firmer control is needed to prevent “darker forces” from coming into power. This is presented not as a concession to the far right, but as a public rationale for tightening the system. The message is clear: these policies are needed to keep politics steady, not because they improve the asylum system.
The issue is not simply that the proposals are harsh, unethical or likely to be ineffective. They represent a deeper shift: redefining protection as a discretionary favour rather than a legal obligation. Control becomes the primary focus, leaving less space for discussing refugee rights, protection and international obligations.
If asylum is framed as illegality, and settlement is reshaped into a privilege that must be endlessly earned, then our understanding of equal membership – the idea that those lawfully in the UK should enjoy stability and a clear path to full inclusion – is fundamentally altered.
A lifetime review
One of the key proposals is to extend the length of time it takes for a refugee to achieve settlement from five to 20 years. Until recently, settlement – the immigration status that allows a non-UK citizen to live, work and study in the UK without time restrictions – was the expected outcome for anyone granted refugee status. It is also a prerequisite for applying for British citizenship.
The new proposals transform settlement into something that must be continually earned. The path has become longer, more conditional and far more easily disrupted.
This aligns closely with other recent announcements on policies relating to migrants more generally. Higher salary thresholds, more enforcement, extended probationary periods and more complex routes to settlement have all been tabled.
These changes would build a structural disadvantage into the migration system. Non-citizens can live, work and contribute, but their belonging remains conditional. They become long-term residents on a form of probation, their status always open to review. This is more than an administrative change. It creates a hierarchy of membership that shapes lives, futures and families.
For a refugee family, this can mean years of uncertainty: parents unable to plan long-term careers or mortgages; partners and children living with the fear that a change in income, a missed renewal deadline or a shift in political priorities could jeopardise their right to remain.
It can also mean delays or barriers to family reunification, with spouses or children abroad left in limbo while the principal applicant waits to demonstrate continuous compliance. In practice, what should be a path to stability becomes a prolonged period of vulnerability, in which everyday life is overshadowed by the possibility of losing one’s status.
Nando Sigona, Professor of International Migration and Forced Displacement and Director of the Institute for Research into International Migration and Superdiversity, University of Birmingham
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
