Nigel Farage, leader of Reform UK, has thrown a political grenade into Britain’s simmering immigration debate by unveiling an ambitious—and highly controversial—plan to deport asylum seekers arriving in the UK by small boats. The proposals, detailed in interviews and party briefings over the past two days, would see the introduction of mass deportations, new laws to bar migrants from claiming asylum, and the UK’s withdrawal from key international human rights agreements. The announcement has triggered fierce reactions across the political spectrum and raised urgent questions about Britain’s approach to migration, international law, and national identity.
According to The Times, Farage’s plan hinges on a new piece of emergency legislation: the Illegal Migration (Mass Deportation) Bill, set to be published next week. The bill would allow for the immediate arrest of migrants arriving by small boats, their detention in new or repurposed facilities—including disused RAF bases—and their deportation within 30 days. Those affected would be denied the right to claim asylum in the UK, a dramatic departure from existing policy and international obligations.
“The aim of this legislation is mass deportations,” Farage told The Times. “We have a massive crisis in Britain. It is not only posing a national security threat but it’s leading to public anger that frankly is not very far away from disorder. There is only one way to stop people coming into Britain and that is to detain them and deport them.”
Farage’s plan, dubbed Operation Restoring Justice, is as sweeping as it is contentious. It would see five charter flights leave the UK every day, carrying migrants back to their countries of origin—or, if that proves impossible, to third countries such as Rwanda or Albania, or even British overseas territories like Ascension Island in the South Atlantic. The party claims it would build detention centres capable of holding 24,000 people within 18 months, with migrants housed there barred from leaving or claiming bail, though they would have access to canteens and medical facilities.
As BBC News reports, the plan also includes a voluntary returns scheme, offering £2,500 to migrants willing to leave the country on their own accord, possibly using a dedicated app. For those who attempt to return after deportation or destroy their identity documents, new criminal offences would be introduced. Farage has floated deals with countries such as Afghanistan and Eritrea—despite the well-documented dangers faced by returnees in those places, as highlighted by Amnesty International, which notes that asylum seekers returned to Eritrea risk torture or even death, while corporal punishment and torture are common under the Taliban in Afghanistan.
Financially, Farage estimates the measures would cost £10 billion over five years, including £2.5 billion to convert military bases, £2 billion for detention costs, £1.5 billion for staff, £1.5 billion for charter flights, and £2 billion for diplomatic incentives to secure returns agreements. He claims, however, that the plan would ultimately save the government £7 billion compared to current asylum spending, largely by eliminating the need for asylum hotels and other temporary accommodation.
“Who is our priority? Is it the safety and security of this country and its people? Or are we worrying about everybody else and foreign courts? That's what it comes down to. Whose side are you on?” Farage challenged in his interview with The Times.
Central to the plan—and perhaps its most radical element—is the proposal to take Britain out of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) and repeal the Human Rights Act, replacing them with a British Bill of Rights that would not reference human rights. The ECHR, established in 1950, is a cornerstone of UK law and has been instrumental in blocking previous attempts to deport migrants deemed to be in the country illegally. Farage argues that only by leaving the ECHR and derogating from other international agreements, such as the Refugee Convention, can Britain regain full control of its borders.
The political response has been swift and scathing. Labour’s border security minister, Angela Eagle, dismissed the proposals as “another pie in the sky policy from a party that will say anything for a headline.” She added, “Nigel Farage is simply plucking numbers out of the air. We are getting a grip of the broken asylum system, making sure those with no right to be here are removed or deported.” Home Secretary Yvette Cooper echoed this, saying the new government had “sharply increased” enforcement and returns, and is committed to closing asylum hotels “as swiftly as possible” in an orderly fashion.
The Conservatives, for their part, accused Reform UK of recycling their own ideas. Shadow home secretary Chris Philp pointed out, “This big reveal is just recycling many ideas the Conservatives have already announced. Nigel Farage previously claimed mass deportations were impossible, and now he says it's his policy. Who knows what he'll say next.”
Legal and practical challenges loom large over Farage’s vision. The previous Conservative government’s scheme to send asylum seekers to Rwanda was mired in legal disputes and ultimately resulted in just four people being sent before Labour ended the program. Many experts question whether deals with countries like Afghanistan and Eritrea are feasible, given the human rights records and the likelihood of international condemnation. There’s also the matter of the UK’s legal obligation to provide accommodation to asylum seekers who would otherwise be destitute—a duty that has led to the widespread use of hotels and military sites, sparking local protests and court battles, such as the ongoing dispute over the Bell Hotel in Epping.
The timing of Farage’s announcement is no accident. Britain is facing record numbers of Channel crossings, with nearly 28,000 people arriving so far in 2025, according to The Independent. The Home Office reported a record 111,000 asylum applications in the year to June, even as spending on asylum fell by 12% to £4.76 billion in the year ending March 2025. More than half of small boat arrivals are from Afghanistan, Eritrea, Iran, Sudan, and Syria—countries racked by conflict and repression.
Public anger over the use of hotels and the perceived strain on local services has fueled protests and political pressure. Prime Minister Keir Starmer’s government has pledged to end the use of large-scale sites for housing asylum seekers, but has yet to deliver on this promise. Councils across the country, regardless of political affiliation, are mounting legal challenges to prevent hotels in their areas from being used as temporary accommodation.
As the debate rages, one thing is clear: Farage’s proposals have reignited the national conversation about immigration, sovereignty, and Britain’s place in the world. Whether his plan is a bold solution or an unworkable fantasy remains to be seen, but it has forced politicians, activists, and ordinary citizens alike to confront uncomfortable questions about who gets to call Britain home—and on what terms.
The coming weeks will reveal whether Farage’s gambit reshapes the political landscape, or simply adds another chapter to Britain’s long-running struggle over borders and belonging.
