The government must engage with Muslim students

Islamic student societies are challenging extremism.

Prime Minister Cameron claimed in his Munich speech that not only had multiculturalism failed, but that certain parts of British society (Muslims mainly) had been divisive in their influence rather than integrating properly into the fabric of "British values", the lack of which leads to extremism and radicalisation, or so the cloudy logic goes.

The question of integration is particularly problematic. British Muslim communities are characterised by low educational attainment and poverty, yet many bright lights have broken barriers in contributing positively to British society. Take the example of Usman Ali, the first-ever Muslim Vice President of the National Union of Students (NUS) from the humble neighbourhood of Longsight in Manchester, an inspiring tale and, most encouragingly not an isolated example.

Bright lights aside, there is a need to promote this sort of aspiration and contribution on a wider scale and in light of this the national Muslim student body, the Federation of Student Islamic Societies (FOSIS), has sought to establish a British civic responsibility amongst British Muslim students. From artistic to political leadership events, inclusive of both Labour and Conservative representatives, we have arranged career events with city firms, technology giants, and media outlets - a good attempt in associating Muslim students to opportunities that make a beneficial difference to Britain.

This summer, FOSIS worked closely with the Civil Service in connecting its wider membership to the corridors of government,engaging with students in Cardiff. This is integration by exactly its narrowest definition; providing for aspiring young Muslims from difficult backgrounds with access to work for the betterment of the people of their country through political engagement.

However, just days ahead of another joint FOSIS-Civil Service careers engagement in London on Tuesday, the event was cancelled from the darker corners of government. As reported by former Tory MP Paul Goodman on ConservativeHome, this happened on account of the "fury" of the Home Secretary, Theresa May. He detailed two reasons for her reaction; FOSIS' "insufficient willingness to tackle extremism", and its support of a human rights campaign.

On the accusation of cultivating extremism by neglect, umentioned is any recognition of the consistent steps taken by FOSIS to engage with key stakeholders, including government, on the issue of radicalisation on campus, an example being the widely acclaimed conference organised by FOSIS on countering extremism, the first of its kind and graced by government, security experts and university leaders alike.Also on record is FOSIS' half-century of fostering engagement between Muslim students and students' unions, universities and students of other faiths; of supporting a spirit of discussion and dialogue and intellectual integrity within Muslim groups. The allegation isslanderous, implying as it does that FOSIS fosters and promotes extremist elements. The absence of evidence is deafening.

The Babar Ahmad issue is even more contentious. Here is a man, a citizen of this very land, held without charge for seven years in high security prisons on evidence deemed unworthy in British courts, fighting extradition to kangaroo courts in the US who will probably incarcerate him to Supermaxfacilities for the rest of his natural life. FOSIS, together with a host of British organisations, is simply supporting his right to due legal process, that he be tried in a court in this country. Indeed,"British values" signify social justice, to protect the rights of individuals and of society, and our very democracy in the hands of citizens gives the right to force the government, our elected representatives, to debate the extradition of this man in parliament.

The government continues to up its rhetoric on integration and extremism, making frivolous claims whilst laying the blame at the doorstep of FOSIS and other Muslims organizations, yet its deeds in policy formation and in cancelling events such as the above are counterproductive to any notion of integration. The Home Secretary's decision to ignore an invitation to meet Muslim students in June is also restatement to this. It is time the government stopped demagoguery and started engaging; organisations like our own and students at large will continue championing British contribution, with or without them.The disconnect between the political elite and its citizens continues apace.

Nabil Ahmed is the president of the Federation of Student Islamic Societies.

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Why is it called Storm Doris? The psychological impact of naming a storm

“Homes being destroyed and lives being lost shouldn’t be named after any person.”

“Oh, piss off Doris,” cried the nation in unison this morning. No, it wasn't that everyone's local cantankerous old lady had thwacked our ankles with her stick. This is a different, more aggressive Doris. Less Werther’s, more extreme weathers. Less bridge club, more bridge collapse.

This is Storm Doris.

A storm that has brought snow, rain, and furious winds up to 94mph to parts of the UK. There are severe weather warnings of wind, snow and ice across the entire country.

But the real question here is: why is it called that? And what impact does the new Met Office policy of naming storms have on us?

Why do we name storms?

Storm Doris is the latest protagonist in the Met Office’s decision to name storms, a pilot scheme introduced in winter 2015/16 now in its second year.

The scheme was introduced to draw attention to severe weather conditions in Britain, and raise awareness of how to prepare for them.

How do we name storms?

The Name our Storms initiative invites the public to suggest names for storms. You can do this by tweeting the @metoffice using the #nameourstorms hashtag and your suggestion, through its Facebook page, or by emailing them.

These names are collated along with suggestions from Met Éireann and compiled into a list. These are whittled down into 21 names, according to which were most suggested – in alphabetical order and alternating between male and female names. This is done according to the US National Hurricane Naming convention, which excludes the letters Q, U, X, Y and Z because there are thought to be too few common names beginning with these letters.

They have to be human names, which is why suggestions in this list revealed by Wired – including Apocalypse, Gnasher, Megatron, In A Teacup (or Ena Tee Cup) – were rejected. The Met Office received 10,000 submissions for the 2016/17 season. According to a spokesperson, a lot of people submit their own names.

Only storms that could have a “medium” or “high” wind impact in the UK and Ireland are named. If there are more than 21 storms in a year, then the naming system starts from Alpha and goes through the Greek alphabet.

The names for this year are: Angus (19-20 Nov ’16), Barbara (23-24 Dec 2016), Conor (25-26 Dec 2016), Doris (now), Ewan, Fleur, Gabriel, Holly, Ivor, Jacqui, Kamil, Louise, Malcolm, Natalie, Oisín, Penelope, Robert, Susan, Thomas, Valerie and Wilbert.

Why does this violent storm have the name of an elderly lady?

Doris is an incongruous name for this storm, so why was it chosen? A Met Office spokesperson says they were just at that stage in their list of names, and there’s no link between the nature of the storm and its name.

But do people send cosy names for violent weather conditions on purpose? “There’s all sorts in there,” a spokesperson tells me. “People don’t try and use cosy names as such.”

What psychological impact does naming storms have on us?

We know that giving names to objects and animals immediately gives us a human connection with them. That’s why we name things we feel close to: a pet owner names their cat, a sailor names their boat, a bore names their car. We even name our virtual assistants –from Microsoft’s Clippy to Amazon’s Alexa.

This gives us a connection beyond practicality with the thing we’ve named.

Remember the response of Walter Palmer, the guy who killed Cecil the Lion? “If I had known this lion had a name and was important to the country or a study, obviously I wouldn’t have taken it,” he said. “Nobody in our hunting party knew before or after the name of this lion.”

So how does giving a storm a name change our attitude towards it?

Evidence suggests that we take it more seriously – or at least pay closer attention. A YouGov survey following the first seven named storms in the Met Office’s scheme shows that 55 per cent of the people polled took measures to prepare for wild weather after hearing that the oncoming storm had been named.

“There was an immediate acceptance of the storm names through all media,” said Gerald Fleming, Head of Forecasting at Met Éireann, the Irish metereological service. “The severe weather messages were more clearly communicated.”

But personalising a storm can backfire. A controversial US study in 2014 by PNAC (Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences) claimed that hurricanes with female names lead to higher death tolls – the more “feminine” the name, like Belle or Cindy, the higher the death toll. This is not because female names are attached to more severe storms; it is reportedly because people take fewer steps to prepare for storms with names they perceive to be unintimidating or weak.

“In judging the intensity of a storm, people appear to be applying their beliefs about how men and women behave,” Sharon Shavitt, a co-author of the study, told the FT at the time. “This makes a female-named hurricane . . . seem gentler and less violent.”

Names have social connotations, and affect our subconscious. Naming a storm can raise awareness of it, but it can also affect our behaviour towards it.

What’s it like sharing a name with a deadly storm?

We should also spare a thought for the impact sharing a name with a notorious weather event can have on a person. Katrina Nicholson, a nurse who lives in Glasgow, says it was “horrible” when the 2005 hurricane – one of the fifth deadliest ever in the US – was given her name.

“It was horrible having something so destructive associated with my name. Homes being destroyed and lives being lost shouldn’t be named after any person,” she tells me over email. “I actually remember at the time meeting an American tourist on a boat trip in Skye and when he heard my name he immediately linked it to the storm – although he quickly felt guilty and then said it was a lovely name! I think to this day there will be many Americans who hate my name because of it.”

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.