Military barracks can retraumatize people who have fled conflict
Britain continues its long reckoning with how a wealthy nation houses those who arrive seeking safety, as the Home Office moves to repurpose former military installations across England for thousands of asylum seekers. The shift away from hotels — which consumed £2.1 billion in public funds last year — reflects both fiscal pressure and political urgency, yet the alternative of remote barracks raises its own moral questions about dignity and isolation. At a moment of leadership transition and impending immigration legislation, the country finds itself navigating the tension between the cost of compassion and the cost of its absence.
- A £2.1 billion annual hotel bill and a peak population of 56,000 asylum seekers in temporary accommodation created a crisis that neither party could afford to ignore.
- Three new military sites in Oxfordshire, Suffolk, and Yorkshire are being prepared for 3,750 people, even as local protests have already forced the cancellation of one similar scheme in Inverness.
- The Red Cross warns that isolated barracks risk retraumatizing people who have already fled violence, insisting that cheaper cannot mean less humane.
- Parliament is set to receive a sweeping Immigration and Asylum Bill next week aimed at accelerating forced removals, while a new prime minister waits in the wings to inherit the entire contested framework.
- Hotel numbers have fallen from a peak of 56,000 to roughly 20,885, with twenty more closures this month — progress that satisfies almost no one across the political spectrum.
The British government is preparing to move thousands of asylum seekers from hotels into three former military sites in Bicester, Barnham, and Linton-on-Ouse, with capacity for roughly 3,750 people pending planning permission. Extensions are also being sought at two existing military facilities in Essex and East Sussex. The move is the latest step in dismantling a hotel-based system that cost £2.1 billion in 2024-2025 — down from £3 billion the year before, but still politically and financially untenable. Twenty hotels were closed this month alone, bringing the active total to 170.
Border minister Alex Norris described the military sites as a clear improvement over what the previous government left behind, while Conservative shadow home secretary Chris Philp dismissed the approach as rearranging deck chairs, arguing that only accelerated deportations would create a meaningful deterrent. The debate reflects a deeper impasse: the government is trying to reduce costs and assert control, while critics on both sides question whether the method addresses the underlying problem.
The human dimension remains unresolved. The Red Cross cautioned that remote, institutional settings can retraumatize people fleeing conflict and persecution, and a planned scheme in Inverness was scrapped this week after public protests — a reminder that military accommodation carries its own political friction. The majority of people in the system arrived via small boat crossings, which reached 41,472 in 2025 despite Labour's campaign pledges to reduce them.
Next week's Immigration and Asylum Bill will seek to increase forced removals of rejected claimants, with Home Secretary Shabana Mahmood leading it through a Commons that includes resistant Labour backbenchers. The legislation will ultimately be inherited by the next prime minister — likely Andy Burnham — following Sir Keir Starmer's resignation. Whether military barracks can serve as genuinely dignified housing, or merely as a cheaper form of limbo, remains the question the policy has yet to answer.
The British government is preparing to move thousands of asylum seekers out of hotels and into three former military installations spread across England's countryside. If planning permission comes through, sites in Bicester, Oxfordshire; Barnham, Suffolk; and Linton-on-Ouse in North Yorkshire could collectively house roughly 3,750 people. The Home Office is also seeking to extend operations at two existing military facilities—one in Crowborough, East Sussex, through 2030, and another in Wethersfield, Essex, beyond 2027. This represents the latest chapter in a years-long effort to dismantle a hotel-based asylum system that has become both expensive and politically toxic.
The shift away from hotels has real momentum. As of March, about 20,885 asylum seekers—roughly a fifth of the total—were still living in hotels, while the remainder occupied other forms of accommodation as their claims wound through the system. That represents significant progress from September 2023, when the hotel population peaked at 56,000. This month alone, the Home Office closed twenty additional hotels, bringing the active roster down to 170. The financial case for change is stark: in 2024-2025, hotels consumed £2.1 billion in public money, down from £3 billion the year before, but still an enormous drain on resources that the government argues could be better spent elsewhere.
Border security and asylum minister Alex Norris framed the military sites as a marked improvement over the inherited system. "We are moving asylum seekers into ex-military sites that are a far cry from the hotels the last government left us with," he said, adding that the administration is committed to bringing "a system being brought back under control." The Conservative opposition, however, sees the entire approach as insufficient. Shadow home secretary Chris Philp argued that Labour should focus on deportations rather than shuffling people between accommodation types, saying the government "will not do what is needed to tear down the barriers to deportation, and without deportation, there is no deterrent."
Yet the military barracks strategy carries its own complications and costs. The Red Cross has raised concerns that such facilities, often situated in remote locations, can retraumatize people who have already fled violence and persecution. Sam Turner, the organization's director of migration and displacement, acknowledged that hotels have failed to serve anyone well, but insisted that "any alternative accommodation must enable people to live in safety and dignity." Local communities have also resisted these plans. Earlier this week, an MP announced that a scheme to house up to 300 male asylum seekers at Cameron Barracks in Inverness had been scrapped following public protests—a sign that moving people into military camps does not automatically resolve the political friction surrounding asylum accommodation.
The timing of these announcements matters. Next week, Parliament is expected to receive the Immigration and Asylum Bill, which will aim to increase forced removals of people whose asylum claims have been rejected. Home Secretary Shabana Mahmood will shepherd the legislation through the Commons, though it faces resistance from some Labour backbenchers. The bill will ultimately land on the desk of the next prime minister, following the recent resignation of Sir Keir Starmer. Andy Burnham, widely expected to succeed him, has already signaled support for the broad direction of Mahmood's approach.
The asylum system's current strain traces back to 2020, when hotel use surged due to a backlog in processing claims and a shortage of permanent housing. The majority of people now in the system arrived by crossing the English Channel in small boats. Despite Labour's campaign promise to dismantle trafficking gangs and reduce crossings, arrivals remained high in 2025, with 41,472 people making the journey. The government's pivot toward military sites represents an attempt to manage that flow more cheaply and, politically, more acceptably—though whether isolated barracks can truly serve as dignified housing for traumatized people remains an open question.
Notable Quotes
We are moving asylum seekers into ex-military sites that are a far cry from the hotels the last government left us with. This is a system being brought back under control.— Alex Norris, Border Security and Asylum Minister
Any alternative accommodation must enable people to live in safety and dignity, not in isolated locations that can retraumatize those who have fled conflict and persecution.— Sam Turner, British Red Cross Director of Migration and Displacement
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why move people out of hotels at all? Isn't the real problem that there are too many asylum seekers arriving in the first place?
The cost is the immediate driver. Two billion pounds a year is hard to defend politically, especially when you've promised to get control of the system. But there's also a practical point: hotels were never meant to be long-term housing. They're expensive, they concentrate vulnerable people in ways that invite local backlash, and they don't actually help anyone settle or integrate.
So military barracks are the answer?
They're cheaper, and they exist—the government already owns them. But the Red Cross is right to worry. These places are often miles from town, from services, from anything resembling normal life. For someone who's fled war or persecution, that isolation can feel like another kind of confinement.
Has this been tried before?
Yes, and it's been messy. They tried to open a site in Inverness just this week and had to scrap it after local protests. The two existing military sites have faced practical difficulties and constant opposition from residents and human rights groups. It's not a clean solution.
What happens if these three new sites get approved?
They'd house 3,750 more people, which would further reduce the hotel population. But the real test comes next week when the government introduces legislation to speed up deportations. That's where the actual pressure on the system will be felt—not where people sleep, but how quickly they're processed and removed.
And if deportations don't increase?
Then you're just moving the same problem around. More military sites, fewer hotels, but the underlying backlog and the flow of new arrivals remain unchanged. The government's betting that tougher removal laws will finally break the logjam.