Calls to deport Rochdale grooming gang ringleader Shabir Ahmed may be politically understandable, but rewriting Section 7 of the Immigration Act to achieve that outcome could permanently weaken long-standing legal protections for Commonwealth citizens, warns Dr Raj Joshi

The Home Secretary Shabana Mahmood’s announcement that she will change the law to allow deportation for crimes of “exceptional severity” was designed to sound decisive and reassure a furious public.

But constitutional law is not a pressure valve. It is a structure, and structures do not bend simply because a minister wishes them to.

The case at the centre of this political theatre is Shabir Ahmed – the ringleader of the Rochdale grooming gang, convicted of 30 counts of child rape and sexual abuse. His British citizenship was revoked in 2016, yet he cannot be deported.

The barrier is a statutory protection Parliament wrote more than 50 years ago, alongside Pakistan’s unequivocal statement that he is not a Pakistani national and, therefore, the nation will not accept him.

The onus for dealing with Ahmed lies exclusively with the United Kingdom. As Pakistan has so acerbically pointed out, from arriving in the UK aged 14, he grew up, was raised, groomed and, unfortunately, spoiled in the UK. Pakistan has no connection whatsoever with the case – not culturally, not legally, not historically. This is, then, not Pakistan’s problem but ours.

The legal barrier lies in Section 7 of the Immigration Act 1971 – Persons having the right of abode or exempt from immigration control – which protects certain long-settled Commonwealth citizens from deportation:

“A Commonwealth citizen who was ordinarily resident in the United Kingdom at the commencement of this Act and has been so resident for the last five years shall not be liable to deportation under section 3(5) or 3(6) of this Act.”

Section 7 of the Immigration Act 1971 is a constitutional promise to long-settled Commonwealth residents that they would not be liable to deportation under the general powers of the Act. It was Parliament’s way of acknowledging the post-imperial reality that people who built their lives here should not be treated as removable guests.

Mahmood proposes to disapply that protection for offenders whose crimes meet her threshold of “exceptional severity”. Disapplying a constitutional safeguard, however, sets a precedent, and precedents do not stay small.

The judiciary has spent a decade constructing a principled framework around deportation, long-term residence and citizenship deprivation. Mahmood’s proposal collides with that framework at every turn.

Kiarie & Byndloss [2017] UKSC 42 states that, “The public interest in a foreign criminal’s removal… is outweighed unless it can be said that, if brought from abroad, the appeal would remain effective.” The Supreme Court makes clear that deportation cannot hollow out the right to an effective appeal. Public interest does not override the fairness of the process, even for serious offenders.

In Hesham Ali [2016] UKSC 60, the court held: “Ultimately, it has to decide whether deportation is proportionate… balancing the strength of the public interest… against the impact on private and family life.” 

This constitutional test applies to everyone, including those who commit monstrous offences. The court also said, “In general, only a claim which is very strong indeed – very compelling… will succeed.” It acknowledges the weight of public interest while maintaining a high threshold for resisting deportation. Mahmood’s framing suggests a new category beyond judicial scrutiny, contrary to that approach.

Pham [2015] UKSC 19 states, “Statelessness must be interpreted in a practical and realistic manner.” 

Statelessness therefore depends on whether any state will accept the person, rather than on paperwork alone. Pakistan has already refused, leaving Mahmood’s proposal at risk of creating a ‘non-deportable ghost’.

In Secretary of State for the Home Department v Al-Jedda [2013] UKSC 62, the Supreme Court stated, “The Secretary of State for the Home Department cannot make an order which deprives a person of his British citizenship on the ground that it is conducive to the public good if she is satisfied that the order would make him stateless.”

Even suspected terrorists cannot be stripped of citizenship if no state will take them. This is an absolute prohibition that no ministerial declaration can override.

Hosenball [1977] 1 WLR 766, 770D (CA), per Lord Denning MR, states, “The courts will see that the powers of the executive are exercised in accordance with law.”

Even in national-security cases, the courts insisted on legality and constitutional constraint. Section 7 forms part of that framework, making its disapplication constitutional surgery rather than administrative housekeeping.

The public fury around Ahmed’s release is being channelled into deportation policy, obscuring the simpler reason for his early release: our prisons are full.

This is the part ministers whisper rather than speak. The part that never makes the headlines yet the part that reveals the real dysfunction.

We release dangerous offenders early because we have run out of space. We have run out of space because we have run out of political courage. Ministry of Justice figures show that 38,042 prisoners were freed under a government early release scheme between September 2024 and June 2025.

“In short, if we fail to act now, we face the collapse of the criminal justice system. And a total breakdown of law and order,” said Shabana Mahmood, then Secretary of State for Justice.

That raises a further question of political courage: it may be less dangerous to put criminals into army barracks than refugees and asylum seekers. We have barracks for people fleeing war, but not for men who commit sick and abhorrent acts.

Section 7 is one of the last statutory recognitions of Britain’s historic obligations to Commonwealth migrants. Disapplying it – even for monstrous offenders – creates a precedent which future governments will expand. Mahmood’s proposal hands the Home Secretary a new discretionary power to override statutory protections, shifting the balance from Parliament to executive discretion.

If Pakistan refuses to accept Ahmed, the UK will be left with a man stripped of citizenship and Section 7 protection, but still present and legally impossible to remove. This is known as the Pham problem: statelessness in practice.

Deportation requires the consent of the receiving state. A person cannot be removed to a country that refuses to accept them. This is part of the basic architecture of international law.

Mahmood insists Windrush-generation protections remain intact. Yet the empire’s reach extended to other parts of the world, most notably South Asia and the whole Indian diaspora. Disapplying Section 7 for ‘serious criminals’ introduces a two-tier system based on historic migration status rather than offence severity.

Census-based analysis gives a reliable picture of the historic cohort protected by Section 7. The Migration Observatory, using ONS Census 2011 data, found that 599,078 people living in England and Wales were born in Commonwealth countries and arrived before 1971. Of these, 541,616 (around 90 per cent) held a UK passport – meaning they are current UK citizens. Parliamentary evidence aligns with this, noting that “nearly 600,000” Commonwealth citizens came to the UK between 1948 and 1973. Section 7 sits over a large, long-settled, constitutionally recognised cohort whose right not to be deported was written deliberately into statute.

The central question is whether the chosen method preserves the integrity of the legal system, irrespective of whether Ahmed deserves removal. 

On that test, Mahmood’s proposal fails. It expands executive power, weakens historic protections, risks discriminatory impact and may be impossible to operationalise.

The law must be better than the worst of us. That is the point of Section 7, and that is why its erosion – even in the name of justice – demands scrutiny rather than applause.

Dr Raj Joshi is a senior barrister and prominent civil rights advocate whose career spans frontline legal practice, regulatory reform, and international justice. Twice named among the ‘Top 10 Asian Lawyers in the UK’ and listed in the ‘100 Most Influential Asians in the UK’, he has appeared before major inquiries, including giving evidence in the Stephen Lawrence case, and served as Chair of the Society of Black Lawyers. A former Adjudicator to the Solicitors Regulation Authority, Dr Joshi has advised ministers, helped shape legal protocols, and represented the UK in international legal forums. 

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