Farhan Farani Farani Taylor Law Firm
I am a dual-qualified barrister (NP) and Solicitor (England & Wales). I am an Advocate of the Supreme Court of UK and a Solicitor practising in UK Human Rights, constitutional Law and public law, with a particular interest in the cross-border application of British and Pakistani constitutional norms. This note sets out my independent legal assessment of the obstacles and justifications for deporting Shabir Ahmed, together with a challenge to any simplistic assumption that the matter is merely one of political will. It is not a political commentary and a legal opinion.
The crimes committed by Shabir Ahmed against vulnerable children rank amongst the most serious criminal offences known to English law. The suffering of his victims should remain at the centre of any public discussion. Nothing about the legal complexities surrounding his deportation diminishes either the gravity of those crimes or society’s obligation to protect children.
From a constitutional perspective, however, difficult cases must still be decided according to law rather than emotion.
1. The UK’s domestic deportation framework and the “1973 shield”
Under section 32 of the UK Borders Act 2007, a non-British citizen sentenced to at least 12 months’ imprisonment is subject to automatic deportation unless one of the statutory exceptions applies (notably where deportation would breach the person’s rights under the European Convention on Human Rights or the Refugee Convention). Ahmed’s 22-year sentence plainly engages the automatic deportation duty, and the Crown Court’s recommendation for his removal reflects the overwhelming public interest in deporting a man convicted of the systematic rape and grooming of children.
Nevertheless, the case exposes a little-known legal relic: the exemption from deportation for certain Commonwealth citizens settled in the United Kingdom before 1 January 1973. Section 7 of the Immigration Act 1971, as originally enacted, provided that a Commonwealth citizen who was ordinarily resident in the UK on that date and had been so resident for the preceding five years could not be deported. This exemption was preserved for pre-1973 settlers even after the 1971 Act was largely overtaken by subsequent legislation. The critical question now being ventilated is whether Ahmed benefits from that shield. Pakistan left the Commonwealth on 30 January 1972, following the secession of Bangladesh, and did not rejoin until 1989. On 1 January 1973, therefore, a Pakistani citizen was not a “Commonwealth citizen” for the purposes of the Immigration Act 1971 (see R v Secretary of State for the Home Department, ex p. Naheed Akhtar [1996] Imm AR 123, in which the distinction was recognised). If Ahmed was not a Commonwealth citizen on the relevant date, the section 7 exemption is inapplicable and he is deportable on ordinary principles.
The Home Secretary, Shabana Mahmood, has announced an amendment to the Immigration and Asylum Bill that would expressly repeal any residual protection for long-term residents in Ahmed’s position. Even assuming that the amendment is enacted and that it withholds any human-rights-based saving—which would itself be vulnerable to an ECHR challenge under Articles 8 (private life) and 14 (discrimination) given the length of residence—the legislative change does not solve the central problem: Pakistan’s refusal to accept Ahmed. A deportation order is, in law, an obligation on the individual to leave, not a command to the receiving state. Without the cooperation of Pakistan, the order is unenforceable in practice.
Pakistan’s refusal to readmit Ahmed: international law and domestic constraints.
Pakistan’s position—that it will not take Shabir Ahmed back—stands in direct tension with customary international law and treaty obligations. Article 12(4) of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), to which Pakistan acceded in 2010, provides that “no one shall be arbitrarily deprived of the right to enter his own country.” The UN Human Rights Committee has consistently interpreted this to impose a duty on states to admit their nationals (General Comment No. 27, 1999, para. 21). Moreover, under customary international law, every state has a duty to receive back its nationals who have been expelled from another state (see the Nottebohm case, ICJ Reports 1955, and the International Law Commission’s Draft Articles on the Expulsion of Aliens, Article 22).
Pakistan’s domestic constitutional framework does not furnish a legal excuse for non-compliance. Under the Pakistan Citizenship Act 1951, a person who acquires British citizenship automatically loses Pakistani citizenship unless they hold a valid “Nicop” or have formal dual-nationality permission. I understand that Ahmed never naturalised as British and remains solely a Pakistani citizen. Even if he had lost citizenship, Pakistan could not render him stateless in violation of its obligations under the 1961 Convention on the Reduction of Statelessness. There is no provision in the Constitution of Pakistan 1973 that permits the executive to deny entry to a citizen whose citizenship has not been validly terminated by law. The government’s refusal is thus an extra-legal, political act, grounded in domestic political sensitivities and the fear that accepting a notorious offender would trigger public outrage. Legally, however, it is a breach of Pakistan’s international obligations.
This divergence between law and political reality creates a “legal limbo” of the kind the European Court of Human Rights addressed in Ahn v Germany (2018), where indefinite detention pending deportation was held to violate Article 5 of the ECHR if removal was not in prospect. The UK courts, applying R (Lumba) v Secretary of State for the Home Department [2011] UKSC 12, would likely conclude that continuing to hold Ahmed under immigration powers without a realistic prospect of removal is unlawful. The practical consequence is that Ahmed will remain in the community, subject to GPS monitoring and exclusion zones, unless Pakistan’s stance is changed.
I must challenge any narrative that frames the issue as a cultural or religious dilemma. The crimes of Shabir Ahmed are so extreme that there is, in my experience, universal condemnation among British Pakistanis.
That is ultimately a question of Pakistani domestic law rather than British law.
A Pakistani Constitutional Perspective
The Constitution of Pakistan protects due process and recognises equality before the law.
However, there is no constitutional principle requiring Pakistan to become a repository for individuals whose legal connection with Pakistan is disputed.
At the same time, Pakistan also has an international interest in demonstrating that its nationality laws operate consistently and transparently.
The issue should therefore be determined according to citizenship law—not political pressure or public outrage.
Those demanding immediate deportation often overlook that deportation requires cooperation from the receiving state and must comply with domestic and international legal obligations. Parliament cannot compel another sovereign state to admit someone.
Conversely, those arguing that legal technicalities should permanently prevent removal risk undermining public confidence in the immigration system when dealing with offenders convicted of exceptionally grave crimes against children. Parliament is entitled to reconsider legislation where its continued operation no longer reflects contemporary public policy.
My Independent View
In my opinion, this case should not become a political contest between Britain and Pakistan.
The correct legal sequence is straightforward:
1. Determine Ahmed’s nationality conclusively under Pakistani law.
2. If he is legally a Pakistani national, Pakistan should ordinarily accept his return under established principles governing the return of nationals.
3. If he is not a Pakistani national, the United Kingdom cannot simply compel Pakistan to receive him.
4. The United Kingdom should nevertheless continue to impose the strictest lawful licence conditions, monitoring and public protection measures while any legal obstacles remain.
Above all, the victims deserve justice founded on the rule of law rather than constitutional expediency. The answer lies not in weakening legal principles, but in ensuring immigration law, nationality law and international cooperation operate coherently so that those convicted of the gravest offences cannot exploit legal anomalies that Parliament never intended.
The the constitutional crisis between both states can prolong this issue however this is an issue which should seek a diplomatic solution.
