Educating the English Defence League

The EDL’s demonstration in Luton undermines efforts by British Muslims to tackle terrorism and extremism.

When members and supporters of the English Defence League demonstrate in Luton on Saturday they will display their genuine but misplaced fears about Islam as a source of violence, extremism and disloyalty to the UK. Sadly, and merely because they wear distinctive "Islamic" clothing, some of Luton's most loyal and effective opponents of terrorism, extremism and subversion will be targets of EDL hatred and violent intimidation. Not only is this grossly unjust, but it also increases the risk of further violence and intimidation of Muslims in Luton – a town the EDL calls the hub of militant Islam in the UK. Shortly after an earlier EDL demonstration in the town, the Luton Islamic Centre was firebombed and several Muslims were attacked in the street. Of particular concern was the fact that the attackers used an accelerant that increased the petrol bomb's capacity to cause harm and damage.

Even in the face of such provocation, the managers at the Luton Islamic Centre have been prepared to engage with their violent opponents and to provide education about Islam and Muslims to help disabuse young local EDL supporters of their misplaced fears. Interestingly, these brave Luton Muslims compare the leadership of the EDL with al-Muhajiroun, a fringe extremist Muslim group that uses many names including Islam 4 The UK to stir up hatred and provide the EDL with an erroneous image of Islam. Each extremist group, they say from local knowledge, feeds off the other. To demonstrate their point, the mosque managers led a successful campaign to challenge al-Muhajiroun on the streets of Luton. This robust action served to weaken al-Muhajiorun's street credibility among young local Muslims and also to educate the wider local community about the nature of Islam.

This is an important lesson in street education I have seen repeated in Brixton and Finsbury Park. Like the Luton Islamic Centre, Brixton Mosque for many years has been at the forefront of self-generated local action challenging and tackling fringe Muslim groups like al-Muhajiroun as well as the more serious but equally fringe support for al-Qaeda-inspired terrorism. To illustrate, the Brixton Muslims sent Anjem Choudhury, leader of al-Muhajiroun, and his supporters packing when they sought to promote hatred and disharmony in the local community in 2009. Most crucially, a crowd of young Muslims watched as the hitherto impressive and assured Choudhury was out-argued by his Brixton hosts before being despatched back to Ilford with his humiliated supporters in tow.

No doubt a hard core of EDL members would resist any serious attempts to educate them about Islam, but experience suggests that many young EDL supporters might be reassured about Islam and their Muslim neighbours if their concerns were taken seriously, and if they saw some of their role models begin to demonstrate support for Muslims and Islam.

If young supporters of the EDL were educated in much the same way as many racists have been educated in the past two decades, then we might begin to see a significant reduction in EDL membership and to the threat the organisation poses to public safety and social cohesion. That at least is the view of a group of Luton Town football supporters, who told me that the success of campaigns such as Let's Kick Racism Out of Football might be repeated to the detriment of EDL membership if they embraced the challenge of Islamophobia with the same enthusiasm.

For the main part, that means informal education in the classroom, in workplaces, at sporting events and at social gatherings. Role models are widely understood to have played critical roles in reducing racism in football, and that may well be significant, given the extent to which EDL draws support from football fans.

The recent BBC Newsnight report on the English Defence League perfectly illustrated this affinity with football culture and highlighted the urgent need to educate EDL supporters about the religion of Islam. In Luton, Nottingham and Birmingham, both new and established EDL members are shown expressing fears about Islam as a source of terrorism, extremism, subversion, barbarity and criminal sexual exploitation of women. If Islam was genuinely the kind of threat to England that these EDL members perceive it to be, then their anger and determination to oppose it might be justified. The fact that Islam is not the threat that the EDL and many citizens genuinely believe it to be should therefore be the basis of urgent remedial action at both the national and local level.

Given the alarming growth of EDL membership and support, there is an onus on all of us with knowledge of Islam to help educate EDL members and supporters about Islam and Muslims. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to suggest that the EDL needs re-educating about Islam. The Newsnight report itself and Jeremy Paxman's subsequent interview with the EDL leader Stephen Lennon (aka "Tommy Robinson") illustrate how EDL organisers have spent much of the past two years learning about Islam. Unfortunately, they have drawn their new knowledge from a vast array of inaccurate, Islamophobic literature that has become widespread during the last decade.

While Paxman did his best to point out the deficiencies in EDL understanding of Islam, it became sufficiently clear that Lennon's personal experience in his home town of Luton required knowledge about Islam and Muslims that Paxman does not possess. Instead, these lessons are best provided by Muslims in Luton, Brixton, Finsbury Park and the many other towns and communities where such problems arise.

Dr Robert Lambert is co-director of the European Muslim Research Centre (EMRC) at the University of Exeter. He was previously head of the Muslim Contact Unit (MCU) in the Metropolitan Police.

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In defence of orientalism, the case against Twenty20, and why Ken should watch Son of Saul

My week, from Age Concern to anti-semitism.

Returning late from a party I never much wanted to go to, I leap up and down in the middle of the Harrow Road in the hope of flagging down a taxi, but the drivers don’t notice me. Either they’re haring down the fast lane or they’re too preoccupied cursing Uber to one another on their mobile phones. My father drove a black cab, so I have a deep loyalty to them. But there’s nothing like being left stranded in NW10 in the dead of night to make one reconsider one’s options. I just wish Uber wasn’t called Uber.

Just not cricket

Tired and irritable, I spend the next day watching sport on television – snooker, darts, cricket, anything I can find. But I won’t be following the Indian Premier League’s Twenty20 cricket again. It’s greedy, cynical, over-sponsored and naff. Whenever somebody hits a boundary, cheerleaders in cast-off gym kit previously worn by fourth-form Roedean girls wave tinsel mops.

Matches go to the final over where they’re decided in a thrashathon of sixes hit by mercenaries wielding bats as wide as shovels. Why, in that case, don’t both teams just play a final over each and dispense with the previous 19? I can’t wait for the elegant ennui of a five-day Test match.

Stop! Culture police!

I go to the Delacroix exhibition at the National Gallery to shake off the sensation of all-consuming kitsch. Immediately I realise I have always confused Delacroix with someone else but I can’t decide who. Maybe Jacques-Louis David. The show convincingly argues that Delacroix influenced every artist who came after him except Jeff Koons, who in that case must have been influenced by David. It’s turbulent, moody work, some of the best of it, again to my surprise, being religious painting with the religion taken out. Christ’s followers lamenting his death don’t appear to be expecting miracles. This is a man they loved, cruelly executed. The colours are the colours of insupportable grief.

I love the show but wish the curators hadn’t felt they must apologise for Delacroix finding the North Africans he painted “exotic”. Cultural studies jargon screams from the wall. You can hear the lecturer inveighing against the “appropriating colonial gaze” – John Berger and Edward Said taking all the fun out of marvelling at what’s foreign and desirable. I find myself wondering where they’d stand on the Roedean cheer-leaders of Mumbai.

Taking leave of the senses

My wife drags me to a play at Age Concern’s headquarters in Bloomsbury. When I see where she’s taking me I wonder if she plans to leave me there. The play is called Don’t Leave Me Now and is written by Brian Daniels. It is, to keep it simple, about the effects of dementia on the families and lovers of sufferers. I am not, in all honesty, expecting a good time. It is a reading only, the actors sitting in a long line like a board of examiners, and the audience hunched forward in the attitude of the professionally caring.  My wife is a therapist so this is her world.

Here, unlike in my study, an educated empathy prevails and no one is furious. I fear that art is going to get lost in good intention. But the play turns out to be subtly powerful, sympathetic and sharp, sad and funny; and hearing it read engages me as seeing it performed might not have done. Spared the spectacle of actors throwing their bodies around and singing about their dreams against a backdrop painted by a lesser, Les Mis version of Delacroix, you can concentrate on the words. And where dementia is the villain, words are priceless.

Mixing with the proles

In Bloomsbury again the next day for a bank holiday design and craft fair at Mary Ward House. I have a soft spot for craft fairs, having helped run a craft shop once, and I feel a kinship with the designers sitting bored behind their stalls, answering inane questions about kilns and receiving empty compliments. But it’s the venue that steals the show, a lovely Arts and Crafts house, founded in the 1890s by the novelist Mary Ward with the intention of enabling the wealthy and educated to live among the poor and introduce them to the consolations of beauty and knowledge. We’d call that patronising. We’re wrong. It’s a high ideal, to ease the burden of poverty and ignorance and, in Ward’s words, save us from “the darker, coarser temptations of our human road”.

An Oscar-winning argument for Zionism

Speaking of which, I am unable to empty my mind of Ken Livingstone and his apologists as I sit in the cinema and watch the just-released Academy Award-winning Son of Saul, a devastating film about one prisoner’s attempt to hold on to a vestige of humanity in a Nazi death camp. If you think you know of hell from Dante or Michelangelo, think again. The inferno bodied forth in Son of Saul is no theological apportioning of justice or deserts. It is the evisceration of meaning, the negation of every grand illusion about itself mankind has ever harboured. There has been a fashion, lately, to invoke Gaza as proof that the Holocaust is a lesson that Jews failed to learn – as though one cruelty drives out another, as though suffering is forfeit, and as though we, the observers, must choose between horrors.

I defy even Livingstone to watch this film, in which the Jews, once gassed, become “pieces” – Stücke – and not grasp the overwhelming case for a Jewish place of refuge. Zionism pre-dated the camps, and its fulfilment, if we can call it that, came too late for those millions reduced to the grey powder mountains the Sonderkommandos were tasked with sweeping away. It diminishes one’s sympathy for the Palestinian cause not a jot to recognise the arguments, in a world of dehumanising hate, for Zionism. Indeed, not to recognise those arguments is to embrace the moral insentience whose murderous consequence Son of Saul confronts with numbed horror. 

This article first appeared in the 05 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The longest hatred