Kemi Badenoch vows to remove 150,000 migrants annually from the UK

At the Conservative Party conference on October 6, 2025, Kemi Badenoch, the fiery Tory leader and one of Britain’s most polarizing political figures, unveiled her boldest policy yet: a vow to deport 150,000 migrants every year.

Framed as a US-style crackdown on illegal immigration, Badenoch announced the creation of a “Removals Force” modeled on the American Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agency. With funding doubled to £1.6 billion annually, the new unit would replace the Home Office’s existing Immigration Enforcement service.

“Our mandate will be relentless,” Badenoch declared to rapturous applause from Tory loyalists. “We will increase removals from 34,000 to 150,000 per year, meaning at least 750,000 removals over a parliament. They don’t belong here. They are committing crimes. They are hurting people. They will go back to where they came from.”

It was vintage Badenoch: tough, unapologetic, confrontational — and immediately divisive.

Immigration has long been Britain’s most combustible political issue. From Enoch Powell’s “Rivers of Blood” speech in 1968, to Nigel Farage’s Brexit-era posters of migrants crossing Europe, to Priti Patel’s Rwanda deportation plan, immigration has repeatedly defined political careers.

For Badenoch, whose leadership rests on energizing the Tory grassroots after years of electoral decline, immigration is both a rallying cry and a test of credibility.

Her speech came against the backdrop of:

• Record small boat crossings in 2024 (nearly 60,000).
• Continued legal migration under skilled-worker visas, hitting half a million net migration in 2023.
• Labour’s struggles under Prime Minister Keir Starmer to reduce asylum backlogs.

Badenoch has positioned herself as the voice of “real conservatism” — unafraid to clash with international institutions and embrace radical policies to prove the Tories can be trusted on borders.

The centerpiece of Badenoch’s plan is the Removals Force.

Modeled explicitly on U.S. ICE, the unit would:

• Deploy thousands of new officers across ports, airports, and communities.
• Use data-sharing agreements with police, local councils, and even private landlords.
• Fast-track deportations of failed asylum seekers, overstayers, and convicted foreign offenders.
• Operate detention centers with expanded capacity, likely requiring new facilities.

At £1.6 billion annually, the budget would almost double current enforcement spending. Badenoch argues this is the only way to break what she calls “a culture of impunity” among illegal migrants.

Badenoch confirmed what many had speculated: her government would seek to withdraw the UK from the ECHR.

Critics argue that the ECHR has made deportations harder, citing repeated court injunctions against removals to unsafe countries. Badenoch said bluntly:

“We will no longer allow foreign judges in Strasbourg to dictate who Britain can and cannot remove. The British people elected me to protect our borders, not to bow to unelected bureaucrats.”

This pledge sets up a constitutional showdown. Withdrawal from the ECHR would put the UK outside the postwar European human rights framework for the first time, aligning Britain closer to Hungary and Russia than to its Western European neighbors.

Skeptics have zeroed in on the practical question: is 150,000 removals a year even possible?

• Current removals: 34,000 annually.
• Target: 150,000 annually, or over four times higher.
• Historic context: The UK has never achieved removals anywhere near this figure. Even under Tony Blair, with robust resources, removals peaked at about 60,000.

To hit Badenoch’s goal, Britain would need:

• Massive expansion of detention centers.
• Bilateral deportation deals with dozens of countries.
• Legal reforms to strip appeal rights.
• Charter flights removing hundreds of people weekly.

Analysts warn that logistics alone may sink the plan. Many migrants cannot be deported because their home countries refuse to take them back.

The backlash was swift.

• Labour’s Home Secretary, Shabana Mahmood: “This is headline-chasing, not policymaking. The Conservatives’ record on removals is abysmal, and Badenoch’s plan lacks credibility.”
• Amnesty International UK: “The proposed withdrawal from the ECHR would dismantle Britain’s international reputation as a defender of rights. This is dangerous politics dressed up as border control.”
• Business leaders: quietly warned that aggressive crackdowns could spook global investors reliant on migrant labor.

Migrants’ rights activists staged protests outside the conference hall, carrying banners reading “No human is illegal” and “Deportation destroys families.”

Inside the hall, however, Badenoch was triumphant. Party members rose to their feet, cheering her defiance. For many, this was the kind of bold, uncompromising conservatism they felt had been missing since Brexit.

One party activist told the BBC:

“This is why we chose Kemi. She says what people are thinking and isn’t afraid of the Guardian or the BBC. 150,000 removals a year is exactly what Britain needs.”

For Badenoch, the speech wasn’t just policy. It was political theater — cementing her position as the standard-bearer of the Tory right.

Britain’s European partners are watching nervously. Withdrawal from the ECHR could complicate cooperation on extradition and border security. France, already strained by small boat crossings, warned that Badenoch’s plan risked “destabilizing joint operations.”

The U.S. reaction was more mixed. Some Republicans praised the ICE-style model, while Democrats criticized the UK for abandoning human rights norms.

In Africa and Asia, where many migrants originate, leaders bristled at Badenoch’s rhetoric. Nigeria’s foreign ministry condemned her “blanket criminalization of migrants.”

Badenoch’s plan cannot be separated from the global politics of migration. Across Europe, populist leaders have surged by promising tougher borders. From Giorgia Meloni in Italy to Marine Le Pen in France, immigration has become the defining political question of the 2020s.

Britain is no exception. The Badenoch doctrine is simple: deterrence through removal. But history suggests deterrence alone rarely works. Migration is driven by war, poverty, climate change, and family ties.

The deeper question is whether Badenoch’s Britain will embrace isolationism or remain part of a cooperative global system.

If implemented, Badenoch’s plan would transform Britain’s migration landscape.

• Detention centers would expand across the country, sparking local resistance.
• Charter flights could become weekly spectacles, with activists chaining themselves to runways in protest.
• Legal battles would rage through British courts, with appeals challenging every removal.
• Diplomatic standoffs would intensify as countries refuse to take back nationals.

The images would be stark: families torn apart, children in detention, nightly news filled with deportation planes. For some, this would be evidence of strength. For others, a moral nadir.

Kemi Badenoch’s vow to deport 150,000 migrants annually is not just a policy. It is a political gamble — a bet that hardline immigration rhetoric can revive Conservative fortunes.

The promise electrifies Tory loyalists but alienates moderates, business leaders, and human rights defenders. Its feasibility is doubtful, its legal basis contested, and its diplomatic fallout potentially severe.

Yet in the theater of modern politics, feasibility may matter less than optics. Badenoch has positioned herself as the uncompromising defender of Britain’s borders, unafraid to break with international norms.

Whether she succeeds or fails, one truth is clear: immigration will remain the defining battleground of British politics in the decade ahead.