Following recent violent disorder, the debate on whether the Labour Party should officially adopt the working definition of ‘Islamophobia’ developed by the All-Party Parliamentary Group on British Muslims has been reignited.
The riots across parts of England (as well as Belfast in Northern Ireland) in the aftermath of the horrific Southport atrocity where three girls were stabbed to death, saw mosques attacked and Muslim businesses targeted. Much of this has been attributed to the proliferation of anti-Muslim conspiracy theories following Southport – one being that the suspect was a Muslim illegal migrant from the Middle East who arrived in the UK on a small boat from France. The suspect, now named as British born-and-raised teenager Axel Rudakubana, belongs to a family of Rwandan Christian heritage.
Considering this, there is certainly scope for establishing a definition of ‘anti-Muslim prejudice’ which is focused on the rights, protections, and freedoms of British Muslim individuals, families, and communities. This should have a particular focus on the dissemination of unfounded anti-Muslim conspiracy theories – especially those which risk endangering members of the UK’s Islamic population. It should also concentrate on tackling the so-called ‘Muslim penalty’ in spheres of British life such as the labour market and the private rented sector – areas where practical material improvements can be achieved.
The concern with the APPG British Muslims’ definition of ‘Islamophobia’ is that it runs the risk of conflating genuine cases of anti-Muslim discrimination and perfectly legitimate criticism of religious ideology. This is reflected by the fact that much of the focus on ‘Islamophobia Defined’ is on Islam and its compatibility with British liberal democracy, which is certainly a separate matter to anti-Muslim discrimination and prejudice.
While I fully disagree with those who say that Islam has no place in Britain and believe that Islamic values are incompatible with British heritage and traditions (civic associations such as the UK Muslim Scouts Fellowship prove the very opposite), it is a debate that needs to be had as freely and transparently as possible. Indeed, Islam’s role in modern British life can only be truly secure through inter-group knowledge exchange based on open communication.
There are also provisions which are problematic from an academic perspective – one being that ‘accusing Muslim citizens of being more loyal to the ‘Ummah’ (transnational Muslim community) or to their countries of origin’ is a form of Islamophobia. Of course, saying that British Muslims are more loyal to the Ummah or their respective countries of origin as a religious-political collective would be a sweeping anti-Muslim generalisation – there is no evidence of this to support such a claim. However, previous studies such as the 2010 Ethnic Minority British Election Study – which remains the most comprehensive investigation into British ethnic minorities – showed that there are notable sections of the UK’s Muslim population who report a ‘stronger religious identity’ over British national identification.
Of course, this may be somewhat shaped by perceived experiences of discrimination, but the point is that academics should remain free to explore national, ethnic, and religious attachments within any section of the British population. Indeed, such research is essential from the perspective of social integration and national cohesion. Experienced scholars investigating the proportion of British Muslims who identify more with their religious affiliation than their British nationality or Pakistani ethnicity should not be fearful of the charge of ‘Islamophobia’.
But the crucial point which is overlooked in all this is that the APPG for British Muslims’ working definition of Islamophobia is ultimately modelled on the antisemitism definition produced by the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA). To support one and have fundamental reservations over the other is, therefore, intellectually inconsistent. An especially problematic element of the IHRA definition is ‘accusing Jewish citizens of being more loyal to Israel, or to the alleged priorities of Jews worldwide, than to the interests of their own nations’. Again, to accuse all British Jews of doing this is a traditional antisemitic canard – but shouldn’t there be freedom to highlight specific cases where certain commentators and journalists appear to have prioritised the Israeli governmental interest over British social cohesion?
Both definitions contain needlessly restrictive provisions relating to foreign regimes. Solid definitions of anti-Muslim prejudice and anti-Semitism would not carry a notable risk of providing cover for the tribal grievance-based politics of some Muslim-majority countries and the State of Israel. This has little to nothing to do with the health, safety, and well-being of religious minorities living in the UK.
There is a golden opportunity here to establish definitions of anti-Muslim and anti-Jewish prejudice with a central focus on the rights and protections of communities in the UK, as well as preserving Britain’s rich history of robust scholarly investigation, intellectual openness, and academic freedom.
It is time for a new anti-discrimination settlement.
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