In London, where four in ten people came from abroad, the world finds itself in a city that for centuries welcomed immigrants with open arms. But tighter immigration policies and the growth of hostile immigrant movements are making life here increasingly difficult.
Who came before
It is in the heart of the city, at the foot of a street called Portugal, that Antonio Luís Fernandes works. He was not yet 19 when he made the decision to come to London in search of a job, in the 90s. “At first I thought it was a bit strange, I was alone, but then I got used to it.”
He passed several restaurants and cafes, where most of the employees were immigrants, until he stopped at a small cafe next to Portugal Street. “I thought I was in Portugal again,” he says, as we walk down the street full of students. We are passing through LSE, one of the most international universities in the UK, where the majority of students come from abroad.
The café, he tells me, has been in the same place for “more or less” 100 years (no one knows the exact age) at the service of the university. António Luís has been there for 35 years, first working for an Italian. The two got along well, perhaps because they were both from southern Europe, and he later kept the keys.
Anyone looking from the outside would not imagine that almost only Portuguese people work at “Wright’s Bar”. Everything is typically British, from the name, which António Luís preferred to keep, to the menu. “The customers are from all over the world, so I do them all a favor.” She admits that she thought about putting a francesinha on the menu, but decided against it. “The problem is that I don’t know the sauce system.”
Almost none of the people coming in as we speak are British. There is a symphony of accents — a whole world that fills the café at lunchtime. “It’s a good, small, familiar environment,” says Patrícia, a Portuguese woman who has worked here for six years.
The atmosphere is good, but just a few weeks ago protests by Restore Britain — a party even more to the right than Reform that advocates mass deportations — passed through here. Between British flags, beer cans and rubbish, the streets were flooded by thousands of people coming from all over the country to protest against immigrants. And some protesters came to the cafe. “They ate, drank, were polite”, says Antônio Luís. One of them made a point of saying he was English. Antônio preferred not to say anything.
“I don’t like the protests against immigrants”, says Gian Piero Abronzino, the only one behind the counter at “Wright’s” who is not Portuguese. He came from Sardinia to stay for a year and, like so many, he stayed. “I forgot to come home.” He comes from an immigrant family and makes a point of keeping things separate. “I think the English think, if you are an immigrant who comes here to work, to pay the bills normally, everything is fine. The English are happy because immigrants bring value to the United Kingdom. But if an immigrant comes for the free houses, for the benefits, to not work, to sell drugs…”, he says, raising his eyebrows.
Antônio Luís thinks the same. “They come in by boat, they come in trucks… it must be because of those people, I don’t know.” But he is sure of one thing: it is increasingly difficult to find people to work. “There are fewer Portuguese people this year, life is more expensive.”
Everything has gone up in price since Brexit — the pound has fallen, both European products and bringing in people from abroad have become more expensive, and living in the country is no longer what it used to be, says Antônio. And despite saying that he would do it all again, when we asked him what he would say to young Portuguese people who are thinking about coming at this moment, he doesn’t hesitate. “If it were now, I wouldn’t come. Studying here is good, but to pay the expenses, it’s better to be in our homeland.”
That’s where he plans to go when he retires. And “Great Britain”, as you call it, in a mix of English and Portuguese, what you will miss is the people.
Who came after
As we walk along Portugal Street, it’s hard not to see the world. It is on this street that a four-meter globe stands, a sculpture that a less attentive eye may not notice is turned inside out. “Familiar, strange and subject to change,” is how artist Mark Wallinger described the work — words that could also describe the United Kingdom today, a country that, for many, has been turned upside down since the referendum.
The person who passes by it every day is António Valentim, a professor at the university. He came to do a master’s degree at LSE in 2016 — the year of the referendum — and then returned, after traveling to Germany and the United States, this time to teach at the European Institute, where he studies political behavior. The referendum, he explains, changed everything.
“What we see in practice is that Brexit and immigration rules have radically changed the composition of immigrants entering the United Kingdom. Until a few years ago they were mainly Europeans, now they are mainly people from outside the European Union.”
In recent weeks, the country has seen increasingly violent protests, not just against immigrants but against anyone who doesn’t immediately look British; in other words, not white. Restore Britain and Reform — the latter led by Nigel Farage, one of the main supporters of Brexit — have been the main arsonists.
“Even though it is not the main opposition party in parliament, Reform has very clearly defined the agenda”, explains Antônio. “And as a consequence we see not only the Conservative party but also the Labor party in government taking much more restrictive positions in terms of immigration.”
It’s an issue that remains at the center of political debate ten years after the referendum, as Britain prepares for its seventh prime minister in a decade and the Labor government tries to deal with immigrants without knowing where to turn. On the one hand, it has made permanent residence more difficult by doubling the waiting time before being able to live in the country; on the other, it is trying to get closer to Brussels, with a summit between the United Kingdom and the European Union planned for next month — one of Keir Starmer’s last.
But Antônio thinks the country will not go back. “It’s not a reversal of Brexit, it’s trying to respond to public opinion, and increase cooperation with the EU on strategic issues.” And although the future of the UK-EU relationship remains open, Antônio’s is not — he plans to stay in the United Kingdom and live for now, and see up close where the country ends up. “I really enjoy my life here… a lot of good things come from taking risks. Coming here to study gave me access to many worlds that made me a more fulfilled professional, but also a more fulfilled person.”
But for their European students, that is no longer the case. When it came the first time, it came “like a person goes from Portugal to Spain”, but the second time it had to be sponsored by the university. “Before Brexit it was much easier, now they need an employer to sponsor their visa, and that has a lot more costs, it’s much more complicated.” And these costs are increasing — sponsoring a foreign worker on a five-year visa can cost a British employer more than 10 thousand pounds (around 15 thousand euros) in mandatory fees alone.
Who comes back
It is because of this that Catarina, who arrived less than a year ago to do a master’s degree in international politics and economics, has already decided that she will return to Portugal. The initial plan was to stay longer, perhaps get a job in London, the city where he always dreamed of living — but although the university opened its arms and exceeded his expectations, the country and its immigration policies changed their plans. “I don’t know if I consider myself an immigrant,” he admits. “I consider myself more of a visitor.”
“Everything happens here, you can be whatever you want, and I love it. It’s a city full of life,” he says, enthusiasm escaping his voice. “But it’s very difficult to stay.”
Even with a master’s degree from King’s College, on the other side of Portugal Street, opposite the LSE, she needs a work visa to stay longer and be sponsored by whoever hires her, which is even more difficult just because she’s from abroad. “Between a person who costs thousands of reais on top of a salary and a person who costs zero, they will always choose the one who costs zero.”
She is the only Portuguese in her master’s degree, and the decision to come was not easy, mainly for financial reasons. “It was very difficult because I think that if I had studied four or five years ago, the rules were not yet in force and I would have paid half the monthly fees.” At universities such as LSE and King’s College, tuition fees for international students — European students included since Brexit — can range from around 30,000 to close to 50,000 euros per academic year, through the program. Catarina had to take out a loan. “It’s very frustrating… you’re paying an extra fee just because you’re not from here.”
And she also worries about the way the country is closing in on itself. “If Reform manages to get into government, which is what many people here predict, the situation will get a lot worse. It’s all part of the same trajectory, from Nigel Farage starting campaigning for Brexit ten years ago to the much more closed country we’ve reached today.” The loser, he says, is the United Kingdom.
The return flight has already been purchased, and saying goodbye to London is difficult, but you don’t regret coming. “It’s a chapter that closes without any resentment, and I take away many ideas that I would like to see implemented in Portugal.” When asked if he would tell a young Portuguese man to come now, he smiles. “I’m having this conversation right now with a young Portuguese man, and I would say come if you’re comfortable with what an investment it is. If there’s that support, yes. Otherwise, unfortunately, it’s impossible to survive here.”
