The unsettling state of settled status

That changed 14 years into her life in Europe. Suddenly, she developed this need to know that, whatever happened next, she would be safe in her new home.

Twenty-three years have passed since then, and it now looks like her paranoia was unwarranted. France is yet to elect a government that would seek to deport people like her, or remove some of their rights. Will it still seem drastic in five, ten years? I’m not sure anyone would be willing to take that bet right now.

I also struggle to know what I ought to be doing next. I moved to Britain 16 years ago because I could, and without having to fill in a single piece of paper. In 2019, a decade into my life in London, I applied for settled status and was granted it within minutes. 

There was no question of me ever applying for a British passport, even though I became entitled to one some time ago. I am many things – French, Moroccan, a Londoner – but I’m not British.

It’s quite a luxurious position to be in; I know I’m lucky to be able to think of nationality in terms of identity instead of rights. Not everyone is afforded that space.

Will I be able to think about it in those terms for much longer? I first asked myself that question last month, following Reform’s annual conference from afar. One evening, a press release landed in my inbox, and informed me of what the party would do to immigrants if they got into government.

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One announcement caught my attention: in a country run by Reform, they said, settled status for EU citizens would be replaced with a visa they – we – would have to re-apply for every five years. I slept quite poorly that night. There may not be an election on the horizon, but this was the first time a mainstream party threatened to change my legal status, for seemingly no reason other than spite.

The next morning, bleary-eyed, I discovered with relief that they had backtracked already. Because settled status was such an important part of the withdrawal agreement, there just isn’t much that even Farage could do without drawing the ire of the EU. I went to bed that evening feeling more comfortable in my bed, and in Britain.

It didn’t last. Earlier this week, at the Conservatives’ conference, former special adviser and current rising star Katie Lam hit out against that very same post-Brexit agreement. “My view is that all state support should only be for citizens”, she said, arguing that EU citizens with settled status should not be allowed to claim any form of welfare benefits.

It apparently doesn’t matter that we work like everyone else and pay our taxes like everyone else. If something were to happen to us, the British state shouldn’t lend us a helping hand. 

Of course, hers hardly felt like an imminent threat. The Conservative Party couldn’t possibly be any further from power.

Still, you can hear it too, can’t you? You can hear the mood music changing, ever so slightly, becoming that much more ominous. It hasn’t even been ten years since we, people who moved to the UK legally and freely before Brexit, had our lives changed without being given a say in it, and already we’re being made to feel less and less welcome here.

My mother felt the wind change 20 years ago in France and I now get what she saw, and why she decided to do something she’d never felt the need to entertain before. I’m not quite at that stage yet, but I feel more vigilant today than I did even a few months ago. I never thought it would happen to me, or to Britain, but that’s always the story, isn’t it? 

It creeps up on you and you try to dismiss it until you can’t. You tell yourself you’re welcome here until the glares become unavoidable, and you start considering your options.

I know I want to stay here whatever happens, and I will fight for it if I need to. I just wish I didn’t have to even think about it, but that may be a luxury I soon won’t be able to afford anymore.