On July 29 2024 in Southport, 17-year-old Axel Rudakubana was arrested after repeatedly stabbing three little girls as they left a Taylor Swift-themed dance class they had been eagerly looking forward to. Following the attack, misinformation about Rudakubana's identity spread rapidly, suggesting that Rudakubana was a Muslim and an asylum seeker. Although these assertions were unfounded (Axel was born in a Christian family in the UK, and had no known religious affiliations), racist and far right networks used these false claims to fuel racially motivated unrest.
This led to intense national riots, where protesters attacked Muslim centers of faith, but also shops held by non-white workers, and living quarters of asylum seekers to just name a few. It is widely recognized in social psychology that heat exacerbates aggression, so one could attribute the violence of the protests to the summer weather. After all, it’s hot, we’re packed tightly in this crowd, the pavement is sweaty, I sweat, you sweat, we all sweat, and we all get angry. But it seems that this violence had been simmering for months, if not years, in part as a product of the general rise of the far right in Europe.
For the past decades, the political right has gained momentum in England. For instance self-defined non-fascist far-right groups, referred to as right wing populist, try to replace traditional conservative parties, while at the same time, mainstream conservative parties have been shifting rightwards. For political economist Joseph Choonara, this is the political landscape that allowed groups with openly fascist agendas, such as Football Lads Alliance, Patriotic Alternative, National Action, British Mvt, Britain First and the Ulster Defence Association, to spread misinformation and organize violent protests after the stabbing. Choonara noted: “it is no exaggeration to say that, had anti-racists not mobilised in force, we would likely now be seeing pogroms directed against Muslims and refugees across Britain”.
Quite obviously, the ambient brutality vehiculated by far-right protesters was traumatising for many individuals, especially non-White Muslims, who were the first victims. The spread of false narratives on the stabbing not only misled the public but also instigated a climate of violence and fear for Muslim and non-White populations all over the country. Indeed, the protests broke out nationwide: Southport, Bristol, Belfast, Newcastle, Leeds, Stoke, Manchester, Liverpool, and many other cities.
To gain insight on the dramatic impact of the riots on Muslim communities, I interviewed Ahmed (whose real name was replaced for privacy reasons), who defines himself as a 44 year-old British Pakistani Muslim. Ahmed wears many hats: he is a father, a student at a British university, an entrepreneur, and a community leader in a mosque nearby, where he teaches the Qur’an and takes part in various charity projects. His identity as a British citizen is multifaceted, making his perception of the recent riots unique and important.
Spirituality in the face of obstacles
Ahmed is attached to his role of religious and spiritual leader in the mosque of his neighbourhood. He is a devout Muslim, and prays at the mosque five times a day, in addition to teaching the Qur’an to children and taking part in community gatherings. Thus, he and his family were heavily impacted by the threat of violent far-right protesters entering their centres of faith, workplaces and houses. He recalled: “It was then, okay, so I am going to pray, but will I be safe?” Yet, Ahmed could not come to terms with the idea that someone could prevent him from praying in a cherished sacred space. He kept on going to pray five times a day, and this actually brought him closer to his faith: “Because I study my faith and I know what my faith says about harming people… taking one of God’s beings, it’s a huge sin. So it just made my case stronger to say, well, look, my religion is completely against this”. Ahmed also sent me a picture that perfectly illustrates how, in the face of hatred and obstacles, faith is his lifeline.
A tension of identities
When he was six months old, Ahmed’s parents moved to the United Kingdom from Pakistan, and he has lived there ever since. Spiritually, he describes himself as a “devoted Muslim”. Ahmed therefore defines himself as ‘Pakistani British Muslim’. Throughout the discussion, he talked about the difficulty in existing as a Pakistani British Muslim in a state that defines itself as secular, and where a large portion of the population has far-right political leanings. On one hand, Ahmed speaks of the contradiction of living under a said secular state that claims freedom of religion, but that actually tries to erase differences: “And even though one of the laws, you know, you have freedom of religion, I feel practically that's not the case.” On the other hand, he is too often essentialized as a “radical” Muslim: “I'm associating with people who are white British, and even though they may not want to say it aloud, but I know in their hearts, straight away, they're going to have, you know, an opinion on me without even knowing what my beliefs are”. So while Ahmed simply wants to live according to his religion, he is either denied that right, or shamed and excluded for it. It is important to hear Ahmed’s voice, because in addition to the fundamental difficulty of living under secular law as a religious individual, Ahmed and his loved ones have to face marginalization and stigmatization on an everyday basis.
Racism and Islamophobia
When I asked Ahmed to express himself further on the topic of discrimination, he explained that if he had a chance to live outside of the UK, he would take it immediately. One reason is the fundamental difficulty to exist as a Muslim in a secular state that leaves little space for anything else. “The most polite way of putting this would be how they want to create a secular society based on one ideology. And that's not my way of thinking. And anyone who doesn't coincide or align with those ways, then they're not part of us, I'd say.”
The other reason behind Ahmed’s intention to leave the UK is systematic racism and Islamophobia. Indeed, the protests of last summer were not an isolated phenomena. Instead, they are the tip of the iceberg: a growing violence and anger towards Muslim populations in the country, partly fueled by far-right and fascist groups on the rise. Because racism and Islamophobia are insidious, Ahmed explains that he is constantly on his toes in social events: “when we sit with people, you wouldn't know what their thoughts are. But behind the scenes, when they're drunk, you know, I've been to many work parties. And those same people that I've worked with for many years, you can actually see a different side of them when they're under the influence of alcohol or, you know, when they speak to other people.” Although he understands that British people could feel frightened by the growing Muslim population, including increased rates of conversion to Islam, Ahmed thinks that this is not a reason to attack their faith. The exclusion of Muslims reinforces a cycle of violence and fear that completely excludes any form of dialogue.
This cycle of violence and fear is the reason why, when Ahmed first heard of the stabbing on the 29th of July, his first thought was “please don’t let it be a Muslim”. That was his first thought. He then explains further: “because straight away, we, me as well, being someone who is quite an important figure within my community, we immediately get labelled… They don’t need an excuse. They’re always looking for incidents like this, where they can then express themselves and say, we told you these people are like that. Get them out of here”. The subsequent far-right protests instilled fear in Ahmed’s daily life, when he was walking on the street, going to the mosque, driving in his car, Ahmed thought “oh, now we’re going to be labelled as terrorists”.
The role of the media
Ahmed also emphasized the role played by the media in adding fuel to the fire: “I truly believe that the media, whoever owns the media, wins the fame… and because of what is being shared in there, it incites hatred and then it allows groups like the far-right to arise”. This is not the first time that we mention mediatic polarization in The Diplomat; we hope that this provides the reader with more food for thought.
Turning to the future
I finished my interview by asking Ahmed about what the future holds for him, and for British Muslims in general. To this, he reiterated that he feels uncomfortable in this country, and that he would leave if he had the means to. But Ahmed also proposes a solution: to promote communication and confidence between religious groups, in order to create solidarity. Finally, Ahmed described the government’s reaction to the violent protests as efficient, but maybe too discrete: “we never heard about it (the protests) afterwards… it was just brushed under the carpet”. The reason for this is, again, difference of treatment between citizens depending on their ethnic and religious background. For Ahmed, if the protesters had not been majoritarily White and Christian, they would have been discussed and punished more severely.
Everything is political. Ahmed’s feelings and opinions are personal, but they reflect how his rights have been violated by a society that wants to erase, secularize and uniformize each and every citizen. And the protests of last summer are only the tip of an iceberg: a phenomenon of marginalization of the Other that has been going on for decades now. Ahmed cannot speak up as a Muslim or a Pakistani if he wants to be heard by the society he lives in, there is no space for a non-Christian and non-White subjectivity on the British political scene. I hope that this article renders justice to his voice, one that is surely shared by many others in the country, if not in Europe. Ahmed’s interview also sheds light on how speaking from your own subjectivity, in this case a Muslim Pakistani British subjectivity, can be incredibly fruitful for discussion; it brings brightness, illuminates depth through shades, and creates layers, contrast, and perspective.
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