My Lords, this afternoon’s speeches have reassured me that I was not misreading the clause when I ended up, time after time, in confusion—not just as to the principle, but as to the point. I would sum up my confusion with three questions to myself. If someone is stateless, it seems he may be allowed to remain in the country, so how is the threat diminished? Indeed, is not any threat increased because of the reaction of the individual and his community against the state’s action? Secondly, what happens to his dependants—are they not likely to become more of a burden on the state? Thirdly, is this one of those occasions when neither Parliament, concerned with the principle, nor the individual, at the sharp end of the practice, is able to challenge the decision—one of those occasions of “If you knew what I know”? We are not thought police, and I was reassured when I read in the clause a reference to a person having “conducted” him or herself in a prejudicial manner—but of course we cannot know about conduct any more than thought.
Like the noble Baroness, I read the report in the Independent today and I thought it a clear example of the impact on someone left stranded. I think he was served with the decision when he was transferring between planes: he was part way—as he would have said—home, and had to return to, I think I am right in saying, Waziristan. However, he was stranded: separated from his community and perhaps family—I do not recall—in the UK, but regarded almost as an outlaw, and, as he put it, in danger from those in Pakistan and Waziristan who regarded him with considerable suspicion. It is a very disturbing story.