Oldknow Academy, one of the Birmingham Schools under inquiry. Photo: Getty
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In the so-called “Trojan horse” debacle, Birmingham schools have become Gove’s sacrificial lamb

The problem in these schools is not an issue of radicalisation.

Are there problems in some of the schools at the centre of the so-called “Trojan horse” debacle? Certainly there are.

Having spoken at length with various members of the community in Birmingham, there are undeniable concerns among certain – yes, including Muslim – students and parents pertaining to a narrow interpretation of Islam being enforced within some schools. There are also allegations of mismanagement, nepotism and of the misuse of funds. The detail of these issues is likely to emerge in upcoming reports.

But what the problem is not, is an issue of radicalisation. Rather, attempts to link the problems to radicalisation reflect an expansion of the counter-terrorism agenda to the policing of socially conservative views among some Muslims and the effects of this policy are likely to be disastrous.

The entire affair has been worrying on many levels, not least in the language used to report the story. Several outlets have referred to a “Muslim plot” – would that be all Muslims plotting to take over our schools? The uncritically regurgitated term “Trojan horse”, a term widely employed by the far-right, while the Times ran a headline “Gove told to launch dawn raids on schools”, with the implicit suggestion that the schools were being raided for terrorism-related activities. The man at the centre of it all, Michael Gove, opted for dehumanising imagery in his call to “drain the swamp“ in reference to the Muslim community – a swamp which, if one accepts the analogy, would be harbouring the crocodiles. None of this can or should be understood outside of the rise in support for the xenophobic UKIP or a rise in racism. There is a broader climate in which both the media and politicians operate and feigning ignorance of it doesn’t mitigate the reception of this terminology.

The narrative, despite denials to the contrary, has been that schools have been infiltrated by extremists who are at risk of radicalising Muslim children. The remedy? “Prevent” teaching, as recommended by Ofsted, in order to inoculate them. As if by virtue of being Muslim, children should be assessed as potential terrorists who require early intervention to stop them jumping on the conveyor belt of violence. There couldn’t be any more damning indictment of this government’s engagement with communities than its choice to identify individuals on the basis of a reified conception of their identity, rather than as multifaceted citizens. These children are Muslim, but that doesn’t mean they’re potential radicals, despite what the demonising front cover of the Spectator might suggest. They’re also brummies, British and Asian and African, they’re football fans and aspiring entrepreneurs. The lens which brands them a potential “risk” is itself a grave threat to social cohesion.

Underlying this stigmatising view of Muslim identity is the assumption that the source of radicalisation is a given interpretation of Islam which has widespread enough traction within our society, that it could be openly taught within several schools, with the complicity of parents, students and officials. It’s also an insight into a flawed counter-terrorism strategy, the so-called conveyor belt theory, which assumes that socially conservative views can represent the first step on a broader path to terrorism. In fact, studies suggest that a strong religious identity is an important bulwark against the risk of radicalisation. The profile of the 7/7 bombers, politically radicalised by the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan but otherwise not particularly devout, alleged to have been smoking cannabis and drinking alcohol – suggests a far more complex understanding of radicalisation is required. A perfect illustration of this confusion is the classic scene in the cult film Four Lions when the police raid the house of the devout, big-bearded brother of the true terrorist, Riz Ahmed’s character, rather than his and his Lion King-watching, clean-shaven, “modern” family. In so doing, they like Gove and his allies, confuse illiberal, conservative religious views with extremism, itself usually a very modern reinterpretation of Islam.

Meanwhile, the neo-conservative voices within the Tory party continue to push an unsubstantiated view of radicalisation. In July 2010, a leaked government memo concluded that it was wrong “to regard radicalisation in this country as a linear ‘conveyor belt’ moving from grievance, through radicalisation, to violence…”. Although foreign policy isn’t the only catalyst for terrorism, in her evidence to the Chilcot inquiry, the former head of MI5 Eliza Manningham-Buller said that the invasion of Iraq had radicalised a new generation of young British Muslims, highlighting the centrality of conflicts abroad in the motivations of extremists. Ultimately the journey to terrorism is a complex one which cannot be easily situated on a neat continuum. Despite this, Gove has been pressing ahead for a crackdown on nonviolent, as well as violent, “extremists”, a strategy which in its current form involves casting the net so wide as to try and encompass entire communities, alienating and stigmatising whole sections of society in the process.

I have no interest in defending some of the practices reported in these schools. I think music and drama should remain on the curriculum. I think trips abroad cannot implicitly exclude any students. And I think vetting speakers who address children is essential. But I will not accept that the over-reach of a number of zealous governors, who advocate a socially conservative view of Islam in their schools, represents a threat requiring a national existential soul search and a crackdown on all Muslims.

What this affair does indicate is the failure of the application of neo-liberal “laissez-faire” principles to education. On the subject of academies, Gove spoke of giving schools more freedom, specifically by ensuring they could opt out of the type of supervision previously guaranteed by local authority control. Academies and free schools give communities the power to define their own curriculum and ethos and yet when we consider that ethos to be at odds with our educational ideals, we denounce those who are merely making use of provisions made available through this policy. This is where a brouhaha over the shortening of days during Ramadan for example, or of the cancelling of tombola and raffles in schools with an overwhelmingly Muslim student body, is less evidence of a nefarious plot than of anti-Muslim prejudice. Academies and free schools have been given the sort of autonomy which allows them to do exactly this.

And this is also why there is an issue of double standards. Politicians have been at pains to claim this is not a Muslim issue. The truth is, there are many indications that even before any reports had been compiled, the DoE were treating any problems found within these schools through the lens of counter-terrorism, rather than an internal educational concern. The decision to appoint the head of the inquiry into 7/7, Peter Clarke, to investigate and give repeated warnings of an “extremist plot”, even when Birmingham council had themselves dismissed the anonymous letter as a fabrication, set the tone. What should have been evaluated as the likely pitfalls of an ill thought through educational scheme, has been painted as a stealth takeover by radicals. The message this sends to Muslims is loud and clear – your participation in the public sphere will be afforded intense scrutiny and any suggestion that your moral values might be influencing your work risks you being branded an extremist. One Muslim governor of an “outstanding” rated school in east London told me: “I always thought engaging with public institutions was a good thing. After all this, I worry that saying I’m a governor and a Muslim will evoke suspicion about my ‘agenda’.”

As someone educated in the French educational system, I cannot wrap my head around the idea of allowing different communities to define their own notion of education. Education is a critical tool of socialisation: it imbues us as citizens with a sense of our national identity and priorities, and it cements a shared narrative of common purpose. It is precisely this socialising experience which fosters a sense of collective values and ideals, however disputed their ultimate definition may be. Government failures in providing a streamlined educational framework which would ensure all children receive an education to standards we as a society deem beneficial, are what is truly to blame here. A truly liberal society accepts the right to voice illiberal views. It might however, not wish to create the conditions for them to devise their own curriculums and run publicly-funded schools.

But the real tragedy here is the damage done to community relations, to trust and to the willingness of Muslims to engage in a system which seemingly paints the participation of the devout as a part of a stealth takeover. After years of telling Muslims to engage in public institutions, the damage caused by the government’s hawkish mischaracterisation of this issue will reverberate in years to come.

Myriam Francois-Cerrah is a freelance journalist and broadcaster (France, Middle East and North Africa, Islam) and a DPhil candidate in Middle Eastern studies at Oxford University.

All photos: India Bourke
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“They cut, we bleed”: activists Sisters Uncut protest closures of women's services

 “Our blood should not pay for our rape.”

Over 500 domestic violence survivors and support workers processed through central London this weekend. The protest, staged by the feminist direct action group Sisters Uncut, mourned the women’s services that are losing out as a result of the government's austerity drive.

Since November 2014 the group has occupied streets, burned copies of the Daily Mail, and hijacked the Suffragette film premiere. But on Saturday the mood was somber. In Soho Square the group staged a symbolic funeral service. Attendees stood in a protective circle, fists raised, while members took turns to read out the names of the scores of women who’ve been killed by men in the past year:  “Anne Dunkley, 67; Nadia Khan, 24; Lisa Anthony, 47…”. The youngest was just 14 years old.

The service culminated in a promise “to never forget” the dead, and also to protect the living: “We must love and support one another; we have nothing to lose but our chains".

As the protestors passed St Martins in the Fields Church, dressed in black veils and funeral attire, the crowd of passers-by broke into spontaneous applause. “It gave me goosebumps”, Caroline, an activist and former victim of abuse told me. “You expect people on the march to be supportive but not the people on the street. I’ve been on other marches and people normally complain about you being selfish and blocking up the streets but this response makes you feel like people do  care.”

The show of public support is especially welcome in the aftermath of the Chancellor’s Autumn Statement. Cuts to local authority budgets have already led to the closure of over 30 domestic violence services since 2010, including Eaves, a charity that provided services for single, low-income and vulnerable women.

Further erosions to local council budgets will only put more services and lives at risk, activists say. Also of concern is Osborne’s decision to devolve responsibility for raising a social care tax (of up to 2 per cent on council tax) to local authorities. This tips hostility to tax increases away from central government to local authorities, and could place greater pressure on women’s services to compete for funding.

The Chancellor offered a supposed silver lining to the cuts with the promise that VAT money raised from the EU’s compulsory tax on sanitary products will be ringfenced for women’s charities, such as the Eve Appeal and Women’s Aid.

The implication, however, that only women are to pay for helping the victims of domestic violence was met with derision from Sisters Uncut. As the marchers approached their final destination in Trafalgar Square, red dye turned the square’s famous fountains the colour of blood. “This blood won’t wash the blood from Osborne’s hands,” read one tampon-draped banner; “Our blood should not pay for our rape”, read another.

For those on the march, the cuts are an affront on many levels. All those I spoke to worked in some form of public service; everything from housing to foster care. But some have had to move out of the women’s services sector for the lack of funding.

Louisa used to work for a domestic violence service in London until it was forced to close last month. “I’m here because I’ve witnessed first hand what the cuts are doing to women and how much the organisations are having to squeeze what they can provide.”

All public services have legitimate claims to support - from the 14-strong police team that escorted the marchers, to the sweepers who were left to dredge the protesters’ roses out of the fountains and brush away the tampons that had fallen from their banners.

The danger, however, according to Caroline, is that the needs of domestic violence victims are all too easy to sideline: “This is by its nature something that goes on behind closed doors,” she says. As funding tightens, these voices musn’t be squeezed out.

Sisters Uncut is an intersectional group open to all who identify as women. The national domestic violence helpline offers help and support on 0808 2000 247. Members of the LGBT communities can also access tailored support from Broken Rainbow on 0800 9995428.

India Bourke is the New Statesman's editorial assistant.