Man told to take citizenship test despite living entire life in UK

Dom Wolf, born in London to German parents, hits bureaucratic wall trying to apply for British passport after Brexit vote

The 32-year-old has written to Theresa May in the hope of resolving the issue.  Photograph: Linda Nylind for the Guardian

The 32-year-old has written to Theresa May in the hope of resolving the issue. Photograph: Linda Nylind for the Guardian

A man born in London to German parents has been told he cannot get a British passport unless he takes a UK citizenship test because he cannot prove his mother was legally in the country when she gave birth.

Dom Wolf, 32, said he felt betrayed by the country in which he was born and has written to Theresa May in the hope she can intervene.

Wolf’s parents came to Britain in 1974 with his mother working for the University of London as a lecturer and his father being self-employed. He has been told by authorities he needs to provide proof they were here legally, even though they were entitled to live and work in Britain under EU law.

In his letter to the prime minister, Wolf explained that his parents gave him a German passport as a reminder of his heritage when he was born and he never considered applying for a British one until the Brexitreferendum because it was never necessary.

“Holding a British birth certificate and having had my parents live, work and raise four boys in the UK for over 42 years, I made the devastating assumption that this would be an easy process. Oh boy was I wrong,” he told her.

In the letter, Wolf said he had been told by the Passport Office his birth certificate was not enough and he had to provide tax or employment records for his mother.

The University of London does not have records from 1982, when Wolf’s mother was working there before his birth, so she made a subject access request for all the historic data from Revenue & Customs offices. HMRC told her it did not have records, resulting in Wolf being told he would be treated like an immigrant seeking naturalisation.

“I’m advised to apply for residency in the UK – is this a bad joke? Residency in a country I was born in!” he wrote in his letter. He said it was absurd that someone in his position should have to sit an English-language proficiency test or be questioned on the history or culture of Britain.

“In accordance with the beloved Passport Office I need to pay £1,121 and undergo a ‘Welcome to your new life in the UK’ test, to prove I can speak English, know who Queen Lizzy is and can sing Candle in the Wind. Madness.

“I feel I am stuck in the middle of … hopeless bureaucracy,” said Wolf, an economics graduate working in the City of London. “I have incurred a student loan of £30k in the UK and I pay a rather large chunk of my wages into the tax pot. I feel offended and let down by the country of my birth and might just move to a nice offshore location and start paying into their tax system instead. Why should I pay money to become a formal ‘resident’ or be forced to go back to a country I have never lived in?” he wrote.

“I hold an EU German passport. An unwanted residue from my parents, to remind me of their heritage. They moved to the UK in 1974 and lived here accordingly for the majority of their lives (over 42 years to date). I was born in Westminster, London, and have never lived in any country other than the UK. I went to school and university in the UK and I speak fairly intolerable German and Spanish (a product of our education system),” he said.

Wolf has not yet received a reply from the prime minister.

He also expressed his frustration that the Passport Office, which he said was “very sympathetic”, could not correspond with HMRC to get supporting documentation. “I’d pay £200 extra just to have the Passport Office pick up the phone and ask HMRC for their records. Every time you ask HMRC something it takes 40 days to get a response and then it’s ‘we don’t have a record’, and then you have to write again,” Wolf told the Guardian.

After an intervention by John Glen, the Conservative MP for Wolf’s constituency of Salisbury and South Wiltshire, the office of the immigration minister, Robert Goodwill, responded to say Wolf should try to get records from his father’s side.

Wolf said he could not get records of his father’s business and was looking at joining the queue of EU citizens applying for citizenship in order to guarantee their rights post-Brexit. “I don’t know what is going on, it just seems impossible to get records from 32 years ago,” he said.

The letter from Goodwill’s office made it plain that the problem was Wolf’s to solve. “Nationality is a matter of law and not something over which HM Passport Office has any discretion,” said the letter, signed by Jen Hawkins of the parliamentary correspondence unit.

Glenn told Wolf the citizenship process “would be wholly inappropriate, expensive and time-consuming for someone in your position: raised, educated and working in the UK.”

The Home Office said that “at no point has Mr Wolf been asked to take a Life in the UK test”. He was advised to contact the visa and immigration office “to discuss citizenship options” should he not be able to find the evidence required by the Passport Office.

Wolf’s case is just one of a number that have come to light in recent weeks showing the struggles EU citizens settled in Britain are having to assert their rights to remain in the country.

Since the referendum, tens of thousands of EU citizens have decided to apply for a document confirming they have permanent residency rights, a prerequisite for citizenship. Many are being failed by the bureaucracy even though they have lived in the country for decades.

In one case, a Dutch woman, who has two British children and has lived in the country for 24 years, was not only rejected but received a letter advising her to make preparations to leave the country.

The rejection was over a technicality as she had provided a solicitor-certified copy of her passport instead of the original, but the Home Office, instead of requesting the original, issued its standard “prepare to leave” letter.

At least a dozen other EU citizens have told the Guardian they have received the same letter, including the German neuroscientist Sam Schwarzkopf and the aerospace executive Lars Graefe.

In another case, a British man fears his Dutch wife of 30 years and the mother of their children is at risk following the Brexit vote because she has not had private health insurance, which EU citizens are required to have if they are not working.

His MP, Sarah Wollaston, an influential Tory backbencher, has called for the little-known requirement for comprehensive sickness insurance to be scrapped as it could jeopardise the rights of stay-at-home parents, other homemakers, students, disabled people and carers.

Man born and raised in UK told he is not a British citizen

Home Office tells Shane Ridge he must leave country because English father never married Australia-born mother

  Shane Ridge with his mother, Sue Ebbs.  Photograph: Mercury Press & Media

 Shane Ridge with his mother, Sue Ebbs. Photograph: Mercury Press & Media

A 21-year-old man who was born and raised in Britain has been told to leave the UK by the Home Office because he is not a British citizen.

Shane Ridge, a joiner from Colne in Lancashire who describes himself as “as British as they come”, received a letter from the Home Office last week informing him that his driving licence would be revoked as he had “no lawful basis to be in the UK”.

It came as a surprise because all of Ridge’s relatives are British citizens. His mother was born in Australia during a family holiday, but has lived in Britain since then and has dual citizenship.

Under UK law, if a child was born before July 2006, the father’s British nationality will usually only automatically pass to the child if he was married to the mother at the time of birth. Because Ridge’s parents never married, he does not have an automatic right to citizenship and is required to apply for “right of abode”.

Ridge said he did not know that his right to citizenship was not automatic, and is confused after being told he would have to leave his family behind or risk jail or a £5,000 fine for living illegally in the UK.

The letter said the Home Office was working with the DVLA, NHS and banks to “stop access to benefits and services for those with no lawful basis to be in the UK”. It added: “This includes you.” Ridge was also told he must stop driving immediately.

“It’s surreal,” he said. “This is the only letter I have ever received in relation to me having to leave the country. It just came through my letterbox out of the blue.

“The last bit scared me the most – ‘leave the UK voluntarily’. I’m speechless – I don’t know what I can say. I received the letter from Immigration Enforcement saying they were going to revoke my driving licence and I should leave the UK voluntarily or face a £5,000 fine.

“I’m confused and worried that I’ll have to leave my entire family behind and move to a country that I don’t know. I don’t understand it because I was born in the UK. I did my GCSEs here, I’ve worked for six years, I pay tax and national insurance. Me and my girlfriend rented a house, I vote, I use the NHS and opened a bank account without any problems, ever.”

Ridge said he did not know he was not a British citizen until he received the letter.

He said he applied for a passport last year to go on holiday and his application was declined, but he then successfully applied for and holds an Australian passport. The Passport Office advised him that he would be able to travel and safely return to the UK after his holiday and since then, he said, he had had no indication of any problems.

“I applied for an Australian passport and was accepted because my mum was born there, despite both her parents being British, and therefore she has dual citizenship,” he said. “I went to apply for right of abode myself after receiving this letter and was told by the Home Office that I need to apply for British citizenship first before I can do that.

“The laws on this have apparently changed in 2006 and they have changed backwards and forwards throughout the years. I just don’t understand how they’ve just got through to me now. I even have a birth certificate with my dad’s signature on it – he’s British.

“If I cannot get dual citizenship or right of abode, or if this isn’t a mistake, I don’t know what I’ll do.” Ridge said he was particularly angry that his life as a law-abiding citizen in the country in which he was born had been thrown into doubt. “It’s terrifying. My parents keep telling me everything will be fine but I’m really scared.

 “My girlfriend, Jodie, isn’t happy. Everyone is in shock and wondering how this can possibly happen. I’ve lived by the book – never had a criminal record.

“I have brothers and sisters. They have dual citizenship because my mum married their dad but my youngest sister, who is five, is also technically in the same position as me as my mum didn’t marry her dad.

“The letter even says they will stop me accessing the NHS or banks. I’ve always been to the doctors with no problems and me and my girlfriend have a joint bank account.” The Home Office has not yet responded to a request for comment.

Citizenship rights granted under Belfast Agreement could return to haunt the EU as birth tourism

A key clause of the Belfast Agreement - of high importance to Irish nationalists and republicans - was the future granting of both Irish and British citizenship to anyone born in Northern Ireland.

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The subsequent enabling legislation in Irish nationality law has several clauses, including that any child born "on the island of Ireland on or after 1 January 2005 ... is entitled to be an Irish citizen if at least one of his parents or his or her parents is ... a British citizen". Other parental criteria for birth-citizenship are of course Irish citizenship and permanent legal residence without time-limit within either the Republic or Northern Ireland.

Little remarked upon after the Belfast Agreement was the fact that Northern Ireland had become a de jure multinational territory with a written Irish-British constitutional treaty text lodged at the UN - in dramatic contrast to Great Britain, with its unwritten constitution and single birth-nationality. Northern Ireland is possibly the only such jurisdiction in the world where all births are now automatically bi-national.

The aforementioned "British-citizen clause" was clearly a quasi-symbolic gesture of national exclusiveness by the Dail directed toward the indigenous Northern Irish of unionist outlook. In 2005, this clause had no impact on the question of possessing an EU passport. But that has changed dramatically with Brexit.

Since last June, incredibly, this massive loophole has not even been remarked upon publicly by politicians or the media in either Ireland or Britain. Month after month, one might have expected that this major issue would be flagged up with the seriousness it merited, especially apropos the post-Brexit future - but nothing at all, after 10 months.

The general oversight no doubt flows from the fact that "British Brexit Birth Tourism to Northern Ireland" - as it might be called - is rooted in Irish law ("Irish Nationality and Citizenship Act," 2004), rather than anywhere in British law. According to the husband of a Belfast midwife known to this writer, it is already happening.

Thus, in theory, any of the approximately 750,000-800,000 babies born annually in the UK could for generations be entitled to an Irish/EU passport if the birth-venue is switched to Northern Ireland. That this is Irish law has been confirmed by Bernard Ryan, Professor of Migration Studies, Leicester University, as well as the Republic's Department of Justice.

In effect, any British citizen in Great Britain (as mother or couple) who now wants an EU passport for their new-born can travel to Northern Ireland for the birth. The result is a huge unintended and overlooked "Remainer" loophole flowing from the complete absence of consideration of Irish impacts during the mainstream referendum campaign in GB.

Such "British Brexit birth tourism" will be of extreme concern to the EU especially. It raises the clear long-term possibility that, even after Brexit, there is a permanent massive route to EU citizenship for new generations of British births, so long as they occur in Northern Ireland - whereas the reverse cat-flap would not operate. And this in addition to the many British citizens already entitled to Irish passports via the traditional and well-known route of blood ancestry (estimated at up to five million).

Nor is this simply a rich family's option before the ban on flying when pregnant. Cheap Northern Irish ferries run from close-by Scotland and Northern England - affordable to any working class couple. And whereas birth-tourism to the Republic - whether from Nigeria or England - could be legally controlled by the Republic in the aftermath of Brexit, the free movement of British citizens across the UK cannot be constrained.

All changes to the Belfast Agreement require, both legally and practically, consent from both the "unionist" and "nationalist" political traditions. It is highly unlikely that nationalists and republicans will concede any diminution of the unusual bi-national nature of the North. They will exert their de facto veto - and "birth tourism" could well become most intractable and insoluble of all the unseasonable Brexit impacts on Ireland.

Implausible? Recall the first ludicrous under-estimates of Eastern immigration to Britain in the aftermath of accession to the European Union by the 10 Baltic, Central European and Mediterranean states in 2004. Where a citizenship right or loophole exists, it will be used - and used hugely. Especially now.

Amazing oversight! Astonishing problem!

Breaking the cycle of expulsion, forced repatriation, and exploitation for Rohingya

Demanding the ‘right of return’ for Rohingya eases the way for countries to forcibly repatriate them back to Myanmar. Again.

Rohingya refugees wait in a line for food aid at the Balukhali refugee camp in Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh on 25 September 2017.  KM Asad/NurPhoto/Sipa USA/PA Images.

Rohingya refugees wait in a line for food aid at the Balukhali refugee camp in Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh on 25 September 2017. KM Asad/NurPhoto/Sipa USA/PA Images.

Even as Rohingya in Bangladesh watch their villages burn across the Naff river, even as trapped and internally displaced Rohingya desperately seek safe passage around the road blocks and landmines to Bangladesh, all talk it seems is focused on returning Rohingya to Myanmar.

As Bangladesh’s prime minister Sheik Hasina opens the door to 400,000 newly-arrived Rohingya victims of “ethnic cleansing” with one hand, she shakes her fist with the other, calling on Myanmar to stop referring to Rohingya as Bengali and accept their return from Bangladesh. In the same breath as calling on the Myanmar authorities to suspend military action against Rohingya, UN Secretary-General, Antonio Guterres, speaks of “the right of return” for those who have left the country.

Meanwhile, the government of India is securing the borders and fighting it out in the Supreme Court, seeking permission to deport Rohingya who have fled previous waves of persecution. Thailand is preparing to resume the Navy “push-backs” of Rohingya escaping by sea, and Australia continues to offer Rohingya payments to return to Myanmar – as though the horrors of the last three weeks in Myanmar are just another temporary blip.

Rakhine was our homeland. We have only memories now.

For their part, as Rohingya activists desperately await news of their family and friends’ safe arrival in Bangladesh, they also proclaim that their hearts will never leave their ancestral lands in Rakhine state and that they will never lose hope of return. Their bodies, however, are another matter. Approximately 50% of all Rohingya villages now stand empty. Half the population has been displaced in the space of three weeks and unknown thousands – who will remain uncounted – have been killed.

For many Rohingya in diaspora, the latest exodus has displaced the very last of their family members from their homeland – now only dead bodies, ashes and memories are left. As a Rohingya friend living in London told me, “our home town was destroyed. We wept through each night waiting to receive news from our family. Yesterday we heard my brother and sister had finally reached Bangladesh. We are relieved, but they were the last of our relatives in Rakhine. Rakhine was our homeland. We have only memories now”.

The right to (forced) repatriation

There is a fine line to walk between securing the “right of return” for Rohingya and enabling refoulement or forced repatriation. Talk of the “right of return” correctly reasserts Rohingya’s rightful claim to belong to Myanmar. That citizenship is rightly theirs – even if they have no papers to prove it.1 But there is a distinct danger that the focus on return – before fleeing Rohingya families have even found shelter from the rain – could open the door for forced repatriation of Rohingya to Myanmar.

Again.

And, in waiting for return, the failure to secure durable solutions for Rohingya outside Myanmar could lead to high risk journeys and exploitation, as they seek refuge in a third or fourth countries.

Again.

Rohingyas know all about forced repatriation. It’s a staple of their collective memories and oral histories. Each time Rohingya have fled, Myanmar has been outmanoeuvred and has been forced to accept Rohingya back into the country. In 1978, 270,000 Rohingya were driven from Myanmar into Bangladesh during Operation Nagamin – which targeted all Rohingya under the guise of an immigration sweep. Within sixteen months the vast majority had been returned to Myanmar, under duress with no change in conditions in Myanmar. Food rations were withheld in Bangladesh to ensure return. An estimated 12,000 Rohingya perished. Shortly afterwards and partially in response to the repatriations, the 1982 Citizenship Law was brought in leaving the vast majority of Rohingya unrecognised as citizens.

In 1991-2, 250,000 Rohingya fleeing human rights abuses in Myanmar arrived in Bangladesh.

Again.

Between 1992 and 1994, most of these refugees were returned to Myanmar.

Again.

Protests against repatriation broke out in the camps in Bangladesh. Excessive force was used to return them. UNHCR oversaw the repatriations and attempted to secure documentation for Rohingya. Promises did not materialise. There were no changes in the conditions on the ground in Rakhine State. Abuses in Myanmar continued unabated.

Again.

And this time around?

The de-facto leader of the Myanmar government, Suu Kyi, in her attempts to placate the growing international condemnation, has claimed that Myanmar stands ready to take back those “verified as refugees from this country (Myanmar)”. An announcement of a bilateral agreement between Bangladesh and Myanmar on repatriations is expected in the next few days. But they will not verify the vast majority of Rohingya as their own. Rohingyas in Bangladesh are defiantly waving their ration cards printed with: “Country: Myanmar, Nationality: Rohingya”, but Myanmar persistently denies their roots and their collective identity.

The Rohingya refugee camp in Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh on 19 September 2017.  Can Erok/Depo Photos/ABACA/ABACA/PA Images

The Rohingya refugee camp in Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh on 19 September 2017. Can Erok/Depo Photos/ABACA/ABACA/PA Images

Stateless by design

Rohingya citizenship in its substantive sense was not singlehandedly revoked by the 1982 Citizenship Act, as is often claimed.2 A 40-year process, beginning under military rule and continuing until today, has slowly and torturously severed Rohingyas’ relationship with their homeland and the state. This has laid the groundwork for the persecution of Rohingya through law and policy as well as collective violence. The Myanmar military are not about to welcome them back. Much less in safety and dignity.

The production of Rohingya statelessness by the Myanmar military and government is best understood not as the result of historical disputes, but as a deliberate attempt to purify or cleanse the nation of racial and religious ‘others’ through bureaucratic means.3 Citizenship law in Myanmar – with its 135 fixed, immutable and externally-ascribed categories of ‘national races’ or Tai Yin Tha4– serves an additional, less ‘bureaucratic’ purpose.

It is the single most powerful and immovable discourse there is regarding race and exclusion in Myanmar. It cements revisionist historical narratives that exclude Rohingya and legitimises primordial notions of race that feed hatred. As Hinton explains in his 2002 book Genocide and Anthropology, genocidal regimes “manufacture difference by constructing essentialized categories of identity and belonging … linked to emotionally resonant notions of purity and contamination”. Killing is then motivated out of resultant “ideologies of hate”5 a la the Nuremburg laws in Nazi Germany.

Rohingya statelessness is not a documentation issue: it’s a tool of genocide that aims to destroy the Rohingya as a group.

International efforts to address Rohingya statelessness over past decades have attempted to provide pathways to “paper citizenship” for Rohingya in the hope that human rights will somehow follow. It’s a vain hope echoed in the final report of the Myanmar government’s Advisory Commission on Rakhine State, headed by Kofi Annan.

Yet Rohingya statelessness is not a documentation issue. It’s a tool of genocide that aims to destroy the Rohingya as a group, not only by removing their rights, but also by destroying their identity from the inside out. It is the statelessness that Hannah Arendt and Raphael Lemkin6 wrote about in the 1940s – the kind that foreshadowed and preceded the holocaust, not the kind for which UNHCR usually offers technical assistance to states to resolve. Indeed, as Rohingyas know only too well, the government’s documentation processes cost them the right to self-identify as Rohingya. For this reason, most Rohingya do not seek documentation, or paper citizenship, at any cost. They know the state has been destroying their identity and their collective “belonging” to Myanmar over decades.

Rohingya that cannot be removed from Myanmar by bureaucratic means or through the production of their statelessness, are removed through military operations and pogroms that have taken place over decades and have recently escalated. What we are witnessing now is the Myanmar military attempting to prevent a repeat of the past cycles of repatriation – an attempt to remove them from the territory and sever their links to home. Forever. Shooting Rohingyas in the back as they flee, placing landmines in their flight paths across the border, targeting babies and children, burning Rohingya village after Rohingya village. By law, land, once burnt, reverts to ownership of the state. These tactics are all designed to prevent return and complete the “unfinished business”.

A bleak future

Survival for Rohingya in their homeland, for the time being, has become untenable. This is devastating not only for the most recent Rohingya victims, but also for the many Rohingya living in diaspora. It is absolutely right that Myanmar is internationally condemned for its genocidal project. But to break the decades-long cycle of displacement, repatriation, and exploitation of Rohingya, it is to also necessary to ensure Rohingya are able to live in safety and dignity outside the country. Not contained in camps for decades, not dependent on aid or kept in limbo with irregular status, not denied access to integration and resettlement programmes. Instead, provided with opportunities for work and education, opportunities for movement and family reunification across borders, opportunities for meaningful contribution to the localities they’ve ended up in.

Again.

Each Rohingya exodus from Myanmar in recent years has been accompanied by a spike in the numbers of Rohingya leaving Bangladesh, seeking safety and security elsewhere. As we witnessed in 2012, as Rohingya become increasingly desperate the levels of extortion and exploitation they face on their journeys rise as well. Those unable to pay the full cost of their passage frequently become trapped by debt bondage into horrific labour conditions, such as in the factories and rubbish dumps in India. They are imprisoned in jungle camps, where they are beaten and tortured to extort money from their relatives in Malaysia and Thailand. Some die on route or are killed in the camps when they become a financial liability to the smugglers.

As long as Rohingya have no options for safe migration and decent work to support their families, the prosecutions of traffickers, even the high-profile cases recently in Thailand, will not bring about the end of these forms of exploitation. There are around one and a half million Rohingya living outside Myanmar. Of these, many are in situations of protracted displacement in Bangladesh, Malaysia, Thailand, India and beyond.

Some have been there for decades. Some have tried two or three countries and have been repeatedly displaced. Some have been stuck in indefinite detention for years. In these conditions they continue to struggle for their survival. Unable to regularise their status, they eke out a living in dangerous and insecure jobs in the informal economy, without security or protection from arrest, dependent on the good will of local populations, and sometimes the subject of politically-instigated hate-campaigns.

Many Rohingya in the diaspora are traumatised by the atrocities they have already borne or witnessed, and their daily lives are little more than hand-to-mouth survival. Already they are at breaking point, and now they are anxiously wondering how to move relatives beyond the desperate and untenable humanitarian crisis in Bangladesh. Their desperation and urgency has a direct effect on their bargaining power. With their resources so low, and with so many risks involved, they are knowingly and unknowingly entering into relationships of exploitation and extortion with the brokers.

Again.

Bangladesh cannot absorb 800,000 Rohingya into its ailing local economy on the borderlands near Myanmar, or support them indefinitely. The responsibility needs to be one that is shared internationally – with the acknowledgement that home might not be a safe option for a long time to come. A joined-up effort to secure durable solutions for Rohingya outside Myanmar (the new-comers and the old) – from both concerned Western and Organisation of Islamic Cooperation (OIC) countries is vital. Efforts to provide Rohingya with safe passage to countries in which they can build their lives should accompany the pledges of aid. This will avert the secondary humanitarian crisis as Rohingya once again take to the seas and smuggling routes on which so many lives have already been lost.

One of the conditions for returning Rohingya to Myanmar will likely be access to (future) nationality or citizenship. Sometimes documentation has been conflated with citizenship. The international community has fallen, time and time again, for Myanmar’s false promises relating to documenting Rohingya with a view towards citizenship. Long ago the documentation processes themselves became sites of persecution for Rohingya. When Rohingya statelessness is understood within the context of wider genocidal processes7, it is clear that Rohingya don’t just need documents to return to Myanmar, they need their group identity to be recognised there as well. And for toxic, primordial notions of race to be dismantled from the top down. History is on repeat and the cycle of persecution, displacement, forced repatriation and exploitation needs to be broken before the Myanmar military ends the cycle their way.

  1. See Para’s 19 & 20 of UN Human Rights Committee (HRC), CCPR General Comment No. 27: Article 12 (Freedom of Movement), 2 November 1999, CCPR/C/21/Rev.1/Add.9. ↩︎
  2. See Nyi Nyi Kyaw (2017) ‘Unpacking the presumed statelessness of Rohingyas’,

    Journal of Immigrant & Refugee Studies, 15(3), 269-286. 

  3. Robert M. Hayden describes how nationality laws in the former-Yugoslavia, that were based on primordial notions of race, were used as “bureaucratic ethnic cleansing” and were a precursor for mass expulsions and mass killings. See Hayden (2002), ‘Imagined communities and real victims: self-determination and ethnic cleansing in Yugoslavia’, American Ethnologist, 23(4), 783-801. ↩︎
  4. See Nick Cheesman (2017) ‘How in Myanmar “national races” came to surpass citizenship and exclude Rohingya’, Journal of Contemporary Asia, 47(3), 461-483. ↩︎
  5. Alexander Laban Hinton, Alexander Laban(, 2002, ), ‘Genocide: An Anthropological Reader’, p10. ↩︎
  6. Raphael Lemkin, who coined the term “Genocide” and tirelessly campaigned for the inclusion of genocide in international criminal law, used the term “denationalisation” to describe the production of statelessness as part of the genocidal process. Lemkin understood genocide to involve “destruction of the national pattern” or social engineering by the oppressors to destroy a group both culturally and physically. ↩︎
  7. For a historic account of these processes, see Zarni and Cowley (2014), ‘The slow-burning genocide of Myanmar’s Rohingya’, Pacific Rim Law & Policy Journal, 23(3). ↩︎