Chris Allen, University of Leicester
As someone who has researched Islamophobia in Britain for a quarter of a century, it is clear to me that the current violence on the streets of Britain is an example of it.
This was true from the first outbreak of violence, after a peaceful vigil for the three young girls who were fatally stabbed in an attack in Southport. A group of several hundred people began throwing bottles and bricks at police. They then directed their anger on the local mosque and those inside, with some even attempting to set fire to it.
The targeting of Muslims was initially put down to misinformation on social media claiming the perpetrator was a Muslim who had arrived in a small boat the year beforehand. Both of these claims have been refuted, yet Muslims and mosques continue to be targeted in the violence across the country, along with hotels known to be housing migrants.
Politicians have shied away from calling it Islamophobia, instead describing the violence as “far-right thuggery” and “anti-immigration protests”. Islamophobia and anti-immigration sentiment have been par for the course for the British far right since the turn of the century.
Beginning with the British National Party – a far-right political party that had unprecedented electoral success in local council elections in the early 2000s – a similar ideological trajectory can be traced through a number of far-right street movements that emerged between 2009 and 2018. These included the English Defence League (EDL) in around 2010, Britain First, Football Lads Alliance and Democratic Football Lads Alliance among others.
These groups have couched racist ideology in the notion of “defence”. Initially in providing a defence against a perceived threat from Muslim “extremists”, at times this has been used as code for all and every Muslim. More recently, far-right groups have mobilised to defend free speech and “our” women and girls from “grooming gangs”. Underlying all of this is a desire to defend “our” country, way of life and culture from threatening enemy others.
This is evident in the activities of the far-right group, Britain First. Claiming to provide “the frontline resistance to the Islamification of Britain” they conflate the threat they claim is posed by Muslims with the threat posed by “illegal immigration”. The group has taken to patrolling beaches near the English Channel with the intention of stopping “illegal” Muslims from entering the country.
Today, Muslims and immigrants, particularly asylum seekers from the Middle East, are two sides of the same problem for the British far right. But this conflation of the two groups has not occurred in a vacuum.
Much of the far-right rhetoric about Muslims and migrants has been replicated by at least some mainstream politicians. Just look at the similarities between the language used in the ongoing riots and the rhetoric used by politicians. Some are chanting “stop the boats” – Rishi Sunak’s own policy on irregular migration.
The vilification of Muslims and their communities has become normalised by both Labour and Conservative parties, as well as Ukip and Reform UK. Baroness Sayeeda Warsi spoke of Islamophobia having passed the “dinner table test”, where ordinary people would say things about Muslims in company with others that they would never say about other minority communities.
This is partly the legacy of the Brexit Leave campaign’s toxic rhetoric on popular views about immigration that continued right up to the recent general election.
Over the years, large sections of the public have become receptive to and accepting of Islamophobia (including far-right messages), and of the demonisation of migrants. Politicians of all stripes have enabled this by avoiding explicitly discussing Islamophobia.
The I-word
In his response to the unrest, Keir Starmer told Muslims: “I will take every step possible to keep you safe.” He continued: “Whatever the apparent motivation … we will not tolerate attacks on mosques or our Muslim communities.”
Surely, the “apparent motivation” is Islamophobia?
This has been pointed out by both MP Zarah Sultana and general secretary of the Muslim Council of Britain, Zara Mohammed. For them, the motivation was clear and unequivocal, and both wanted the prime minister to name it for what it is.
Starmer choosing not to use the “I-word” is far from surprising. As my research has repeatedly shown, few politicians are willing to do so. Acknowledging that Islamophobia exists would mean having to do something about it. And as we know, this has never happened.
Few politicians can be seen to truly care about Islamophobia. As a result, it is rendered unimportant by most politicians and the parties they represent. Despite some paying lip service to the matter, it always quickly disappears from the political agenda. Maybe this is what Starmer is hoping for.
Furthermore, mainstream political actors have been able to deploy Islamophobia for personal and political gain without fear of recourse or censure. There is no better illustration than Boris Johnson referring to Muslim women who wear the niqab looking like “letterboxes” or “bank robbers”. Not only did Johnson refuse to apologise but shortly after, he became prime minister. Another example is Lee Anderson, whose comments accusing London mayor Sadiq Khan of being controlled by Islamists were never called Islamophobic by the party.
The consequences of refusing to address (or even acknowledge) Islamophobia are now playing out in towns and cities across the country. The longer politicians pretend that Islamophobia doesn’t exist, the worse the problem will get, and the more permission the far right will feel they have to get away with violence.
Chris Allen, Associate Professor, School of Criminology, University of Leicester
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
