308 D. Owen the very documentation that many had been denied within overly demanding deadlines.29 As a report for the Brookings Institute notes: Records, while not completely reliable, show that up to 7000 people were able to regularize their status before the expiration of a June 2015 moratorium. Those who were unable to regularize their status were required to register as foreigners in the country where they were born. Many of the affected had never seen Haiti but between August 2015 and May 2016—after the expiration of the June 2015 moratorium—it was estimated that over 40,000 people were deported from the Dominican Republic to Haiti. A further 71,389 people reportedly returned ‘spontaneously’.30 The Dominican Republic is, of course, not alone in engaging in such practices and the emerging situation concerning citizens of Bangladeshi descent in Indian state of Assam may become another such example.31 Whether or not such actions do give rise to significant numbers of de jure stateless persons (as they have in the case of the Rohingya) is contingent on the laws and actions of other states (for example, Haiti in the case of the Dominican Republic); what is important about the case of the Dominican Republic is that due legal process was followed. Does it then represent an example of breach of the right not to be arbitrarily deprived of one’s nationality expressed in Article 15(2) of UNDHR—and one in which the norm against de jure statelessness is simply ignored with little in the way of effective constraint? The second example is that of individual denaturalisation—and my focus here will be on the return of denaturalization policies in the context of the ‘War on Terror’.32 This example is particularly salient to our concern because the impact of the enhanced protection of democracy and human rights within Western States in the second part of the 20th century on citizenship was profound and seemed to transform it from a privilege bestowed by a sovereign government on those who were worthy of it, into an entitlement of the sovereign citizen, whose status as such cannot be altered by the government.33 Thus, for example, Matthew Gibney notes: ‘By the end of the 20th century, deprivation power in the UK appeared to be moribund. By 2002, not a single individual had lost his or her citizenship (other than under fraud provisions) for 30 years’.34 It is just this apparent transformation that is challenged by the return of denationalisation policies within these ‘Western States’. As Audrey Macklin remarks: the force of Arendt’s ‘right to have rights’ aphorism may seem attenuated, at least with respect to liberal democratic states of the twenty first century. After all, permanent residents enjoy almost all the same rights as citizens, and even 29 Young (2017). Young (2017). 31 Khalid (2018). 32 For particularly important work, see Gibney (2013, 2014, 2017) as well as Macklin (2015). 33 Bauböck and Paskalev (2015), p. 50. 34 Gibney (2014), p. 330. 30 123