A dramatic landing on Peros Banhos has reignited global attention on the Chagos Archipelago. Behind the symbolism of the event, lie uncomfortable questions about power and who truly benefits from the struggle for justice.
Mandarin has made history in the long and painful saga of the Chagos Archipelago. Last week, he and three other descendants of Chagossians landed on Peros Banhos, openly defying the law. The UK Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office (FCDO) was quick to reiterate that entering the Chagos Islands without a valid permit is illegal and issued the group with an eviction order. That order, however, was successfully challenged in court, with a judge blocking the deportation of the four Chagossians.
Observers of this latest episode in the Chagos story have been left dumbstruck. Nobody saw that coming. In videos filmed from Peros Banhos, Mandarin admits that the operation had been planned for months and deliberately kept secret. He speaks confidently, laughing and boasting about their boat (aptly named No Excuse), about internet access on the island, and about the powerful people backing him with his plans of building schools and hospitals.
Then the wider picture comes into focus.
Adam Holloway, former Conservative MP turned Reform UK member who is on the island with Misley Mandarin and his crew. Nigel Farage, leader of Reform UK, who travelled to the Maldives over the weekend but was prevented from going further to Peros Banhos. GB News interviews Mandarin, a familiar face on this self-described anti-establishment channel. This landing looks increasingly like a carefully orchestrated intervention by far-right activists aimed at sabotaging the deal between the UK and Mauritius over the retrocession of the Chagos Archipelago.
There is no denying the emotional power of watching Chagossians step foot on their homeland after more than fifty years of forced exile. It stirs compassion and a deep sense of historical injustice. Yet it is equally difficult to ignore the political capital from Farage and his allies. Imagine the optics if the UK were to deport Mandarin and his companions. Reform UK would waste no time portraying a Labour government as repeating history: forcibly removing Chagossians from their homeland once again, including the father of Misley Mandarin, a native-born Chagossian. The symbolism would be devastating.
This matters because Reform UK is no longer a fringe force. An Ipsos poll from January 2026 shows Reform UK leading voting intention on 30%, eight points ahead of Labour on 22%, with the Conservatives on 19%. Reform UK is currently the most popular party and is well positioned to win the next general election.
Immigration is at the heart of Reform UK’s appeal. Nigel Farage has made it his political warhorse, promising a mass deportation bill and declaring to business leaders that the era of cheap foreign labour is over. His party announced this week plans to deport up to 288 000 people a year on five flights a day. They also plan to terminate the status of those with Indefinite Leave to Remain in the UK.
We can perhaps understand why many British voters, frustrated by years of ineffective immigration policy, find Farage’s message compelling. He is widely seen as the only politician serious about ending mass immigration. What is harder to understand is why Chagossian descendants — themselves immigrants, albeit British passport holders — would align with Reform UK in their struggle for justice.
Many Chagossians’ spouses and children do not hold British passports and do not automatically qualify for the same fast-tracked rights. They must navigate standard UK immigration rules to obtain Indefinite Leave to Remain, meeting financial thresholds, demonstrating English language proficiency, and passing the Life in the UK test. Unlike the free registration available to Chagossian descendants, spouse visa applications involve substantial fees. Under Farage’s proposed policies, these very people could be among those threatened with deportation. Some would call this stance racist. And yet here we are: a group of Chagossians working hand in hand with the very man who seeks to dismantle the protections their families rely on.
So who is using who?
Is Mandarin using Farage and far-right networks for his own cause, betting on the likelihood that Farage could become the next Prime Minister? Or are Farage and his allies using Mandarin by exploiting a legitimate historical injustice to block a deal that would end British sovereignty over the archipelago?
Who is more dangerous? A potential Prime Minister threatening to deport hundreds of thousands of people? Or a man who has unilaterally declared himself First Minister of the Chagos Archipelago? And what of those who recognise this title, knowing that no one can assume such authority without a lawful and democratic mandate?
Misley Mandarin is undoubtedly brave. Brave enough to defy a powerful state, brave enough to land on forbidden islands, brave enough to challenge a history of injustice inflicted by Britain with US complicity. Viewed legally, his actions are unlawful. Viewed compassionately, they appear noble, almost Robin Hood-like, a modern defender of the oppressed.
But bravery does not immunise one from criticism.
Listening to Mandarin’s declarations, we oscillate between shock and disbelief. He warns those who question his authority that he is the one who will decide who may enter the archipelago. He insists that Chagossian descendants who identify as Mauritian will be allowed only as visitors. In doing so, he appears to replicate the very exclusionary logic once used against his own people.
This brings to mind ‘Pedagogy of the Oppressed.’ Paulo Freire warns of the moment when the oppressed, rather than dismantling systems of domination, internalise them. Former victims begin to mirror the very exclusionary practices once used against them, replacing the struggle for liberation with the exercise of power.
The Chagos struggle deserves justice, dignity, and repair. It also deserves clarity and honesty about who stands to gain, who stands to lose, and who is quietly pulling the strings.
Dr Sylvia Edouard Gundowry
