Just 74 days into her new role as home secretary, Shabana Mahmood has unveiled what she calls “the most substantial reform to the UK’s asylum system in a generation”.

Immigration is currently viewed as the most important issue facing the country, followed by the economy. While many, especially within the Labour party, have long found border control an awkward terrain, Mahmood’s stance is unambiguous: “I just don’t know why we’ve got ourselves in a tangle talking about migration controls on the left of politics … it’s really pretty fundamental to the way a lot of our voters think.”

Her proposals are, broadly, intended to deter illegal immigration by making the UK a less attractive destination for asylum seekers. Mahmood has proposed, among other things: making refugee status more temporary, reforming human rights legislation to make it harder for illegal migrants to remain in the UK and suspending UK visas for countries that refuse to accept returned migrants.

Some on the left of Labour have already condemned the proposals. But figures on the political right have applauded Mahmood’s assertion that uncontrolled asylum and immigration are contributing to social division.

Beyond the policy substance, Mahmood’s Commons delivery attracted praise from the right: confident, assured and like a future leader. Former Conservative minister Michael Gove has called Mahmood the “standout figure” of the current government, describing her as having “a totally coherent worldview”.

How did Mahmood, who once stated that she personally supported a general amnesty for all undocumented workers, become the face of a hardline Labour migration policy, lauded by the political right?

Journey of a politician

Born in Birmingham, to Kashmiri Pakistani Muslim parents, Mahmood spent part of her early childhood in Saudi Arabia, where her father worked as a civil engineer, before returning to Birmingham.

Her family life was steeped in politics. Her father chaired the Birmingham Labour Party and was known locally as an honest broker who mediated neighbourhood disputes. Her mother ran the family’s corner shop – giving Mahmood a “shopkeeper’s daughter” background reminiscent of another formidable woman in British politics. She cites Margaret Thatcher as one of her heroes, alongside Benazir Bhutto, Pakistan’s first female prime minister.

Her political consciousness sharpened after 9/11. She found herself being held “accountable” by strangers for events thousands of miles away. She had experienced racism before, her first encounter was at age eight. But the post-9/11 shift was of a different magnitude, which she described as a “shock to the system”.

Elected in 2010 as one of the first female Muslim MPs, she quickly entered the shadow cabinet. She avoided frontbench roles under Jeremy Corbyn, citing incompatible economic views. Under Keir Starmer, she served as national campaign coordinator and worked closely with strategist Morgan McSweeney. She is also seen as having played a significant role in the crucial 2021 Batley and Spen byelection.

Mahmood speaks openly about her British Muslim identity and the sense of responsibility that comes with public visibility. “You have to accept the broader role that you have to play,” she has said, noting that many British Muslims instinctively look to her as a representative figure.

And yet, Mahmood’s own electoral base has shifted dramatically. Her majority in Birmingham Ladywood fell from nearly 30,000 in 2019 – one of the largest in the country – to just 3,400 in 2024, after a strong challenge from an independent pro-Gaza candidate.

She has also faced strong criticism for her abstention from a November 2023 vote on an amendment to the King’s Speech calling for an immediate ceasefire in Gaza.

Mahmood has in recent years assumed a markedly tougher line on immigration. This shift is reflected as much in her language and style, as in the policies she is advocating. Her presentation leans heavily into a no-nonsense, get-the-job-done approach.

She has stressed that she is the “the child of immigrants” whose parents “came here legally” and played by the rules. She establishes a firm boundary between lawful migration and the illegal immigration she argues now defines the broken asylum system.

Reputational shield?

Before becoming home secretary, she had already earned admiration for her handling of what was arguably the most daunting early assignment of the 2024 Labour government. As justice secretary, she faced a prison system running at 99% capacity. She introduced an early release programme that risked perceptions of being “soft on crime,” yet navigated the controversy with minimal turbulence.

A trained barrister who once dreamed of becoming “Kavanagh QC”, Mahmood brings legal expertise and a rule-of-law approach to immigration debates. Themes of “fairness” and “public consent” appear throughout her asylum policy proposals.

Her style is precise, technocratic and intellectually disciplined. These are qualities which help Labour toughen its immigration platform without appearing purely performative.

But Mahmood also plays a symbolic role. When political parties move rightwards on immigration, they often place minority politicians in prominent roles to provide a “reputational shield”. This allows them to advance stricter policies while deflecting accusations of intolerance.

Conservative governments spent more than a decade deploying this strategy in the Home Office. Sajid Javid, Priti Patel and Suella Braverman all embodied the dynamic. Labour, historically, has placed far fewer minorities in top portfolios, which makes Mahmood’s appointment all the more notable. In some respects, Labour now appears to be adopting an approach previously associated with its opponents.

Despite her experience in electoral strategy, Mahmood insists the asylum reforms are not an attempt to win back Reform UK voters or to position Labour tactically. Instead, she frames them as a response to “the genuine concerns of the British people” and an effort to rebuild trust in a system that has lost public confidence. It is a gamble that places the weight of Labour’s promise of competence squarely on the Home Office, and on Mahmood’s ability to deliver it.

This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit, independent news organization bringing you facts and trustworthy analysis to help you make sense of our complex world. It was written by: Parveen Akhtar, Aston University

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Parveen Akhtar has previously received funding from the Economic and Social Research Council and the British Academy