Faith as a Bridge: Confronting Anti-Muslim Hatred/ Islamophobia in the UK

I grew up in apartheid South Africa, where racial divisions were enforced by law, yet faith often transcended these barriers. Communities of different religions shared faith celebrations of Eid, Diwali and Christmas side by side, with equal joy. Faith was a bridge, not a barrier.

So, when I moved to the UK and first heard the word Islamophobia, I was stunned. It was a concept I had never needed to understand. How could something so alien to my experience be so entrenched here? The promise of diversity felt real on the surface, but beneath it, I began to sense the reality of the fear, the misunderstanding and the distance.

A growing crisis: Islamophobia in the UK

Islamophobia in the UK is not an abstract concept-it’s a lived experience. There  have been 6,313 reports of anti-Muslim hate in 2024, an alarming 73% increase in Islamophobic assaults. Each report represents more than a statistic: it is a moment of fear, humiliation and exclusion that someone has had to endure.

They are people. They are families. They are lives being shaped by the weight of suspicion, ignorance and hate. The Muslim woman in a job interview, sensing the interviewer’s hesitation when they see her hijab. The bearded man being watched by security guards more closely in a shop. The woman trying to book a taxi that mysteriously cancels when it sees a “foreign” name. The child bullied at school for their faith. The feeling of constantly having to prove that they are one of the ‘good Muslims’ – even if they are well-known celebrities in the public eye.

These daily indignities aren’t just frustrating. They are exhausting. They chip away at the right to move through the world without suspicion or scrutiny and at the feeling of being welcome in the place they call home. And the indignities aren’t random. They are the product of a society where Islamophobia is embedded into the economic and social structures that are supposed to provide opportunity.

The role of politics and the media

This didn’t happen overnight. It has been stoked, fed and allowed to fester.

There are politicians who use dog whistles as campaign slogans. Politicians who deploy  calculated rhetoric, legitimise hidden prejudices as debate and who push policies that disproportionately target Muslim communities under the guise of security.

For years, sections of the mainstream media have reinforced a toxic narrative—casting  Muslims as the perpetual other, as threats, as subjects of suspicion. A single crime committed by a Muslim – or someone assumed to be Muslim – makes front-page headlines,  a supposed confirmation of every stereotype. Meanwhile, attacks against Muslims often go under-reported and are dismissed as isolated incidents.

The impact of Islamophobia

Time and time again, we’ve seen far-right groups gain momentum, emboldened by fearmongering and misinformation. Online echo chambers fuel conspiracy theories until they spill into the real world with bricks through mosque windows and fists raised in anger. The riots of Summer 2024 and attacks on mosques in 2025 are stark reminders of how hate moves from words to action.  Yet all too often, politicians and media legitimise far-right hate under the banner of “free speech” and “balanced discussion.”

According to Equi, an emerging think tank drawing on British Muslim insights, British Muslims are three times more likely to leave the UK– not in search of opportunity, but to escape the weight of religious discrimination. We must  ask ourselves- what kind of society are we creating?

When we allow hate to grow, it doesn’t stop at one community. It seeps into everything. It erodes the very fabric of who we are and what we claim to stand for.

A path forward

Despite these challenges, there are moments of hope.

The UK government has highlighted commitments to Muslim communities on the global stage, marking the International Day to Combat Islamophobia at the UN.  These include over £1 million to monitor Islamophobia and support victims of anti-Muslim hate crimes, the launch of a new working group to provide a definition of anti-Muslim hate and Islamophobia, and funding to analyse Inter-Faith week. London’s Ramadan lights, public iftars and high-profile inter-faith initiatives  show the possibility of a different future, one where diversity is not just tolerated, but celebrated.

So, what can we do, individually and collectively?

• Stronger political accountability: The government must move beyond rhetoric and ensure real action against Islamophobia- funding independent monitoring organisations, enacting stronger hate crime laws and addressing institutional discrimination.
• Responsible media representation: Journalists and editors must ensure balanced reporting that does not reinforce stereotypes or disproportionately stigmatise Muslim communities.
• Public engagement: Those who aren’t Muslim can be active allies- challenging stereotypes, reporting hate speech and engaging with local Muslim communities.

I know division is not inevitable. It is a choice. And just as it is chosen, it can be unchosen by those willing to see beyond fear, beyond prejudice, beyond the barriers we build between each other. The South African concept of ubuntu– “I am because we are,” offers a powerful alternative to the fear-driven narratives we see today.

This is about more than fighting prejudice. It is about building a society where future generations can embrace every part of their identity without fear. A society where faith is, once again, a bridge.

Melani Nair is a marketing consultant, writer, and passionate advocate for diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI). Growing up in apartheid South Africa, her personal journey has shaped her deep commitment to social justice and human rights. Through storytelling, Melani challenges the status quo, encouraging bold conversations around race, identity, and belonging. With over 15 years of experience, she has driven transformative DEI campaigns, authored impactful leadership reports, and created platforms for meaningful dialogue in influential spaces. Melani’s work is rooted in the belief that lasting change comes when organisations move beyond surface-level diversity discussions, working towards a future where unity, understanding, and shared humanity guide the way forward.

The views expressed in Equi Comments pieces reflect the author’s perspective and do not necessarily represent the views of Equi. We provide this platform to encourage dialogue on broad themes related to our work, from diverse perspectives.