Knee-jerk Islamophobia: why Trevor Kavanagh is wrong about British Muslims

This kind of evidence-free, stereotype-laden assault on the British Muslim community has got to stop, says Rob Ford.

On 6 August, after an extraordinary night in the Olympic Stadium, the Sun's Oliver Harvey was moved to write: "A ginger bloke from Milton Keynes, a mixed race beauty from Sheffield, an ethnic Somali given shelter on these shores from his war-ravaged homeland. This is what Britain looks like today. Three Britons from wildly different backgrounds that gave this generation its 1966 moment." His colleague Anila Baig added: " We’ve heard a lot about belonging and loyalty and allegiance, Muslim first or British first. On Saturday Mo Farah gave us the answer: British Muslim and proud proud proud."

What a difference four months make. As summer sun gives way to winter snow, Sun Political Editor Trevor Kavanagh has posted an editorial painting a rather different picture: "Yes Africa is a terror hotbed, but fanatics are here too." There is no evidence of any British Muslim involvement in, or support for, the atrocities taking place in Algeria, but Kavanagh isn't going to let that inconvenient fact stand in the way of a broadside against the British Muslim community whose most prominent athletics representative his paper was recently lionising.

Out come the usual myths and misrepresentations. We are told Britain is home to hundreds of thousands of Muslims from all over the world, but warned "not all are grateful. Indeed, some are outspokenly defiant". We are not told what they are supposed to be grateful for, or what they are defiant of , which complicates any effort to analyze this bizarre claim, but how about this for starters: Do Muslims identify with Britain? Are they proud of British democracy and institutions? Are they integrated into British political and social life? Yes, yes, and yes.

As my colleagues and I have shown in a report for the government's Migration Advisory Committee, Britain's Pakistani and Bangladeshi heritage populations (the bulk of the British Muslim population) are more likely than white native born Britons to say they belong in Britain, and more likely to express trust in the British Parliament. Other research has shown that British Muslims rate being British as central to their identities, and are more likely to express pride in Britain than other groups, something Kavanagh's own newspaper noted "shatter[s] the myth that Muslims are not patriotic". In Kavanagh's world, British Muslims are resentful and defiant. Out in the real world of evidence, a world reported by his own news desk, Muslims are proud British citizens, often more attached to British culture and institutions than other groups.

Then there is the vexed issue of integration. Kavanagh, echoing the notorious comments of Trevor Phillips, raises the spectre of segregated, Muslim-dominated inner city districts: "One London borough is so staunchly Muslim it has become known as the Islamic Republic of Tower Hamlets." Really? I don't know who  refers to Tower Hamlets this way (and Kavanagh doesn't enlighten us) but it strikes me as an odd way to characterise a borough which the most recent census recorded was 32 per cent Bangladeshi, 31 per cent white British, 12 per cent white other, and 25 per cent from a host of other heritages including African, Caribbean, and Chinese. Tower Hamlets is not an "Islamic Republic". In fact, Muslims constitute just over a third of the population, and are massively outnumbered by those who are either Christian or state no religion at all, as Kavanagh would have known had he bothered to visit the Tower Hamlets website before smearing a whole London borough. The community Kavanagh demonizes as a ghetto of Muslim fanatics is in fact a proud melting pot of multiple ethnicities and faiths, where no group dominates. It is (to quote the Olympics-era Sun) "what Britain looks like today".

Even if segregation were a problem (which it generally is not), it is not clear what would satisfy Kavanagh as a solution. Maybe Muslims could integrate by moving away from areas where they are concentrated towards more homogenously white areas, something University of Manchester census analysts have shown all ethnic minority groups have been doing? This won't do for Kavanagh, who attacks it as Muslims "colonising the suburbs". Leaving aside the absurd labelling of people often born and raised in Britain as "colonisers", it is not obvious what Muslims caught in Kavanagh's Islamophobic catch-22 are supposed to do. If they stay in the inner city areas to which their families first migrated, they are attacked as setting up segregated "Islamic Republics". If they set out for the suburbs they are attacked as "colonisers" looking to impose their values on others. No matter that neither bears any resemblance to the everyday truth of ordinary, hard working Muslim families looking for decent, affordable homes, good schools and regular contact with friends and relatives, just like everyone else.

This kind of evidence-free, stereotype-laden assault on the British Muslim community has got to stop. In an era when all the relevant evidence is available at the click of a mouse, it is not acceptable for a senior journalist at the nation's most read paper to make demonstrably false claims about one of its largest minority communities. Kavanagh's article is irresponsible rabble-rousing of the worst kind. What a shame he didn't think to talk to his more informed colleagues from the Olympics press-pack before launching into this ugly tirade.

Rob Ford is a lecturer at the University of Manchester politics department

Members of the Muslim community shopping in Whitechapel in London. Photograph: Getty Images

Rob Ford is a lecturer at the University of Manchester politics department.

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Meet the hot, funny, carefree Cool Mums – the maternal version of the Cool Girl

As new film Bad Moms reveals, what the cool girl is to the diet-obsessed prom queen, the cool mum is to the PTA harpy.

I suppose we should all be thankful. Time was when “mum’s night off” came in the form of a KFC value bucket. Now, with the advent of films such as Bad Moms – “from the gratefully married writers of The Hangover” – it looks as though mums are finally getting permission to cut loose and party hard.

This revelation could not come a moment too soon. Fellow mums, you know all those stupid rules we’ve been following? The ones where we think “god, I must do this, or it will ruin my precious child’s life”? Turns out we can say “sod it” and get pissed instead. Jon Lucas and Scott Moore said so.

I saw the trailer for Bad Moms in the cinema with my sons, waiting for Ghostbusters to start. Much as I appreciate a female-led comedy, particularly one that suggests there is virtue in shirking one’s maternal responsibilities, I have to say there was something about it that instantly made me uneasy. It seems the media is still set on making the Mommy Wars happen, pitching what one male reviewer describes as “the condescending harpies that run the PTA” against the nice, sexy mummies who just want to have fun (while also happening to look like Mila Kunis). It’s a set up we’ve seen before and will no doubt see again, and while I’m happy some attention is being paid to the pressures modern mothers are under, I sense that another is being created: the pressure to be a cool mum.

When I say “cool mum” I’m thinking of a maternal version of the cool girl, so brilliantly described in Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl:

“Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer, loves threesomes and anal sex, and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth like she’s hosting the world’s biggest culinary gang bang while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot.”

The cool girl isn’t like all the others. She isn’t weighed down by the pressures of femininity. She isn’t bothered about the rules because she knows how stupid they are (or at least, how stupid men think they are). She does what she likes, or at least gives the impression of doing so. No one has to feel guilty around the cool girl. She puts all other women, those uptight little princesses, to shame.

What the cool girl is to the diet-obsessed prom queen, the cool mum is to the PTA harpy. The cool mum doesn’t bore everyone by banging on about organic food, sleeping habits or potty training. Neither hyper-controlling nor obsessively off-grid, she’s managed to combine reproducing with remaining a well-balanced person, with interests extending far beyond CBeebies and vaccination pros and cons. She laughs in the face of those anxious mummies ferrying their kids to and from a multitude of different clubs, in between making  cupcakes for the latest bake sale and sitting on the school board. The cool mum doesn’t give a damn about dirty clothes or additives. After all, isn’t the key to happy children a happy mum? Perfection is for narcissists.

It’s great spending time with the cool mum. She doesn’t make you feel guilty about all the unpaid drudgery about which other mothers complain. She’s not one to indulge in passive aggression, expecting gratitude for all those sacrifices that no one even asked her to make. She’s entertaining and funny. Instead of fretting about getting up in time to do the school run, she’ll stay up all night, drinking you under the table. Unlike the molly-coddled offspring of the helicopter mum or the stressed-out kids of the tiger mother, her children are perfectly content and well behaved, precisely because they’ve learned that the world doesn’t revolve around them. Mummy’s a person, too.

It’s amazing, isn’t it, just how well this works out. Just as the cool girl manages to meet all the standards for patriarchal fuckability without ever getting neurotic about diets, the cool mum raises healthy, happy children without ever appearing to be doing any actual motherwork. Because motherwork, like dieting, is dull. The only reason any woman would bother with either of them is out of some misplaced sense of having to compete with other women. But what women don’t realise – despite the best efforts of men such as the Bad Moms writers to educate us on this score – is that the kind of woman who openly obsesses over her children or her looks isn’t worth emulating. On the contrary, she’s a selfish bitch.

For what could be more selfish than revealing to the world that the performance of femininity doesn’t come for free? That our female bodies are not naturally hairless, odourless, fat-free playgrounds? That the love and devotion we give our children – the very care work that keeps them alive – is not something that just happens regardless of whether or not we’ve had to reimagine our entire selves to meet their needs? No one wants to know about the efforts women make to perform the roles which men have decided come naturally to us. It’s not that we’re not still expected to be perfect partners and mothers. It’s not as though someone else is on hand to pick up the slack if we go on strike. It’s just that we’re also required to pretend that our ideals of physical and maternal perfection are not imposed on us by our position in a social hierarchy. On the contrary, they’re meant to be things we’ve dreamed up amongst ourselves, wilfully, if only because each of us is a hyper-competitive, self-centred mean girl at heart.

Don’t get me wrong. It would be great if the biggest pressures mothers faced really did come from other mothers. Alas, this really isn’t true. Let’s look, for instance, at the situation in the US, where Bad Moms is set. I have to say, if I were living in a place where a woman could be locked up for drinking alcohol while pregnant, where she could be sentenced to decades behind bars for failing to prevent an abusive partner from harming her child, where she could be penalised in a custody case on account of being a working mother – if I were living there, I’d be more than a little paranoid about fucking up, too. It’s all very well to say “give yourself a break, it’s not as though the motherhood police are out to get you”. Actually, you might find that they are, especially if, unlike Kunis’s character in Bad Moms, you happen to be poor and/or a woman of colour.

Even when the stakes are not so high, there is another reason why mothers are stressed that has nothing to do with pressures of our own making. We are not in need of mindfulness, bubble baths nor even booze (although the latter would be gratefully received). We are stressed because we are raising children in a culture which strictly compartmentalises work, home and leisure. When one “infects” the other – when we miss work due to a child’s illness, or have to absent ourselves to express breastmilk at social gatherings, or end up bringing a toddler along to work events – this is seen as a failure on our part. We have taken on too much. Work is work and life is life, and the two should never meet.

No one ever says “the separation between these different spheres – indeed, the whole notion of work/life balance – is an arbitrary construct. It shouldn’t be down to mothers to maintain these boundaries on behalf of everyone else.” Throughout human history different cultures have combined work and childcare. Yet ours has decreed that when women do so they are foolishly trying to “have it all”, ignoring the fact that no one is offering mothers any other way of raising children while maintaining some degree of financial autonomy. These different spheres ought to be bleeding into one another.  If we are genuinely interested in destroying hierarchies by making boundaries more fluid, these are the kind of boundaries we should be looking at. The problem lies not with identities – good mother, bad mother, yummy mummy, MILF – but with the way in which we understand and carry out our day-to-day tasks.

But work is boring. Far easier to think that nice mothers are held back, not by actual exploitation, but by meanie alpha mummies making up arbitrary, pointless rules. And yes, I’d love to be a bad mummy, one who stands up and says no to all that. Wouldn’t we all? I’d be all for smashing the matriarchy, if that were the actual problem here, but it’s not.

It’s not that mummies aren’t allowing each other to get down and party. God knows, we need it. It’s just that it’s a lot less fun when you know the world will still be counting on you to clear up afterwards.  

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.