How to interpret the UK "ban minarets" poll

Read this before you open tomorrow's newspapers

According to a new survey published by Angus Reid Public Opinion today, "Britain would vote to ban minarets" if the Swiss referendum were repeated here. This contrasts with the United States, where the vote would be evenly split, and Canada, where the proposal would be rejected.

You can find the full results of the three-country polling here -- and I would advise you to do so, particularly if this survey is picked up as a news story in tomorrow's papers. For, if they present the results as I have done above (merely repeating the way Angus Reid has done in its missive), the effect will be to focus on their most negative interpretation -- not to mention the unwelcome suggestion that we in the UK are more illiberal than Americans. (Canadians we can just about get: but the people who elected Dubya? More Islamophile than us?)

I would be the last to pretend that many British people do not have a very real problem with Islam, and that includes many left-liberals, secularists and feminists whose opposition is principled, if, in my opinion, wrong. Actually calling for minarets to be banned, however, is to step beyond principle and full square into the territory of prejudice.

So I am relieved to report that there is a much more hopeful interpretation to be put on the survey's findings.

Firstly, a majority of respondents in all three countries agreed, either "strongly" or "moderately" with the proponents of the ban. But in each case this majority was under 50 per cent (44 per cent in Britain, 37 per cent in Canada and only 30 per cent in the USA). Secondly, although majorities in Britain and the USA would vote "yes" in a referendum on a ban, these too were not absolute majorities -- 37 per cent in the UK, and a mere 21 per cent in America.

True, these figures are larger than those who would vote against (UK: 25 per cent; USA : 19 per cent). But the real story for me in this survey is that, faced with this questionnaire, majorities in all three countries refused to say "yes" when asked if they would vote in favour of a ban.

Forgive me if that sounds a little convoluted (I've had to use a double negative because I can't formally say majorities actually oppose the ban). What the survey showed was that vast numbers of people either wouldn't vote or weren't sure -- around 40 per cent in Britain and Canada and over 60 per cent in the USA.

I find that a great cause for cheer, because it makes clear that, when asked to come to a closed-minded, prejudiced judgement on whether members of one of the world's major religions should be allowed to erect thin, elegant structures to adorn their places of worship -- this is all minarets are -- majorities in all three countries will not do so. They will either oppose such a ruling, or not feel strongly about it, or they will think about it.

During a referendum you have time to explain your case. Given that I think the argument against a ban has common sense, decency and toleration on its side, after reading this survey I feel confident that victory would go to those who would oppose a ban.

And that, I think, is the real message from this poll.

Sholto Byrnes is a Contributing Editor to the New Statesman
Felipe Araujo
Show Hide image

Hull revisited: What happens when a Brexit stronghold becomes City of Culture?

We report from Hull, to find out if you can replace the kind of nostalgia that led to a Leave vote with cultural investment.

At 75 metres long, the offshore wind turbine blade erected across Queen Victoria Square, in the heart of Hull, is a sculpture intended to mark a new chapter in the city’s history. For the next 12 months, Hull, a city of more than a quarter of a million people in the northeast of England, will be the UK’s City of Culture.

The 28-tonne blade hails from the local Siemens plant. The German technology company employs around 1,000 people in the area, making it Hull’s biggest single employer.

Seen up close in this context – laid dormant in the middle of a town square instead of spinning up in the air generating energy – the structure is meant to remind passersby of a giant sea creature. It is also, I’m told, an allusion to Hull’s rich maritime history.


All photos: Felipe Araujo

Nostalgia is a big thing in this part of the country. At one point, Hull was the UK’s third largest port but technology and privatisation drastically changed that. The battle over cod fishing with Iceland in the waters of the North Sea 40 years ago has also dealt a major blow to a region with a long and proud trawling tradition.

People here still talk about a bygone era when the fishing industry provided jobs for everyone and there was enough money to go around.

Fast forward to 2017, and the country’s new capital of culture is the same city that voted 67 per cent in favour of leaving the EU last June. Its new-found prestige, it seems, is not enough to erase years of neglect by a political class “too busy for commoners like us”, as one resident puts it.

“More than a message to Brussels, it [the Brexit vote] was a message to Westminster,” Paul Leeson-Taylor, a filmmaker born and bred in Hull, tells me. “For the first time in a long time people in Hull felt like they had the chance to change something, and they took it.”

But while speaking to people on the high street and hanging out with locals at the Community Boxing Club in Orchard Park, one of the city’s most deprived areas, there is one word that consistently popped up in conversation – more than any specific policy from Westminster or the much-hated rules “dictated” by Brussels. Foreigners.

According to official figures, Hull’s population is 89.1 per cent white British. Still, immigration is big on people’s minds here.

During my two-day stay in the city, I find myself being the only black person in most places I visit – I’m certainly the only black guy at the boxing club. So when someone begins a sentence with “I’m not racist but…”, I know a tirade on immigrants is about to ensue.

“There are just too many of them,” Nick Beach, an estate agent whose Polish clientele is a big part of his business, tells me as he is about to teach a boxing class to local children. Beach was born in Shepherd’s Bush, in West London, but has been living in Hull for the last 20 years.

“When I go down there these days and go into Westfield shopping centre, it is very rare you get an English person serving you now,” he says. “I just find it disappointing that you go into your capital city and you are a minority there.”

These are the much-discussed “left behind”, a white working-class community that has gained particular prominence in a time of Brexit and Donald Trump. Under economic pressure and facing social change, they want to have their say in running a country they claim to no longer recognise.

For Professor Simon Lee, a senior politics lecturer at the University of Hull, immigration is only a superficial layer when it comes to explaining the resentment I witness here. For him, the loss of the empire 70 years ago is still something that as a country Britain hasn’t come to terms with.

“The reason for us to be together as a United Kingdom has gone, so what is the project?”

As destiny would have it, a foreign company will now play a major role on Hull’s economic future, at least in the short term. In the wake of the Brexit vote, there were widespread fears Siemens would pull out of the region and take its factory elsewhere. With the massive blade looming large in the background, Jason Speedy, director of the blade factory in Hull, assures me that isn’t the case.

“The Brexit decision has made no difference. We have made our investment decision, so Siemens, together with the Association of British Ports, has put in £310m. It’s all full steam ahead.”

As Hull becomes the country’s cultural hub for the next few months, the hope is that its residents stop looking back and start looking forward.

For Professor Lee, though, until there is a complete change in the power structures that run the country, the north-south divide will remain – with or without the EU. “The way you kill nostalgia is to have something new,” he said. “The reason why people here are nostalgic is because there is nothing to replace it with.”

Felipe Araujo is a freelance journalist based in London. He writes about race, culture and sports. He covered the Rio Olympics and Paralympics on the ground for the New Statesman. He tweets @felipethejourno.