Thursday, 17 of May of 2012

Category » Muslim News

Time for a Womelution

The Muslim community needs to make a quantum leap in addressing the issues of gender roles, gender worth, and gender relations, and so this week I am declaring a ‘womelution’.

The debate about Islam, women and rights seems to have reached a dead end. We are stuck, all of us together – Muslim and otherwise – in a groundhog day regurgitation of the same arguments about women and Islam. It’s all talk with few new ideas and intellectual works being produced, little social change happening, and Muslims still not facing up to the fact that we need to address the subject of gender. We must reject this status of ’stuck’. Stuck, is no longer an option. God does not change the state of a people until they change it themselves.

We must also reject the notion of ‘fixing women’. Fixing women, doesn’t fix the problem. Let’s replace the issue of ‘women’ with a debate about women and men. After all, God does say He created human beings in pairs.

What we need is for men and women to work together so that we can make substantive change and real improvements. What we need are open hearts and inquisitive minds so that we can make a positive move forward. What we need, is a womelution.

Inspired by women, but for both men as well as women, the womelution is positive, engaging, creative and forward-looking. This is not a bloody revolution, but looks inside all traditions and heritages, to both genders, to all ages and multifarious ethnicities and languages.

The womelution is about making real change: intellectual change but most importantly, real social change. It is characterised by compassion, humanity and humour and most of all by respect. It is not about women versus men, but about being on the same side, creating the best for everyone. It is rooted in Islam and its foundations are within the Muslim conception of the world. Its premise is that Islam has more to offer than it is currently given credit for, and it has a blueprint that can contribute to humanity in general. The womelution encourages questioning, respectful challenging and constructive criticism.

1. We need to re-ignite the tradition of intellectual debate

We need new thinking and output that moves forward Islamic scholarship on the issues of gender. The world has changed and we need to face up to that. We must ask challenging questions – but with respect and within the spirit and ethos of the Qur’an and the teachings of the Prophet. Every time we look at the words of the Qur’an we are advised that they will reveal something new. In the same way, when every new generation looks at Qur’anic verses and the Prophetic traditions it will be through new lenses.

In 2008, I invite every Muslim scholar, every Imam, and academic to tackle the issues around Islam and gender. It can be in the shape of a theological discourse, or a social reform, small or large, but it must offer something new and positive that leads to real change.

2. Communal spaces, particularly mosques, need to re-balance gender participation

Although a womelution is about both men and women, it is undoubted that in some areas – such as those of mosques and other public forums – getting women involved is the first priority. This will benefit both men and women. Those mosques or community centres which currently have no space for women need to create areas for women and start engaging with them. The many mosques where women are already actively involved need to make sure that there is at least one woman who is on the management or executive committee of that mosque or centre, and that she has actual authority and empowerment vested in her.

Let 2008 be the year for asking questions and offering answers about how men and women should share mosques and community spaces, and when every single mosque up and down the UK succeeds in appointing a woman into an official position.

3. Women must themselves actively pursue improvement and change – for the sake of society as a whole

Men need to open hearts, minds and doors, but women must also grasp the mettle and engage in change. It can and will be difficult and will feel uncomfortable. Both men and women need to understand that women must participate to create a successful community. Women have new perspectives and approaches, and will bring forward issues that have not yet been addressed. Women will double the resources, brains and energies at the disposal of the Muslim community.

4. Change must be based on addressing the needs of both men and women

What are the traditional gender roles that we are upholding? How do men and women currently interact, how are responsibilities distributed, and are these rooted in culture or faith? Once we’ve asked these questions we need to assess: what should be our definitions of gender roles and what should be our notions of gender worth? We don’t live in a traditional world anymore. It is worth remembering that the greatest failing of the community of the Prophet Abraham was that they did what their fathers and forefathers before them did without questioning it.

The biggest social and practical issue facing us today though, is that of gender relations – how should men and women relate to each other, and how do we implement personal law? Muslim women have become the bastions for maintaining and regulating gender relations. The concepts of hijab, niqab and segregation have been confused with the real concept of modesty in etiquette, behaviour and personal relationships. What does modesty really mean? What is its role in Muslim society, how should both men and women practice it, and how should it regulate the world of gender relations?

5. Confidence, compassion and curiosity are the values that will drive positive change

It’s time also to put paid to the frankly silly but insidious suggestions that Muslims are alien to Britain. Muslims must be confident in themselves, in their Islam and in living in Britain. We must have curiosity and confidence in asking questions to make the lives better of everyone around us – Muslim and otherwise. It also requires compassion and empathy for our neighbours which, of course, comes with the right to be treated with respect and love in return.

This year should be the beginning of a womelution, a marked change in the tempo and confidence of the Muslim community, with a particular focus on gender. We will need vision and creativity and to be positive and work together. This is the only way that we will move forward.

And if you’re still confused, it’s pronounced wi-mah-lou-shun.

P.S. We also need a little inspiration and some humour. As my own personal contribution, I dedicate four Superhero characters, which you will find on my blog www.spirit21.co.uk/magicmuslims

This article was recently published in The Muslim News


Social cohesion not gender confusion

The government’s latest announcement about funding for Muslim women to help curb terrorism confuses social cohesion with extremism, and it also forgets that women cannot single-handedly solve our social ills.

Apparently, we’re not very assertive. And apparently, we need the government’s help. And apparently, some training courses are going to solve the problem. Thus spake the government when announcing that they would help us Muslim women to stop extremism. By going on some courses. Once we’ve been suitably trained, we’ll go on to spy on our kids, create community cohesion, and curb terror. We’ll then stop for afternoon tea. After dunking our digestives in our chai, we’ll reverse global warming and achieve world peace. Muslim women will save the day! (I know we’re good, really really good, but I’m not sure we’re superhuman!)

Please don’t misunderstand me – the initiatives announced by the government, in and of themselves, are good projects. Women do need more support, they are a fundamental building block of the community, they do need more attention. So bring on the training, bring on the resources, bring on the focus.

The projects proposed by the Department of Communities and Local Government are much needed. The communities in question, and the women that form part of them very much need this support. But why is investment in Muslim communities and in Muslim women about terror rather than social improvement? The very distinct line between extremism and social cohesion has become dangerously blurred – and the government must be called to account on this distortion.

Muslim voices are denigrated when they complain about ’spying’, ‘interference’ and state-sanitised and approved religion. The wailing chorus is because ‘Moozlim problems’ are categorised as problems of extremism and terror and are dealt with as such, rather than being addressed as the social and economic problems of unemployment, access, education and opportunity that they are. Government resources are required to get to grips with deep social issues, as a problem to solve in themselves. Extremism and terror need to be tackled in and of themselves as well. But solving terrorism can’t masquerade under the guise of social reform. The two must not be conflated.

When it comes to the specific question of investing in women, yes women – just like men – need to be involved in facing down the criminals that bring extremism and death to our streets. But we’re falling into the usual trap of gender play-offs. If it doesn’t work with the men, go onto the women? Try one, then the other? The government is beginning to sound like a deeply traditional mosque, or the feminist movement, by dealing with people (in this case Muslims) as two distinct species – male or female – who apparently have little or no overlap. Women can’t do it alone, so don’t set us up to fail.

Women are not, and should not be a separate project, an afterthought, a curiosity. This is an obstacle to creating a socially cohesive and balanced society. Muslim societies (just like European ones) are very guilty of this problem of falling foul to treating men and women as two separate mutually exclusive entities. But the government seems to be equally guilty. Building projects and goals on such shaky gender foundations may yield short term benefits, but it is predicated on a model of social interaction that is flawed. Men and women are not separate, independent, unrelated. It takes two halves to build a whole.

In the Muslim world, the longstanding focus of the debate on social relations between the genders has been on establishing the limits and boundaries of Islamic law. By focusing this debate simply on the specifics of the boundaries of Islamic law it reinforces the exclusion and separation of women from society in general. By talking about “women’s rights”, the whole area becomes a sub topic. In the same way, talking about women bearing the brunt of the responsibility to curb terror detracts from the responsibilities of the social whole.

To put it simply, it is a mistake to consider men on the one hand, and women on the other hand, in isolation from each other, because at every step we are connected to each other. The Islamic model of gender relations describes the equality of men and women as “created from one soul” as well as their interconnectedness and balance “you may find peace and tranquillity in each other”.

The Quran explains, “It is He who brought you into being from a single soul”. From the very source of the human being, both men and women have the same value, being created from the same beginning. In the Quranic model, women and men are linked right from the beginning and their source is of the same value, they share the same unity.

The whole area of gender rights and gender relations is very sensitive, and one of the areas of particular sensitivity is around the concept of ‘equality.’ By referring to a society of two equal and balanced halves, the reference is to being equal in value and participation, with no other connotation. And this meaning is quite clear in the verse of the Quran that locates men and women as created from one soul.

The issue is that women are not being given the opportunity to contribute their value. The government funding should help in a small way to address this – but only if it is aimed at improving the status quo, not as a means to the totally separate goal of dealing with extremism.

The Islamic model of the two genders as two halves of a whole, is a reflection of the fundamental Islamic concept of Tawheed. This central doctrine can be further explored by looking at the attributes of the Creator, who has names which represent His Jalaal – majesty, and other names which represent His Jamaal – His beauty. For every Muslim, these are both an undeniable part of Tawheed. Then if man and woman are created from a single soul, then are they not simply a reflection of the attributes of Jalaal and Jamaal, of the masculine and feminine attributes of Allah? In which case, how can the two ever be separated? And further, are not both together required to complete the unity?

The discussion should then not be on “men’s rights” or “women’s rights” but on the rights of the human being, and the respect for each other as human beings. Perhaps the problem is that we do not see the potential of each other as fulfilling the divine in everyday life.

The Quran is explicit in saying that Allah has created pairs for us that we may find peace and tranquillity in each other. This verse is usually quoted the context of two individuals getting married. But instead of simply looking at this at an individual level of one man and one woman, we can extrapolate it and create a model of social harmony – that women and men are a pair and need to work together in order that society is peaceful and tranquil.

What will be the key factors in shaping an environment which will be successful in creating a balanced whole with productive participation from both genders? We shouldn’t be drawn into playing the genders off against each other. It is totally appropriate to identify the unique needs of each gender and to address them as part of a holistic approach to solving problems and improving society. It is not appropriate to favour one gender, and punish the other for seeming failure. That would be like holding your hand over one eye to try to see the whole world in three-dimensional glory. Unfortunately, by confusing extremism with social cohesion, and by holding women alone up as social saviours, the government is in grave danger of creating a one-eyed bumbling monster.

This article was published recently in The Muslim News


Whose body is it anyway?

Christian and secular art have at least one thing in common – they like to have people in them. Christian religious art is brought to life with representations of the personalities that populate Christian history. From high art produced by the great masters, to local churches, the artistic interpretation of Christ and other figures opens the door to discussion about the spirituality conveyed. Body, whether through direct representation or iconography, is the gateway to the spiritual meaning of these works, and it feeds from the Christian idea that the incarnation of Christ connects human beings to the Divine through the body of Christ.

Islamic aesthetic principles find the body an alien impostor to spiritual aspiration. God has no incarnation, cannot be defined in bodily terms, nor has location, size, shape or gender. The Divine is found in the abstract and undepictable territories of the inner heart, and is manifested in the geometric perfections and multiplicities of both art and nature.

From a Christian European perspective, the body is uncomfortably absent from public Muslim life. Calligraphy and geometric art are used to transcend into the domain of the spiritual – human beings are not usually depicted. Even people seem to lack bodies in the public arena, with women tucked neatly under headscarves and men in looser shirts and full length trousers. Muslim heritage rejects the body being a public billboard. Instead, it is to be celebrated and shared only in private, retained for personal and family interactions and for the pleasures of intimacy. This is one of the fundamental reasons Muslim women wear the hijab: to be valued for who you are, not what you look like. Muslims, in this sense, are simply exercising their very modern right to privacy.

Today’s secular gods of consumerism and self indulgent gluttony, of beauty, youth and immortality, have their roots in the same Greco-Roman heritage that Christian art draws upon. Secular art, which is offered up to its own gods show us sculpted bodies that meet our contemporary ideals of bodily perfection. It idolises the oxymoron of super-slim yet ultra-curvy women, the sparkling white of pristine teeth that have gorged on chocolate – a modern day food for the gods – or the tough muscular six-pack man in the age of longer working hours and high alcohol consumption. Image is the ultimate altar to worship at. One men’s clothing chain ran an advertising campaign last year using simply the words: “Looks aren’t important. They are everything.” Body is the ultimate god, and fashion designers are its disciples.

The body is thus the fulcrum for public debate, expression and attitudes. What happens when the body is not available as the yardstick? Is the response to see women who wear the hijab as ‘withholding’ themselves from the public space, and to consider that inflammatory? The privacy of the body for Muslims means it is entirely natural for Muslim women not to shake hands with a man, but the role of body in social interaction through a European lens means it is highly unnatural not to. There is no quick fix to resolving these different perspectives, because they stem from deeply ingrained attitudes and perspectives. Intensive communication and understanding hold the only keys.

We are told that the body is public, but faith should be private. But if faith is about aligning your entire being towards a better way of being, then the body is de facto part of that. In the religious domain we focus on the body of Christ, in the secular it is the flesh of supermodels. In both cases, the body is a public canvas, a forum for discussion. The personal is public, and the public is political except, ironically, when it comes to using our own bodies to express faith. Faith, as an exception to everything else, is a private matter, we are told, separated from public life and to be left at home. It seems we are at cross purposes. Modernity protects our right to privacy, but this privacy does not seem to extend to the body.

This article was published in The Muslim News


Not in My Name

We’re not responsible for the behaviour of all Muslims, so why are we constantly berated for what happens abroad?

When I recently read the story of a 19-year-old Saudi woman who was gang-raped 14 times in an attack in Qatif, in the eastern province of the country, a year-and-a-half ago, I felt nauseous. I was disgusted. But not as horrified and angry as I felt when I read that along with the sentences for the perpetrators, the victim had also been sentenced to 90 lashes for breaking the Saudi rule that men and women who are not related should not be together. The victim claims she was not alone with any man but had in fact been abducted from a public place. When her lawyer protested that the sentences against the seven men were too lenient, and she went to the media, the presiding judge did increase the men’s sentences slightly (from one to five years, up to two to nine years) but also increased her sentence to 200 lashes. The lawyer’s right to practice is also being revoked.

I searched the news feeds to see if I had missed some key fact, mis-read the story, over-looked any shreds of humanity, compassion or justice. I found none. And so, for the first time – as I wrote on my blog about this incident – I found myself writing the words, Not In My Name.

I wrote these words as a human being disgusted that another person could punish further the victim of a multiple rape. But I realised that I also wrote these words as a Muslim. The ruling in Saudi Arabia was not to do with me, or my faith.

After the bombings of July 7th I had heated debates about whether I wanted to support campaigns that Muslims were organising under this very strapline of Not in My Name. I felt at the time that such a campaign would support reverse logic: by saying that the horrific attacks were not to do with me, I was indicating that somehow I was indeed responsible and related in my values to the bombers. I felt as though I was being asked to admit guilt and responsibility, where neither were appropriate. I was not responsible for what they did. What those men did, and others like them, is not from my understanding of my faith. It does not come from the core values of Islam. I asked myself, why should I feel the need to create an anti-connection to these men, if I was rejecting the very premises of their violent views? I condemn utterly what they have done.

My rejection and disgust at the bombings was the same horror as that of the British people. I shared the nation’s grief as a human being. In this I was not distinguished from my neighbours by colour or creed. The mourning and distress of Britain, was my own mourning and distress. I felt no need to claim special status, responsibility or special distinction.

In the matter of the Saudi woman, however, there was no mourning, no outcry, no public grief. Therefore, I felt the need to make the declaration that this act had no truth, justice or compassion. The values of my humanity and my Islam were betrayed. The decision was made by those supposedly in authority, those who claimed special rank in showing what Islam should be. The Saudi courts who made this horrific ruling had not rejected authority, they were not attacking establishment – they were claiming in fact to be the authority and they were the establishment. How could I do anything BUT state that this authority and this decision was Not in My Name?

It is a given fact that I am not accountable for what another individual does. This is a basic premise of British law as well as Islamic belief. We only have a responsibility for our own actions. Neither do I have direct accountability for what happens in Muslim countries abroad. I’m fed up of being told I am to blame for what happens elsewhere in the world. I’m frustrated that as a nation, we have a discourse that says that just because there are problems – serious problems – in many Muslim countries with regards to human rights, religious practice and tolerance, then that means Muslims here are responsible for that, and that people of faith, including Muslims, should be denied rights here. Again, it is reverse logic. Why should our behaviour as a nation, be governed by the values of others? That only brings us down to the lowest common denominator. As a sovereign nation we should lead by example. By we’ (in case I need to spell it out) I mean Britain. And that includes Muslims as an inherent part of the British people. Our actions should be rooted in truth, justice and compassion. They can never be contingent on the behaviour of others. As a nation we can only be responsible for the way we act, and we can only be accountable for our actions in the international community.

What is incumbent on me is to be a good citizen of my own nation, and to uphold truth, justice and compassion here in our land. I must assess and recognise what is right and wrong on its own merit, not based on who is saying it. My duty is to create the best society where I am, and that duty applies to those of all faiths and none.

As Muslims we need to be clear that just because a government or an individual that carries out an action claims to be Islamic or Muslim, that does not mean it is inherently right. If an action is carried out, or an opinion held by those of other faiths (or none), that does not make it inherently wrong. Locate the truth first, then see who is saying it, stated the Prophet Muhammed.

My actions should not be contingent on what someone else does. They should be rooted in what is right and what is wrong. At the end of the day, I am only accountable for my own actions, but that also means that I am responsible for my own actions irrespective of how other people act and behave. The case of Holocaust Memorial Day is illustrative. The organisers state that the aim of the day is to “motivate people individually and collectively, to ensure that the horrendous crimes, racism and victimisation committed during the Holocaust and more recent genocides are neither forgotten nor repeated, whether in Europe or elsewhere in the world.”

I wholeheartedly support this objective. I believe that as a Muslim, as a person of faith, as a human being, it is my duty to remember all innocents who have been killed, and to offer my condolences and in this case, I offer my condolences and mourn those millions that were specifically lost in the holocaust. Never again, has to be our pledge.

Many people ask, if these are the aims, then why is this not a genocide memorial day? They rightly say, have not people all around the world suffered brutal massacre and persecution? I firmly believe that the international scale and horror of genocide does indeed need to be recognised, and that it is now time that we should have a separate day to mark that. But on this one particular day, we remember these particular innocents: those who were killed in the holocaust.

Every human life is equally valuable and I must recognise it as such, wherever or whenever it is lost. My action in remembering, and vowing that it should not happen again, is not contingent on the motives or responses of others. I carry out this action because it is inherently right.

Our decisions must be informed by truth, justice and compassion, and these decisions must direct our actions. If we make our actions contingent on the behaviour of others, then we all find that our humanity is compromised.

Assessing independently what is the right thing to do, is no easy task. That choice is just as difficult whether it is in the context of being a nation, or an individual. When our humanity is compromised then it is the responsibility of all of us, together, to state that this is Not In Our Name.

This article was recently published in The Muslim News

Update on Saudi case: the woman in question has ‘confessed’ that she was having an affair with the man in question. This ‘confession’ has come subsequently to the outcry over this case


Passive followers are just as responsible as bad leaders

The crisis of leadership in the Muslim community is also a crisis of followership. Leaders and followers both need to understand the etiquette of exercising their duties

One of my favourite stories from the Qur’an is the tale of the Prophet Ibrahim, known also in the Bible, as Abraham. He always struck me as a deeply discerning character, who found truth in the simplest and clearest ways.

Ibrahim watches the sun rise, and like his contemporaries considers whether it might be the lord of the worlds. As the sun sets and disappears to nothingness and oblivion, he concludes that it cannot be the Almighty. He watches the moon rise and set in the same way, and reasons that it too cannot be the Creator for the same reason. He concludes that the true Creator must be far greater, that the true Divine is one that must have created all these things that people believe wrongly believe are gods. Ibrahim declares that he is not of those who believe in many gods.

As a person of faith, this narrative strikes us as simple and obvious. Yet it does not seem so obvious to his peers. How is it that they cannot see the truth in front of their noses? The facts are so clear, we cry, waving our fists fervently at the verses recounting this inexplicable inability to see the truth.

When Ibrahim challenges his uncle – ironically, a man who carves idols – about how he can believe in all these gods, especially those who he himself has created, the answer is one that makes me stop dead in my tracks. For me, the uncle’s response is one of the most telling and yet least pondered on in the whole Qur’an.

His answer offers us insight into the painful modern tensions of culture and faith, the thorny yet fundamental issues of leadership and direction, the stunting reluctance to admit the need for change. In ordinary lay terms, the man immortalised in the Qur’an shows us how drawing from misplaced authority can result in fatal and devastating consequences. To me, the response is a clear statement of the fact that blind following and literalism is a debilitating phenomenon of the human condition, and one which we continue to be crippled by today.

Ibrahim is a cheeky chappy, and one whom I admire for his ironic audacity, all of which are qualities in which we are severely deficient today. In engaging and challenging authority he uses a certain charm, and a well-defined adab, etiquette. He chops the heads off all the idols which the local community worship, except for the chief idol, and then places the axe on the shoulder of the chief. When he is challenged by the local leaders, he smiles wryly and says, why don’t you ask the chief idol, he’s the one with the axe. Cue cartoon steam flaring out of the leaders’ ears and much communal anger at this anti-establishment upstart. Again, the truth of Ibrahim’s narrative is obvious. The anger of the leaders is based on the simplicity of his exposition of the truth. They can see, yet they are blind. And what is the answer as to why they continue to believe?

“Because our fathers, and their fathers used to do this.”

In our ringside seats at this historical debacle we jump up and down screaming, do you not have your own brains to reflect? Is it not possible, even obvious, that your fathers were wrong? Have you not derived the authority for your actions from an incorrect source? Ibrahim’s gentle humour and irony force his community leaders to engage in dialogue and respond to their followers.

Stop for a moment and reflect. We are in the same situation. Muslim communities and mosques are upholding traditions because this is what our fathers used to. Women treated as inferior beings, not permitted in mosques or on mosque committees? Like our fathers… Imams preaching in languages other than English? Like our fathers… Marriages and matches based on caste and family rather than compatibility and choice… like our fathers…

But ‘fathers’ is also metaphoric, referring not just to those who precede, but also those to whom we give authority. And here, exactly here, are the Big Questions for the Muslim community. Who should have authority? What should be the nature of the relationship between leaders and followers? Most critically in what manner should followers engage with those in authority?

Those in authority should fully expect to be kept on their toes. They earn their stripes by engaging with those who challenge. They must show leadership through creating dialogue. Those leaders who insist on broadcast monologue and who cannot hear the questioning, enquiring, even challenging voices do not bear out the qualities required in a Muslim leader. Leadership in the worldly sphere is consensual. Even the Prophet asked his people “Is it not that I have authority over you?” Only when they replied “But of course you do!” did he proceed with offering them further direction. This is the etiquette of the leader.

Our leaders need to address these fundamental requirements. Communication – both in language as well as style and format – is critical. Being forward thinking and visionary in order to lead by example are also fundamental. Being open to new challenges, ideas and situations is also key. Underpinning all these is the concept of dialogue. Authority, like respect and trust, has to be gained, not simply asserted through history, culture or shouting loudest.

The Muslim communities are indeed in a leadership crisis. What this means is that we are also in a crisis of followership, because the relationship between leaders and followers is a symbiotic one. We abandon our responsibilities as followers and then whine when we are not happy with leaders. If we complain that we don’t have the right leaders, it is because we don’t know how to exercise our duties as good followers.

Good followers know when to challenge, but more importantly they know how to challenge. Healthy enquiry does not require mass anarchy and rebellion, but it does keep leaders on their toes. After all, the Prophet was often asked ‘why’, and the Qur’an is constantly referring to those who believe as people who ‘think’, ‘reflect’ and ‘ponder’, all qualities of a questioning mind.

Ibrahim does not raise his voice to his community leaders and shout them down, telling them brutally that they are outdated and engaged in shirk, polytheism. He does not call them names and humiliate them in public, asserting that they are wrong, and only he is right (even though in his case he actually is). Rather, with his uncle he uses gentle discussion and compassion, and even goes on to pray to Allah for him. With the community leaders he does not enter a slanging match but rather uses humour and patience in exposing the falsity of their idol worship. Even the Prophet spends forty years building relations with the community before even saying a word about the One God and the deen of Islam. And when he does start to spread the word he invites the leaders of the tribe to share a meal at his house.

We have forgotten that Islam was a challenger, an outsider that came to confront establishment. It brought revolutionary ideas – the equality of human beings, the rights of women, the unity of God, the peaceful co-existence of tribes and nations. It met with resistance from leaders because it challenged the status quo. Islam grew because as a challenger, its style and etiquette was based on the wisdom of manners. Courtesy, compassion and patience were its foundations.

The challenge for Muslims today is to discern to whom they should give authority, and to engage in constant dialogue with them, with the right Islamic etiquette. The leader must understand that gone are the days for monologues and silent obedience, and now is the time for interaction and engagement. Leaders must expect this and encourage it. The follower must understand that questioning and challenging are a duty, but must not to be engaged in with hostility and rebellion, but with enthusiasm for improvement and aspiration for the truth.

Ibrahim is asked to sacrifice his son at the command of God, to prove that he is willing to give up what he loves most. God replaces the intended victim with a sheep, a creature known for following blindly and unthinkingly. The choice of Ibrahim is always before us: to assess truth on its own merits irrespective of mass opinion, culture and history or to suffer the consequences of unquestioning and unthinking followership.

Recently published in The Muslim News


Five Things I Love About Being a British Muslim Woman

Who would have thought that there could be plenty to love about being a British Muslim Woman? …

The media is smitten with bringing us bad news. It creates villains and demons and tells us the worst about humanity. And it does this in particular when it comes to Muslims, and oh-so-extra-specially when it is about Muslim women.


“Poor, oppressed, miserable, battered Muslim women!” cry the media harpies. They take lustful pleasure in oppression of their own kind, by misrepresenting us, by stifling our voices, by denying us our identities. “It cannot be that you love being Muslim!” say the politico-journo-lobbyist voices. “You must not partake of Britain and its values,” say the Muslim voices that also try to own us. In true British style I say to all these voices, two fingers! I follow this embarrassing slip of emotion by a further display of British Muslim style which means I blush at the brazenness of that gesture.


I’m here to set the record straight. I like being a British Muslim Woman. In fact, I love it. Ol’ Blighty is the place of my birth, and I am very much a child of the empire, my origins being in the far flung reaches of the reign on which the sun never set. Like all good British Muslim women, I love a good gossip, and a good moan. I am careful not to talk to people on the underground (except in a crisis). I talk about the whether and traffic in immense detail. I love fish and chips, with lots of vinegar. I am love-struck with the Britishness that venerates Stonehenge, despite its toy-sized pebbles when compared to the great wonders of the ancient world. I am besotted by the fact that we haven’t won the world cup for forty years, and yet we are adamant that we will certainly win the next time we play. Hurrah for being a British Muslim Woman!


I can make the world a better place

Prophet Abraham was thrown onto a large fire when he challenged the establishment. Miraculously the fire didn’t burn him. He was, quite literally, cool about it. Nor was his ardour to pursue the truth diminished. This Islamic parable of the fire makes me aspire to be a British Muslim woman Abraham. I too want to be a good citizen in the best of British and Muslim traditions. I too want to gather the courage to challenge what is wrong with the status quo. Despite the enormity of Abraham’s fire, little ants ferried drops of water in their mouths to try and put out the blaze. They didn’t expect to solve the crisis alone, but they wanted to do their bit. I desire to be a British Muslim woman who can also do her bit, who can make a contribution to the society I live in.

Despite my disagreements with the political views of the government, I am enamoured of the fact that I can protest about their loathsome views. I won’t get arrested for lobbying, demonstrating, writing about my views or speaking out. Whether we Brits always live up to our values of fair play and justice is one thing, but I’m proud that as a nation we at least aspire to them.


The very best of British however, is being able to challenge stereotypes and having the opportunity to make Britain a better place. When Britain closes its eyes and its heart as it seems to be doing in understanding the issues of Muslims and of women, it is a disappointing and dark place to be. But Being British means I have hope that we can make this a great nation. Being in a country where I can have the good fight, and be proud that I am doing my duty as a citizen is why I love being here.


Pink hijabs are a fashion possibility…

… as are green ones, black ones, yellow ones or even Union Jack hijabs. As a Muslim woman living in Britain, I am joyful that I have choice to dress modestly, and that I can exercise that choice. I like the fact that hijab is a word that transcends into British culture. I am quietly proud to have a faith which is constructed around respecting my personality and my individuality rather than my vital statistics. It gives me pleasure to say that I have not replaced the corsets of yore, with the breast enhancements and liposuction of today.

My personality harbours a desire (like most women) to express myself through what I wear. I don’t want to dress anonymously in black or grey. I like it that Britain is a place that gives me the space and creativity to express myself aesthetically.


Being superhuman is a choice, not an obligation

I admit that I’d like to have it all – career, family, fashion, fitness, domestic utopia and corporate success. I want to be perfectly attired, cook food that puts Delia to shame, and burn the dragons in their own den. The reality of being a woman means I’m likely to suffer discrimination in the workplace, be paid less than my male counterparts, and bear the weight of domestic duties and childcare.

Being Muslim gives me a new perspective – I can choose to have it all, but I don’t have to have it all in order to be validated. But I retain the choice to try everything. My loyalties to the sisterhood, both Muslim and in wider society, mean that I share the pressures, pains and desires, and I too want to make life for women better. I too want to make society a more equitable place.


Diversity is a celebration of more than just food

Chicken Tikka Masala is the national dish now, and stir-fry noodles and hummus are not far behind. As a nation we love sampling food from other cultures and incorporating them into our cuisine. But diversity encompasses more than that. Multiculturalism celebrates cultures and respects them by understanding the equal value they offer. I am smitten with the principles of diversity that Britain has been trying to uphold, and have felt that sinking feeling with recent talk about belittling other cultures.

As a Muslim I support the principles of diversity, being expressed in the Qur’an with the words that “All human beings were created as tribes and nations so that you may know one another.” Trying to live by the principle that we should respect others for who they are, not where they come from or what they look like stems from all parts of my British Muslim woman’s identity. We don’t always hit the bullseye with our policies, but at least we know where we are aiming.

My faith and my country push me to be a better person

I’m constantly challenged by my faith to improve. External standards do that – they pull you up and make you face the depths of your weaknesses. Religion is about thinking of others, fighting your childlike tantrums and greed to be free and happy in spirit, and to make those around us live better lives too. That’s what our beloved “Land of Hope and Glory” does as well. In case you’ve forgotten the lyrics of this erstwhile national anthem, it refers to the nation as “Mother of the Free”, an acknowledgement to us lovely ladies that keep the nation going, if ever I heard one. “Truth and Right and Freedom, each a holy gem,” proclaims the song further. Such words are rousing to the heart, and if we dig deep into the essence of Britain, and what it truly means to be British, we will push ourselves to regain these values and make ourselves better people.

I can be sure that there will be people who feel sorry for the delusions they will claim I suffer from being proud to be a Muslim woman. And I am even more certain that there are those who will tell me that it is shameful for me to be proud of being British. “How can you be proud of a country that attacks the Muslim nations and kills innocent Muslims,” they will reproach me ardently.

The following I say to all of you. All human societies have their strengths as well as their failings, whether they be Muslim societies or otherwise. It is my duty as a British citizen, and it is my responsibility as a Muslim woman to try and make the place I live in a better place. If I can practice my faith as I have understood it, if I can contribute to society and try to improve it, if I can express myself in that society so that I can be who I am and pursue my dreams, then that is a society that I can be proud of. My society may not be perfect, but I will support its aspiration to be a better place.


ASBOs and terrorism: the problems of bombs, beer and bling

A man was recently stabbed to death for standing up to a gang of aggressive young men who were throwing rubbish into his car. Another was murdered when he came out of his house to ask some young men to quieten down while he tried to sleep for an early morning start. Two teenagers have been charged. Binge drinking, and in particular under-age drinking and related violence is on the rise. Violence instigated by young women is increasing too. The police say that they have to change their working hours to accommodate the late night violence and youth crime. The government’s solution? Slap an anti-social behaviour tag on the perpetrators – this is just labelling the problem, but not addressing the causes.

Where is this intense aggression coming from? Why do young people feel so angry, why so little concern for tolerance of those around them? Where is the sense of community and honour that used to bind people together and create a framework for social interaction? Where are the aspirations, direction and connections that are needed to fill the void that is possessing youth? It is being filled with anger, despair and destruction. The disaffected generation of the turn of the century takes pride in creating havoc and distress.

We’ve heard a cry in recent days that young black men need better role models, people who can offer them different options other than rapping, violence and drug dealing. Success is material and ephemeral. Expensive outfits and outrageous jewellery along with angry lyrics and a gun are the leitmotifs. Clothes, bling and attitude maketh the man in the 21st century. The only thing in reach is the aggressive attitude, everything else is beyond their touch through legitimate means. The world that they see before them seems so appealing, so idyllic and so out of their reach, and they have nothing else on which to model their ambitions and drive them forward. They follow the lead of those who seem to have the answers – those glamorising gun crime and violence.

Young Muslims are just as disaffected. They too suffer from the same malaise as their peers. Why should they be any different? The world around them has little meaning to them, and there appears to be no way to change it. They see and experience discrimination, they are ostracised from being British, despite the fact that they identify themselves as such. Media and political rhetoric tells Muslims they must ‘fit in’ and do it ‘their’ way or go back home. But this is home, for the young Muslims. But they feel unwanted in their own home, rejected and ridiculed. When trying to communicate through the political system, their dress code is challenged. When trying to talk to the government about its policies, as the government asks citizens to do, then they are ignored. They turn to those who seem to succeed in creating impact – those advocating violence. Instead of rappers glamorising gun-crime, it is extremists glamorising terrorism.

The government, policymakers and the media treat these groups differently. They are different problems, they tell us. Heavy drinking, violence and anti-social behaviour are a cultural phenomenon, we are told. Young black men suffer from discrimination, reduced life chances and an identity crisis. Young Muslims are being poisoned by Islamic extremists, cry the tabloids and the neo-cons.

These evils do indeed exist, but they find their fertile breeding grounds in the same ugly causes. Young people have been let down by our ability to give them aspirations and opportunities. There is a failure to offer a framework of values, self-worth and the belief that they can achieve something in their own right by being part of society rather than trying to destroy it.

When success is measured entirely by the wealth and celebrity that can only be bestowed upon a few, and which we all know deep down is only a fickle yardstick, why bother trying? When you have never been taught at school about what faith and values are, and why morality is important, why do we find the disappearance of ‘traditional’ values a shock?

Neighbours and communities were once the bedrock of bringing up children, allowing them to learn how to interact, behave with and respect others. Now anyone taking a caring interest is labelled as ‘interfering’ and attacked. Why then are we surprised when the value of others is diminished?

There was once a drive to succeed and achieve your potential, now it is about gaining success and wealth. When simple material measures become meaningless, and you feel helpless to improve things any other way, then the void can be filled by ideology which offers clear directions and answers.

The murky grey of liberalism lurks like a mournful cloud over young people who want direction. It offers no pointers on how to break the deadlock and create something better. No wonder strong ideologies that paint a more vivid picture of the world and how to deal with it are so popular. Is it any surprise that the stark black and white nature of neo-conservatism or extremism and terrorism are so appealing to young people who have little aspiration, and less optimism about their future? When there appears no way to create change, then what is unexpected about using violence and terror to finally be heard?

The symptoms need treating. Violence, whether through over zealous addiction to bombs, beer or bling has to be dealt with firmly and with zero tolerance. They will all destroy our society. Beneath these we need to see that young people are bearing the burden of the deconstruction of our values and communities.

Muslims are accused of not being ‘British’, and are told they must be more British and adopt British values and live as part of the community. But accusations are usually most revealing about the self-same accuser. Do these directives uncover a longing to return to values and community life?

Being British is about sharing the same values. Sadly, as a nation, the values we once held dear of living together with respect, the importance of self-worth and of ambition to make something of ourselves, however small that ambition might seem, have been lost. We once loved to succeed. Now our younger generations are bearing the brunt of the self-loathing we feel at our failures. Young people of whatever background feel that the world around them has nothing to offer and that today’s Britishness is of little relevance.

For young Muslims, we need to instill a sense of empowerment and inclusion in society. Everyone wants to be part of the community they live in. Only when they see or experience rejection does anger build up and do alternatives become appealing. For young Muslims, it may be that they already have a grounding in the basics of faith. They may already have understood in their hearts that they want to live in a good society and create a better world for themselves and the people around them. But with the inability to create change and channel their aspirations through legitimate means, then extremist ideologies step in to show them how they can make a real impact. Young people learn by what they are shown. If governments can use violence to create a better world, then they will ask, why can’t they? And if a community has rejected them, then what responsibilities to they have to that community?

Anti-social behaviour and terrorism are degrees of difference. They both create fear, violence and death, albeit on enormously different scales. But for each individual that is affected by the fear, violence and death, for every single person murdered, the actions are equally mindless, and show equal disregard for the worth of others and the importance of community. What we need to recognise is that their roots lie in the same dark place of rejection, role models that glamorise violence and a seismic lack of hope and frustration.


The Inconvenient Diversity of Muslims

A group of civil servants are holding a meeting in the gloomy depths of Whitehall. The lacklustre policy-makers have been tasked to find solutions for Muslims. They check the Daily Mail and The Sun to research the problems.

“Immigration,” cries one of them. “National security!” barks another. “Parallel lives and integration,” disagrees the third. “They won’t eat sausages.” They pause and then chorus in horror: “What, no bangers and mash?” However, they do all agree on one thing: that Muslims are being problematic. If only they could organise themselves into one group, and present a unified document on their problems and the appropriate solutions, how handy that would be. They sigh wistfully at this utopia. Perhaps the Government could even elect someone to head this all up, an Archbishop, or a chief Rabbi.

“The Ottomans used to call the head honcho a ‘mufti’,” pipes up one of the new interns to the department. He rummages around in his briefcase and pulls out a recent report by an online pollster called YouGov. The intern is keen to impress. “42 per cent of Sunni Muslims believe that the UK should have a Sunni Muslim religious leader or mufti. 53 per cent of non-Muslims believe the same.” He lifts his head and glances at his compatriots like a puppy looking for adulation. He can sense he has captured the attention of the senior civil servants. Suddenly, a loud burp makes them turn their heads to the chubby old codger at the back of the room. “It’ll never work,” he hiccups. They all ignore him, infatuated by the statistics.

The consultant licks his lips. His contract is up for renewal and he urgently needs a new high profile project. “Let’s scope out a role for a mufti. We could do a reality TV show with a hundred thousand pound a year job at the end of it. We’d call it, ‘The Mufti’ and run a twelve week knock out competition. The tasks would include: condemnation of suicide bombers, alignment of all Muslims into one view and making sure all Muslim children speak only English from birth. Maybe one of the tasks could be a fashion show for Mufti clothes and beards from round the world.”

They all turn back to look at the intern. “53 per cent of other Muslims think it’s a good idea too.” “Does ‘other Muslims’ mean Shi’a Muslims?” asks the old codger. “Er, no, they are considered separately.” The weary codger sighs: “I wonder why there are more ‘other Muslims’ than Shi’a Muslims in this poll, given the high percentage of Shi’a Muslims in the UK.” The intern looks sheepish. He looks to the consultant for help, who in turn looks at the simple pie charts on the report: “63 per cent of Sunni Muslims believe that a Mufti would have a positive impact, and 54 per cent believe it would improve relations with non-Muslims.” He looks up, smug. He can sense a meaty renewal to his contract. “Grass roots search is the way to go fellows, we’ll by-pass any organisation and go straight to all those with no track records in community work. That way we don’t have to worry about agreement, consensus and diversity.”

The old codger leans over to look at the report and then snorts with the cynicism of age. “Mufti, shmufti.” He glances disdainfully at the intern who recoils in fear. “Ignoring the fact that the sample is not representative of the British Muslim population, 27 per cent of those polled didn’t even know if the UK should have a mufti, and a further 31 per cent said no. Between them is more than those who said that the UK should have one. 52 per cent thought the impact of a mufti would be negative, neutral or simply didn’t know. That’s more than those who thought it was a good thing.” He pauses. “It’s a complete nonsense.” He yawns and slumps back in his chair.

The grey suits mutter discontentedly. “This is Britain. We can’t be doing talking to people of different views from different groups. It’s just inconvenient. The Muslims who keep telling us that they are a diverse community of different ethnic groups and that they have varying views about Islam, is just a red herring to distract us. They need to get it together, and if they don’t, we’ll do it for them.” He turns to his assistant. “Get the idea over to the PM straight away. Tell him we need a mufti.” The assistant scuttles out of the room.

“I’ll write a document defining British Islam!” chips in the intern, trying to reclaim the glory for his idea. The room goes quiet and he’s not sure if he has hit upon a winner or not. He tries his luck. “The policy will include who can be an Imam and what the Imam can say. It will specify what schools Muslims can go to and how they have to fit in and go to the school disco. Obviously, we need to define what kinds of coverings Muslim women can wear especially when expressing political opinions. We don’t want just anyone participating in the political process willy-nilly. There could be a section on what languages Muslims are allowed to speak, especially at home, and of course we would define what opinions they can have. I could add an appendix on songs they need to learn to support the English football team, and how to behave in a pub.”

“Old hat, dear boy, old hat. We’ve got the citizenship test which covers football and pubs, and we’re sorting out legislation and guidelines on schooling and clothing. We’re getting rid of any organisations that seem to represent the variety of Muslim views and we’re already talking at grassroots level to people who have done little or no community service to get them more involved to brainwash the kids.” The grey suit smiles darkly. He has been working on his oratory style so he sounds more like Jack Straw. “The Muslim community is not uniform. You can’t just appoint an Archbishop of Muslims, or a Chief Islamic Rabbi.” The old codger’s voice hints at his exasperation with the lack of understanding and reality in the room.

The grey suit’s assistant creeps back into the room. He leans over and whispers something into the ear of the suit. His face darkens, and then he fidgets in his chair. “Forget this low-level drivel you’ve been discussing. I’ve been summoned by Gordon to talk about British-ness, and how we make the very un-British habit of snitching on people and telling tales into a Union Jack stamped British value.” He turns to the rest of the room and waves his hands around, as though consigning Blair’s rhetoric to the past. He addresses them with a speech drawn from his goldfish memory. “These failed terrorists in London and Glasgow, they are criminals, and we all need to be working to get rid of them. I don’t want to hear any more talk of Islamic terrorists or Islamofascists. You idiots got that? They are criminals and must be treated as such.”

The old codger’s first instinct is cynicism: “A Scotsman defining Britishness? Criminals defined and persecuted because of the hideousness of their crimes? Faith not maligned because of the actions of the extremist few?” He feels a counter-surge of optimism. He secretly hopes that this change of language about Muslims and terrorists from Brown signals a ray of hope, a change in the lunacy of the last few years. He’ll give Gordon some time to prove himself, but he’ll be watching…


In the footsteps of great Muslim cultures

I’m a bit late in posting this up, but here is my latest article from The Muslim News

On long summer evenings in the capital, young Muslims from across the city usually spill out onto the streets of central London. They are interspersed amongst the multitude of visitors from the Middle East who come here to escape from the unbearable heat of their home countries.

Edgware Road and Bayswater are particular magnates for these visitors, a bit like Ibiza and Tenerife for the British. They offer the languages, food and comforts of home, but in a better climate. The visitors usually spend time with the same people who they live close to at home. You see pockets of them congregating in Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park. The heavily perfumed and well-turned out women promenade through the department stores on Oxford Street, handing over credit cards and hauling home their voluminous purchases. Their influx is wonderful for London’s economy.

At first glance to the untrained eye, many of them would pass as London’s own Muslim community. The women are fashionably dressed, often speak good English, and mingle confidently in their new social environment. But look more closely, and their style of clothing, their conversations and languages vary considerably to those of born-and-bred British Muslims.

There seems to be little interaction between the visitors and those who are native to London, despite the commonalities of faith. This separation is intriguing, and quite surprising. As a child travelling abroad with my parents, it was instilled in me that it was obligatory in each place to search for the local halal restaurant, to establish immediately the location of the nearest mosque, to exchange information and experiences with the local Muslims. They would be just as excited to meet us, as we were to meet them, whether we were in Vancouver, Zagreb or Sierra Leone. Creating the bonds was deliciously satisfying and instantly made us feel at home.

The visitors to London appear to have little interest in getting to know the local Muslims. They have simply chosen to come on holiday to the UK to ‘get away from it all’. Does their lack of interest in the local Muslim population lie in the fact they come from a place where almost everyone is Muslim? Unlike the minority Muslim groups scattered around Europe and the Americas who look to create relationships wherever they travel, are they without the incentives to seek out those with whom they share faith connections? Alternatively, does the wider Muslim world make the assumption that Muslims round the globe must be the same as they are? Therefore they may have no interest in getting to know the natives. Or maybe they are simply not plugged into the fact that Muslims outside of the traditional ‘homelands’ are evolving and have their own contribution to make?

Muslims in the UK are sensitively attuned to what is happening to Muslims round the world, in countries where they are both the majority and the minority. Can the same be said for Muslims who inhabit the traditional countries of ‘Dar-ul-Islam’? Travelling around the Middle East, I am constantly asked if I am a Muslim, despite the fact that I wear the hijab. “Are there really Muslims in Britain?” they ask in innocent shock. “Do you really pray? You didn’t have a boyfriend or marry a non-Muslim? Are there really two million Muslims in the UK?”

I wonder if Muslim visitors to the UK notice the different flavour of Islam here. If they do, they may tell us that the ways of ‘back home’ are more religious, more cultural, more perfect; that the youth of the UK have strayed and must return to the cultural and religious ways, say the conservative elements. There is often criticism of young Muslims and their exploration of creating new cultures that draw on their heritage of being both Muslim and British, along with their own ethnic heritage.

And here lies the rub. Young British Muslims are trying intelligently to create a new culture for themselves that is positive, cohesive and confident. ‘Back home’ is no better and no worse. They simply say that it is not appropriate for them. They are forging a new culture and a new stage of development of Muslim culture.

Muslims love to hark back to the ‘golden’ age of the Muslim empire, as it spread across the Middle East, to the Indian sub-continent, to Malaysia, Indonesia and even China. These were the glory days, we are told, but the fact that these nations created their own Muslim cultures is glossed over. In fact, the Muslim cultures of such non-Arab territories far outnumber in terms of population those of the Arabian Muslim cultures. We look across at their history and achievements with pride, not as aberrations.

We should not be trying to retrofit the development of British Muslim culture into the mould of an ‘authentic’ Muslim culture. British Muslims should instead draw on the vibrant historic traditions of Muslims over the centuries who mesh with local communities to create new and dynamic cultures. The Alhambra in Spain is one of the world’s greatest testaments to the spirit of cultural development. The fact it lies in Europe, and so close to Britain should give us the confidence and pride to explore our faith through the prism of British-ness of which we are now an integral part.


The False Markers of Integration

Even the most hard-hearted of us must have felt a modicum of emotion during Tony Blair’s speech announcing the date of his resignation. The man has a way with words and is a talented orator. For a brief interlude I felt a spark of national pride, a sense of unity. Blair claimed that Britain was the “greatest nation on earth.” My British-ness which insists that I understate everything (“how are you now that you’ve won ten million pounds in the lottery” “can’t complain”) and which writhes in pain at self-promotion squirmed painfully when I heard this. It was more reminiscent of Bush and America. Paradoxically, his words did create a momentary flicker which did make me feel proud to be British (not because of Tony’s activities!). Just for a nano-second I felt part of a nation.

As a country we experience relatively few of these moments of nationhood. Princess Diana’s death was perhaps one, the fall of Margaret Thatcher another. The sore thumb in this list might be the day London won the bid for the Olympics. It was a day of positive achievement.

That to me appears to be where one of our key problems as a nation lies. As a British people we are like a gaggle of gossiping old ladies. We wheedle out the negatives, look for the problems and divisions, ignore the facts and then dispense unmerciful small-village justice to all and sundry. No wonder it’s all doom and gloom. And misery and negativity causes a downward spiral of poor analysis and shoddy judgements. We all know what happened with the scare-mongering about weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. If you go out with a pre-conceived theory looking for trouble, you will be sure to find it.

The BBC’s Panorama programme is very guilty of this approach. They aired a show recently about Britain’s “growing ethnic division”. They focused their analysis primarily on Blackburn but also on some other big cities and then analysed the behaviour of its ‘white’ and ‘Muslim Asian’ inhabitants looking for the signs of division and apartheid. This uncomfortable labelling was the programme’s own. Each little experiment they ran was designed to see how the paths of these two groups ran separately, how they embodied today’s buzzword: “parallel lives”.

For example, the programme makers went out on a Saturday night in a big city centre to see whether ‘whites’ were out with ‘Muslim Asians’. The predominantly Muslim Asians were playing snooker in smoke-free clubs. It was a comparatively quiet night out. The ‘whites’ were out in pubs and clubs getting plastered on their night off. They certainly seemed more animated and lively. Instead of us worrying about this growing phenomenon of binge drinking that brings so many desperate complications with it, we’re being told that the fact Muslim Asians aren’t doing it too is a cause for concern.

The programme failed to note the obvious – Muslims, by and large, don’t necessarily want to go out, get horribly drunk and go partying. Does integration demand that they do? Clothing seems to be an issue as well. Does integration demand that Muslim women should swap their long black cloaks, for short black dresses? What about love and relationships. Does the victory of multiculturalism require inter-marriage? Politically motivated choices about life-partners will only be a hollow meaningless victory. Policymakers want ethnic communities which include Muslims to speak only English to their children at home, instead of teaching them literacy at school.

These are the wrong questions, and inevitably they lead to the wrong answers, the wrong decisions and therefore they bring into being the very issues they describe. The same fingers are not pointed at other communities. These are false indicators of integration and cohesiveness and are designed simply to pick out these ‘problems’ with Muslims. Find a city and watch the interactions and paths of different classes and you will find the same conclusions. You won’t see someone from Chelsea shopping with the kids from the block in Brixton. The students at Oxford University don’t hang with their peers from down the road.

These attitudes are particularly grating because they fail to acknowledge the positives that are happening. Studies that challenge the assumptions are swiftly ignored. Where is our sense of looking for the positive? We should look through optimistic spectacles, not bang on with our own gossip-mongering prejudices.

A Lancaster University study, commissioned by the Home Office, examined the attitudes of 435 fifteen-year-olds on race, religion and integration. The students surveyed were at a predominantly white school in Burnley, a predominantly Asian Muslim school in Blackburn, and a mixed school in Blackburn. The study concluded that: “It might be reasonable… to suggest that it is the Asian-Muslim students in both the mixed and monocultural schools of Burnley and Blackburn who are in fact the most tolerant of all.”

Gallup commissioned a poll of Muslims in London. It found that Muslims’ loyalty to Britain is greater than the general public: 74 per cent as opposed to 45 per cent. Of the Muslims polled, 57 per cent said they identified strongly with their country, compared with 48 per cent of the British public.

A recent Populus poll agreed with this survey where it was found that only 33 per cent of the general population said they had Muslims as close personal friends. And yet almost 90 per cent of Muslims said they had close non-Muslim friends.

The poll indicates that Muslims are just as worried about the daily essentials and local issues as everyone else. These include issues such as the rise of gun crime, the increase in gang-related crime, poor education amongst the youth, high unemployment and poor health.

The great surprise then is no surprise. If we stop creating negative self-fulfilling prophecies, we find that most people share a sense of national identity, they want the basics to be taken care of, and they just want to live happy pleasant lives.

This article was recently published in The Muslim News