Opinion

Newton Emerson: Threat of embarrassment one way round inflexibility on nationality

Newton Emerson

Newton Emerson

Newton Emerson writes a twice-weekly column for The Irish News and is a regular commentator on current affairs on radio and television.

Jake DeSouza and wife Emma. Picture by Hugh Russell.
Jake DeSouza and wife Emma. Picture by Hugh Russell. Jake DeSouza and wife Emma. Picture by Hugh Russell.

Emma DeSouza, from Magherafelt, is refusing to sign a Home Office form renouncing her British citizenship. As a result, her American husband has been trapped in Northern Ireland for two years.

“I only hold an Irish passport and I’ve only ever identified as Irish,” Ms DeSouza told The Irish News.

“At no point have I been a dual national. I was raised to believe I could be Irish-only in Northern Ireland.”

I entirely sympathise with Ms DeSouza - not just because I would resent signing anything implying I was Irish but because I have had a similar experience.

A decade ago, shortly before my wedding, I received a phone call from the registry office informing me our paperwork was not in order because my wife had described herself as Irish but had submitted a British passport as proof of nationality.

I replied that the Good Friday Agreement entitles everyone to be British, Irish or both but this was not an acceptable answer. Computer Said No, the rules were immutable and we would have to ‘correct’ our application.

Yet just minutes after calling my wife with the bad news, the registry office phoned back with an abject apology. Apparently the rules were mutable after all and we could proceed to the altar.

I have always suspected someone belatedly recognised my name and wrongly believed I could put them on the front page of the Irish News. Is that all it takes for the computer to suddenly say yes?

My case did not involve an immigration issue so might seem to be at a lesser bureaucratic level than Ms DeSouza’s. However, the rules on marriage, nationality and immigration are closely related and seriously policed - people are routinely arrested at registry offices on suspicion of immigration offences. Furthermore, while Ms DeSouza is only asking for consistent recognition of her identity, my wife was demanding inconsistency (a theme of our marriage in general.)

The complexity of nationality and immigration rules exacerbates any sense of injustice from an unwanted outcome. As everyone who has dealt with the immigration system can attest, it is so Byzantine that all decisions seem essentially arbitrary. Getting the answer you want can feel like poking officialdom with a stick, until you hit upon someone with the authority, initiative and inclination to apply the rubber stamp.

Would my wife have stood her ground with the council if it had jeopardised our wedding? She will only say: “I am confident I could have made them change their minds” (one more theme of our marriage in general.)

Other people in Ms DeSouza’s position have signed the form. Writing on Twitter, a solicitor reported handling such cases regularly and said they would make a great subject for a judicial review.

Most of these people do not appear to have regarded renouncing British citizenship as acceding, even momentarily, to British citizenship.

Everyone born in Northern Ireland to British or Irish parents is both a British and an Irish citizen by right.

The exact wording of the Good Friday Agreement states that the British and Irish governments “recognise the birthright of all the people of Northern Ireland to identify themselves and be accepted as Irish or British, or both, as they may so choose.”

A judicial review would almost certainly find that we must all be ‘dual nationals’ by default to be consistent with the Agreement - a form of Shrodinger’s identity, to borrow a physics metaphor, where everyone is simultaneously British and Irish until they force the issue by opening, or in this case ticking, a box.

The best solution to Ms DeSouza’s dilemma might simply be rewording the form, so that instead of renouncing British citizenship it merely renounces the entitlement to claim it.

The form in question has not been designed with Northern Ireland in mind. Differences between UK and EU immigration law mean it has become easier in recent years for a non-EU spouse to move to Northern Ireland if their partner holds only Irish citizenship. Renouncing British citizenship is a loophole granting access to these easier rules. Arguably, this creates a worse plight for unionists than nationalists. What if someone who does identify as British feels compelled to renounce their citizenship for their marriage?

Given my experience, I cannot help feeling the ultimate problem remains an official culture that cannot show the slightest flexibility, until it fears some public embarrassment or legal challenge, whereupon it magically can.

What a pity for Ms DeSouza it will have to come to that.

newton@irishnews.com