I beseech you to please read all of the following. Thank you. xx
I recently watched an interview where a few Muslim men said they hoped England would one day become a Muslim nation. I found it deeply disappointing. Not because I fear Islam. I’m a Muslim. But because comments like that reinforce a narrative that many people already believe: that Muslims want to take over Britain. Those men do not represent the overwhelming majority of British Muslims.
Most of us simply want to raise our families, contribute to society, practise our faith peacefully and live alongside our neighbours. Britain belongs to everyone who calls this country home. That’s one of the things that makes Britain, Britain. Words matter. When a handful of people make statements like that, they make life harder for millions of Muslims who don’t share those views.
If we ask people not to judge Islam by its loudest and most extreme voices, then we should also be prepared to say, clearly and confidently, that those voices do not speak for us. There are other conversations within our own community that I think we need to have.
I occasionally hear some Muslims talk about Britain as though it’s somewhere else. “The West.” “Them.” But for many of us, this isn’t “the West”. It’s home. Many of us were born here. Our children are growing up here. Language shapes how we think. If we constantly describe ourselves as outsiders, we shouldn’t be surprised if some people begin to see us that way too.
Then there’s integration. I know that word has been weaponised by some people. But that shouldn’t stop us having an honest conversation. Integration doesn’t mean giving up your faith. It doesn’t mean abandoning your culture. It means participating fully in the society you call home while remaining true to who you are. Learning English matters because it opens doors. It allows us to speak to our neighbours, support our children’s education and take a fuller part in the life of this country.
Then there is migration. This conversation has become almost impossible to have because people immediately choose sides. The reality is more nuanced than that. I’ve met migrants who have embraced Britain wholeheartedly. They’ve learned English, worked hard, built businesses, volunteered in their communities and become valued members of society. I’ve also met people who have lived here for many years but have very little interaction outside their own community. Both realities exist. Ignoring either reality helps no one.
When a small minority commit crimes or reject the responsibilities that come with living here, innocent migrants and British Muslims often end up being painted with the same brush. That isn’t fair. But neither does pretending those problems don’t exist.
Now let me be equally clear. No amount of integration will ever satisfy genuine racists. You can be born here, speak perfect English, own businesses, pay taxes, work in the NHS and dedicate your life to your community, and some people will still tell you that you don’t belong. That is racism. And it should always be challenged.
But challenging racism should never prevent us from having honest conversations about ourselves. Those are two different conversations. I’ve always believed that the strongest communities aren’t the ones that think they’re beyond criticism. They’re the ones with the confidence to look in the mirror, have the difficult conversations and keep striving to be better.
I haven’t written this because I think Muslims are uniquely flawed. Every community has difficult conversations it needs to have. I’ve written it because I care about the country my children are growing up in. If we want a Britain where people trust one another again, then all of us, not just Muslims, need the courage to challenge prejudice, reject extremism and be honest about where we can do better. Because that’s how stronger communities are built.
From my own experience, I don’t believe these views are unusual within the Muslim community. They’re certainly not unusual among the Muslims I know. These are conversations we’ve had for years. We’ve expressed frustration when people make reckless statements, we’ve condemned acts of terrorism, and we’ve worried about the damage caused by those who claim to speak in our name.
The idea that an ordinary Muslim would support someone walking into a synagogue, a church or any other place of worship to murder innocent people is not just wrong. It’s grotesque. It’s inhumane. And it is completely contrary to the values that my faith teaches me.
The problem is that ordinary people living ordinary lives rarely become headlines. Fear does. Hatred does. Extremism does. A Muslim quietly condemning terrorism, raising a family, going to work and living peacefully alongside their neighbours isn’t news. But that quiet majority exists, even if it rarely makes the front page.
Shah Lalon Amin
