If you don’t know what that is, you’re in luck, because you probably hold a passport that ranks high on the Henley Passport Index – a global ranking of countries in terms of the freedom of travel their passports enjoy. The higher your passport rank, the more “border privileges” you have – that is, the ability to cross national borders with, at best, a sense of excitement and, at worst, mild annoyance at the hassles of travel. As the reality of Brexit stings and international travel increases post-lockdown, Brits are about to learn a thing or two about border privileges – namely, what happens when you lose them. Only a nation that regarded the freedom of travel as a right could have thrown it away so stormily. Those who didn’t grow up privileged on the frontier can tell you that without it travel is a barrier. something you gird your loins for, prepare envelopes of documents, say lots of Hail Marys and inshallahs. Passports at the top of the Henley Index allow the holder to visit nearly 200 countries without securing a visa in advance. The ones below, like the Sudanese I was born with, have to go through the eye of a needle before being allowed into most countries. Applicants face almost insurmountable walls of bureaucracy and suspicion, comical demands for paperwork and, often, humiliation and denial. For a long time I was so scared of trips falling at the 11th hour that I wouldn’t make any plans until I was firmly on the other side of the border. I only booked tickets at the last minute, at exorbitant cost, when I was sure it was too late for anything to go wrong. Visa applications have languished for weeks and months past my intended travel date, I’ve missed sick relatives’ bedsides, friends and family’s holidays, and too many job and education opportunities than I can count. Holding a low-ranking passport means that its holder is under constant threat of being kicked out the doors mid-trip. A visa detail overlooked by a border official meant that I was called, as soon as I landed in Riyadh, into a room of angry Saudi border officials who berated me for this oversight and sent me back on the next flight. I was not allowed to leave the airport until I paid for the return flight, which took all the cash I had. Another time I was put into secondary processing in the US with no explanation and no recourse, where I was left for so long without information or notification, it probably amounted to some kind of illegal detention. Since 2016, the British passport has fallen from joint first place on the index to sixth. With this comes a new reality, which is already being described ominously as the “new normal”. Travel to and within Europe is becoming unpredictable, expensive and generally with more obstacles than others are used to. Introducing a single EU entry stamp sounds like a small enough thing, but it causes hours of queues and then the domino effect begins – missed connections, lost luggage, refund mazes. In this new reality, consistency is gone. What you’ll need to enter France is different to what you’ll need to enter Spain, the latter recently confirmed that British visitors may need proof of sufficient funds to cover your stay, a return ticket and proof of accommodation. Whatever the requirements, the sufficiency of your evidence must be assessed by a single guard within whose face all borders lie. You will understand that all travel authorizations, both those that require only a stamp and those that require an associated visa process, are subject to different versions of the same short sentence, which is usually attached to entry permits and disclaimers in travel information packets: You will not for a final entry visa, a border officer may refuse entry.’ Someone with a lowly passport will tell you that in all interactions with that border official you should definitely take your own advice, knowing that this guard holding your passport is, for the next few minutes, the most powerful person in the your life. They are sovereign, they can make or break laws on the spot and potentially plunge you into financial ruin. Even if things are bad, you should always remember that they can get a lot worse. In all cases you must calm yourself by repeating a mantra that reminds you that you are lucky: lucky to have come this far. lucky to have the papers and the means to travel at all. lucky you have the skill and physical ability to negotiate an unexpected obstacle. and lucky that the worst you’re likely to face is a smart ego and a wallet, rather than detention or deportation. I recount these experiences without rancor. One time I sat, shivering, next to a shaking old South Asian woman in a wheelchair while she was called into secondary processing at a US airport because she couldn’t speak enough English to answer questions about who she was visiting. Whatever work her family had done to secure her entry into the country was wiped out by a new arbitrary requirement. The most important lesson you will learn is that border guards can be ignorant of the law and yet have unlimited authority. They may be ill-informed, under-resourced or unable to keep up with changes in border policy. and yet they are part of such a large and messy border policing machine that your mistreatment and their mistakes will be swallowed up in its upheaval. For British travellers, however, there will be an extra kick. Your complaints will then be downplayed by Brexit evangelists. You’ll be told these are small sacrifices to make, the judgments of a privileged few amid a cost-of-living crisis in a country struggling to regain control of its borders and economic destiny, unable to afford or navigate the holidays to our nearest more cheaply accessible neighbors is a “first world” problem. But ultimately, what will become clear, as with all the consequences of Brexit, is that the benefits we’ve lost can be reclaimed by those who have the most – fast-tracks, travel insurance, capital and time. For the rest of us, I recommend putting together a paper envelope with supporting documents, a very early arrival at the airport, and if you’re overwhelmed by frustration or panic, remember that it could always be worse.
