‘It makes me feel more British’: Muslims say religious diversity in the UK part of identity | Ramadan
On Friday morning, there was little space left at the Baitul Futuh mosque as thousands of people flocked to celebrate the end of the Islamic holy month of Ramadan.
The south London mosque, one of the largest in Europe, has offered a glimpse into the Eid al-Fitr celebrations celebrated by millions of Muslims across the UK. But this year, political anger around one of the most important holidays in the Islamic calendar has divided party leaders across the UK, sparked warnings about bigotry and left members of the public disturbed and frustrated.
Earlier this week, shadow justice secretary Nick Timothy claimed after a Ramadan event in London’s Trafalgar Square that Islamic prayers in public were frightening, un-British and an “act of domination”. Reform leader Nigel Farage described the incident, which has occurred five times without any previous incident or debate, as an attempt to “intimidate and dominate our way of life”.
Standing outside the mosque for Eid prayers, 22-year-old Taufique Ahmad said the “harsh and potentially harmful language” used against the community was “quite disturbing”.
“British identity is such a strong thing that it’s not so fragile that it fades away when you see a glimpse of diversity,” said Ahmad, a legal trainee and member of the mosque’s press team. “My British identity, at least, is so strong that if I see other communities practicing their faith openly and peacefully, it makes me feel more British.”
Politicians, legal experts and community leaders are increasingly warning that the Overton window (the range of ideas deemed acceptable in the mainstream population) regarding political discourse around identity, race and religion is changing.
Conservative party leader Kemi Badenoch said Timothy “defended British values”, while Keir Starmer claimed the party “had a problem with Muslims”. The prime minister’s attack on Wednesday was welcomed by members of the Muslim community who fear he has been singled out for political influence they say could cause real-world harm.
In a bid to combat unacceptable treatment, prejudice and discrimination against Muslims at a time when hate crimes are on the rise, the government has recently adopted a definition of anti-Muslim hostility.
This is the feeling Taahir Ahmad grew up with: “September 11 happened when I was a kid,” said the 35-year-old man, who went to see his mother after Friday prayers. “It was scary, I was the only brown kid in my school at the time and the kids blamed me for everything because they were kids and on top of that, it was a bit traumatic.”
Of the political rhetoric that has emerged this week, Ahmed said he believes the aim is to create chaos and division. If anything, he said, leaders should attend events and see how peaceful they are.
“If you target a particular ethnicity or religious group, you isolate them and what you’re trying to do is organize the public against those people,” said Ahmad, a broadcaster based in Morden.
“It’s a tactic, I understand that, it’s not welcomed, it’s not appreciated, but we’ve learned to live with it, we’ve learned to deal with it,” he added. “We are not as bad as the media or politicians portray us.”
Such perceptions also run counter to Michelle Rahman’s experience. As a British Muslim woman living in East London, she said the views of a few politicians were not the views of the public.
NHS worker Rahman, who is also a youth leader at the mosque, said: “We expect our politicians to bring unity in society, so how do I view that? I’m disappointed. But I don’t see that defining the UK.”
“This is not the opinion of the masses,” he added. “There’s a divide in society, and I see this as just one of those things, but it’s not really representative of the broader community.”
