“When political rhetoric turns a human being into an abstraction or a scapegoat, the way is opened to stripping away their rights.”

In the UK today, immigrants, asylum seekers, and people from minority ethnic backgrounds often find themselves in a position eerily similar to what the legal profession is encountering: vilification, public hostility, and ultimately, the erosion of rights—not because they have done something wrong, but because they are part of a group that is politically or socially convenient to target.

The Climate of Hostility

Over the past decade, political discourse around immigration in the UK has frequently veered into dehumanising or fear-driven framing:

• Immigration is often described in terms of floods, tides, pressures, or invasions — metaphors that evoke crisis and threat.
• Headlines repeatedly spotlight “illegal migration,” “border chaos,” or “removal failures” — focusing on systemic breakdowns, not individual human lives.
• Some politicians explicitly blame immigrants for economic stagnation, strain on public services, or crime — even when evidence is weak or contrary.

This rhetoric is not just about persuasion — it shapes public sentiment, media narratives, and, ultimately, policy decisions. Over time, the constant barrage can condition people to see immigrants as “others,” undeserving of sympathy, fully “other,” or a drain on “our” resources.

Legal Precarity & The Irony of Law

One of the cruellest ironies in this situation is how many immigrants — especially undocumented migrants, asylum seekers, or those with insecure status — are heavily reliant on the legal system precisely because their rights and status are under threat. Yet the same system is weaponised against them.

• Many faces administrative removal, detention, or deportation, often without timely or adequate legal advice.
• Some are subjected to the “hostile environment” policies: requirements for landlords, employers, or service providers to check immigration status, leading to denials of housing, employment, or health care.
• Access to legal representation is limited, funding is scarce, and procedural hurdles are high — reinforcing vulnerability.

Thus, those whose existence depends on the law are often the very ones made most vulnerable by the prevailing legal and political order.

Harassment, Threats & Silencing

Just as lawyers in the cited article report threats and hostility simply for doing their duty, immigrants often face harassment, violence, or intimidation — sometimes coming from state or quasi-state actors:

• Reports exist of hate crimes, verbal abuse, and physical attacks against people perceived as foreign or not “belonging.”
• In certain instances, asylum-seeking individuals have said that enforcement raids, immigration checks, or detention operations happen at dawn, startling households and sowing fear.
• Whistleblowers and migrant activists have been threatened, surveilled, or defamed when they attempt to highlight systemic abuses.

These actions are not isolated: they contribute to a chilling effect, discouraging people from speaking up, seeking help, or asserting rights.

Erosion of Public Trust & Rule of Law

The vilification of immigrants doesn’t only hurt individuals — it corrodes confidence in institutions meant to protect all people, undermines social cohesion, and weakens democracy.

• When political leaders denigrate certain groups, they tacitly endorse or legitimise discrimination or hostile measures by agencies.
• When courts or human rights protections are cast as interfering with “sovereign will,” it frames rights as obstacles to political agendas.
• When public discourse encourages scapegoating, it reduces empathy and encourages compartmentalisation: “They are not like us; they do not deserve our care.”

The same logic that denounces lawyers for defending unpopular causes — claiming that defending certain clients equals sympathy with their causes — applies all too well to immigrants: people are sometimes judged as guilty by association with their identity, rather than by individual circumstances.

What Can Be Done

If we accept that immigrants in the UK are suffering a similar fate — targeted, dehumanised, and denied protections — the question becomes: how to resist?

1. Rehumanise narratives
   Media, civil society, and political voices must emphasise personal stories, dignity, and nuance. Remind the public that migration is often about survival, family, or aspiration, not exploitation.
2. Strengthen legal safeguards
   Guarantee access to legal counsel for immigration and asylum cases. Limit detentions and ensure transparent, fair judicial review.
3. Hold public figures accountable
   Politicians, commentators, and officials who use inflammatory or demeaning language should be challenged — with fact-checking, public scrutiny, or recourse via oversight bodies.
4. Solidarity across communities
   Alliances between immigrant rights groups, legal associations, civil liberties organisations, and affected communities can pool strength and resources.
5. Promote civic and political literacy
   Educate the public on what laws and protections immigrants do have, how legal processes work, and why upholding rights for all is foundational to justice.

Immigrants in the UK today are, in many ways, echoing the experience of another vulnerable group: professionals doing their duty, yet demonised for it. The targeting is not always physical, but structural, psychological, legal — and because it is gradual, its dangers are easy to underestimate. To protect democracy, fairness, and human dignity, the fate of immigrants demands the same vigilance we afford to any group under siege.

The Judiciary and the Weight of Influence

Perhaps most troubling is how this climate seeps into the judiciary itself. Judges are not immune to the same public and political pressures that saturate the media landscape. When politicians rail against “soft justice” or the “abuse of human rights laws,” it shapes expectations — even subtly — within the courtroom. The result is often harsher sentencing and diminished discretion when the defendant is an immigrant. In some cases, even a minor offence — such as stealing a bar of chocolate — is met with disproportionate punishment, as if to make an example of the person rather than apply the law with humanity. This imbalance reflects not justice, but a judiciary swayed by rhetoric, where fear of public backlash outweighs compassion and proportionality. When that happens, the justice system risks becoming not a shield for the vulnerable, but another instrument of their vilification