Many of us have been alarmed by the violent thuggery shown by far-right groups and individuals over the last week in towns and cities across the UK. The trigger was the completely fabricated disinformation about the stabbing suspect of the brutal murder and attack on children at a dance club in Southport. As it turned out, it was a 17-year old local non-Muslim boy who carried out the act, and whose motive is as yet unknown. Prior to that, in the views expressed about the riots in Harehills, which had nothing to do with Muslims, there were some tell-tale signs of ratcheting-up discontent among far-right thugs and those on the right wing of politics. The expectant bias is quite palpable for the far right: anything bad happening is potentially an opportunity to make it into a refugee or a so called “Muslim takeover” issue.
Hate at this level is unprecedented in recent decades. It is upsetting and unsettling for many, from all backgrounds and walks of life. For some it brings back memories of growing up with racial slurs, physical abuse and threats. For others, who have never experienced any racism this level of hate and violence will be puzzling. There is a wide array of emotions, from anger to being afraid and so on.
But it’s not just the far-right where the problem exists. The inflammatory language and rhetoric used by politicians and opinion-makers (parts of the media) on immigration, integration, asylum and refugees in recent years has made things worse. Their use of dehumanising and inflammatory language has been co-opted by extremists and racists. For their part, the Conservative Government’s slogan, “Take back control of our borders” misguided millions of Britons into buying into the illusion of Brexit. Then came Sunak’s ironic liberalisation of the visa system allowing record numbers to enter Britain, while focusing on stopping boats and a Rwanda policy for asylum processing that was always unpractical and extraordinarily wasteful, at a cost of around £700m so far, as revealed by Yvette Cooper.
Questions are also being asked about the role of social media platforms, which are used to whip up frenzy of hate and echo-chambers of sheer nastiness. The Online Safety Act 2023, which risks being watered down in its implementation phase because of the lobbying power of giant companies like Google, Meta, TikTok and X, and a regulator in Ofcom and wider regulatory law that lacks experience in regulating big tech. Only time will tell how Ofcom will be able to deal with problems like stirring up racial hatred, and threatening and abusive behaviour on social media platforms.
One other destabilising factor more recently is the emergence of Reform as a political party that operates definitively on the right of politics with links to the far right. Coming third in the overall voter count in the General Election 2024, achieving 5 MPs in Parliament, and a formidable leader in Nigel Farage, Reform now has plenty going for it. It is an anti-immigration, English nationalist party that leverages anti-Muslim sentiment to garner support and significance.
The growing challenge posed by far right extremism has been well-documented, even in government departments. Sarah Khan, who’s been the Government’s counter-extremism commissioner under Theresa May and Boris Johnson, as well as independent adviser for social cohesion and resilience in Rishi Sunak’s Government, owned up to the failure of Government. She said, “All my reports have shown, in a nutshell that, firstly, these extremist and cohesion threats are worsening; secondly, that our country is woefully unprepared. We’ve got a gap in our legislation which is allowing these extremists to operate with impunity.”
With all these factors now converging, we now have a perfect storm of hate and violence against Britain’s Muslims (and ethnic minorities).
There is one other big problem area that has some role here: the prevalence of anti-Muslim prejudice in the UK. In a major study by More in Common, it found that whilst most Britons don’t hold anti-Muslim views, 30% strongly believe in at least one anti-Muslim stereotype, and 21% say they hold a negative view of Muslims. In other words, there is a very significant PR problem for Muslims. This is a big cohort of latent sentiment from which anti-Muslim movements, prejudice and more sinister discrimination in employment, housing, etc. can recruit from. It’s not surprising. I’ve been calling it out for a decade now. In other stats, over 90% of non-Muslims have never been inside a mosque. In another study by Theos (a Christian think tank), it found 12% of the UK’s population are what it calls “Campaigning Nones” who are staunchly atheist and actively speak out against religion.
Against these headwinds, Muslims haven’t pushed back from identifying themselves solely as “Muslims,” artificially bringing their faith into sharp focus, even though faith doesn’t necessarily have much influence on them or how they engage in wider society. Moreover, meaningful intercultural exchange (gatherings in homes, forming mutual associations outside of work etc.) between Muslims and different sections of British society has been hard to come by. The art of khidma (service) and winning hearts of minds have become reduced to charity work, the park run to raise money for a cause and so on. To tackle this PR challenge effectively, it was essential to move beyond the usual post-colonial mindset of blaming white people, criticizing politicians or media figures, or adopting a grievance-driven attitude. Instead, a more fitting approach for those who identify as Muslims would have been to set aside preconceived notions and first seek guidance in God’s revelation.
In recent weeks, I’ve often found myself reminding fellow Muslims that “Muslim” isn’t just a noun – it’s very closely linked to verbs. Being Muslim is not just about identifying with a label; it’s about living out that identity through actions and practices that align with God’s guidance. When we engage in behaviours that are not permitted in Islam, we’re not embodying what it means to be Muslim. And being Muslim to whom? The term “Muslim” is not an ethnographic label yet this is how it is now predominantly used in the public; it only holds meaning when our actions are Muslim to God. The more we disconnect our actions from God, the more we face an even more complex public relations challenge. When faith is reduced to a mere identity, any contradictions between that identity and our actions can easily reinforce existing biases and prejudices against Muslims and Islam. If our Muslimness becomes a superficial label rather than a lived reality, we can hardly be surprised when negative perceptions arise.
And so, the negative views of Muslims exists, in one sense, because of our lack of outreach and conveying Islam meaningfully and authoritatively. Even our mosques – which have become the focal points of far right outrage, are highly insular places. If you look at large online Muslim media outlets, we can quickly conclude that they are on the main equivalent to the Daily Mail but with Muslim operators. Like the Daily Mail, they are about click bait, reach, and identity politics. The journalism within them is not the standard one can reasonably expect of believers. In fact, most of the journalists have poor religious literacy and even little know-how about political theology.
Moreover, if we examine how we do Islam in the UK, we can see that we have cut and pasted into the UK the Islam of the 1980s and 90s from the countries of our grandparents (mainly South Asia), in what I term “Ethnocentric religion.” Such ethnocentric practice of Islam has hindered its adaptation, contextualisation and indigenisation in the British Isles.
The lack of a deeper understanding of Islam among many British Muslims has led them to uncritically accept the APPG on British Muslims’ proposed definition of Islamophobia. What many don’t realise is that this definition subtly secularises the concept of “Muslim” itself. Moreover, it reflects an overconfident approach, as if a single definition could address the full spectrum of grievances Muslims might face in society. This grandiose attempt to solve complex social issues with a one-size-fits-all definition overlooks the nuanced and multifaceted nature of social cohesion challenges, including giving indemnity to the idea that Muslimness in whatever form it manifests in British Muslims is inherently above criticism and judgement.
Only a few weeks ago during the general election campaign many Muslims encouraged other Muslims to only vote independent Muslim candidates, and ratcheted up the politics of division and “them and us” rhetoric. Such Muslims cling onto a very narrow (divisive and unwelcoming) definition of ummah. Such viewpoints are completely oblivious of the Prophetic model of ummah in the Medinan society nor does it account for God referencing “Qawm” as a location-based community of believers and non-believers. Yet, we claim to be otherised by British society, excluded and marginalised by the 21% that holds some negative views of Muslims.
I witnessed all of this first hand in Luton, which led me to caution, “Now is the time to build allies, not punish Labour.” And now, we’ve come full circle. The far-right thuggery has had a humbling effect on many Muslims who, during the election, were quick to indulge in hubris, grandiosity, and posturing. Now, there’s a penny dropping recognition of the need for collaboration and engagement, building bridges, making friends and allies, and the wisdom in separating our disagreements from the greater good we all seek to achieve.
