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Why aren’t universities doing more to counter systematic anti-Muslim discrimination?

TW: This article addresses sensitive issues such as islamophobia and racism.

Universities tend to be presented as hubs of critical thinking and open-mindedness, spaces where you should be able to thrive and develop regardless of who you are. There are more than 230,000 Muslims studying at university, making up around 8-9% of the student population.  Muslims make up a sizeable minority in the student population, which is why it is so crucial to talk about how universities interact with and treat their Muslim students. Are universities doing enough to recognise the need for awareness when it comes to their Muslim students and listening to any negative experiences they may have?

Anti-Muslim attitudes are growing in our society. The 2018 British Social Attitudes Survey found that in response to a ‘personal attitude’ question, 17% of respondents (the highest percentage) were ‘very’ or ‘somewhat’ negative towards Muslims. These attitudes exist at all levels of our society; all the Muslims I know have had at least one negative experience or encounter in their lifetimes. As a recent graduate, I felt a need to address how these attitudes have transferred into academic structures, particularly when it is institutional.

There’s a major problem involved with how institutions view anti-Muslim attitudes. Often, expression of these attitudes by senior members of staff is excused using the label of ‘free speech’. There is a lack of clarity about what exactly constitutes Islamophobia and this ignorance makes it easier for individuals and institutions to get away with, or deny, allegations. We have made some progress here with London Metropolitan University becoming the first university in November 2020 to adopt the APPG (All-Party Parliamentary Group) definition of Islamophobia which is as follows:

 “Islamophobia is rooted in racism and is a type of racism that targets expressions of Muslimness or perceived Muslimness.”

Although this is progress, the very recent nature of this adoption shows how there is still such a long way to go. As a student, interactions with lecturers/staff do have a power imbalance, and often ethnic/religious minorities feel more vulnerable because it is incredibly difficult when reporting an instance of Islamaphobia involves not just standing up against one lecturer/member of staff, but against an entire institution.

I am in no way singling out particular lecturers/university staff here, however, the power dynamics within university institutions make it a lot more difficult to report instances of Islamophobia or other hate crimes.

For this article, I decided to reach out to Muslims who are currently in university or have been in university. I asked them to shed some light on whether they felt included/seen at university and if they had any negative experiences. The answers I received are as follows:

Responses from Muslim university students.

“It is disgusting that individuals in positions of power feel comfortable and legitimised enough to act in this manner.”

These responses all speak for themselves and illustrate a pervasive, underlying issue: a lack of awareness and accountability. This is made more potent by the fact that the majority of perpetrators were in positions of power. It is disgusting that individuals in positions of power feel comfortable and legitimised enough to act in this manner. To me, it reflects the nature of our society right now, where Muslims who speak out are often called dramatic or are told that there is a non-issue.

Being a visible Muslim at university meant that all of my interactions had an added dynamic: people have pre-conceived ideas of you before you even open your mouth to speak to them. In a course where there weren’t many other Muslims or ethnic minorities, my hijab was always the focal point. Many times, this was made uncomfortably clear, especially when I was asked questions with the expectation that I was a learned scholar speaking for all Muslims and Islam just because I was wearing a hijab.

In one of my interactions with a lecturer, I was asked some very offensive, ignorant questions about Islam which completely left me reeling. I was understandably disgusted and brought it up with another member of staff. This individual’s response completely floored me; she outright told me I was being too ‘sensitive’ and the comments were ‘harmless’. This individual completely gaslighted me to the point where I actually thought that maybe I was just being dramatic. There was no awareness, no support, nothing. It really hit me then: even in hubs of knowledge, ignorance is still so widespread.

“In my own university, our Muslim community witnessed the effects of Prevent policy on a daily basis.”

If we talk about structural Islamophobia, we have to talk about Prevent policy. Prevent policy has been designated by the government to reduce and recognise extremism. In a Prevent environment, notably in academic settings where members of staff are asked to be on the lookout for suspicious behaviour, Muslim students are increasingly the target of any designated measures. In my own university, our Muslim community witnessed the effects of Prevent policy on a daily basis. Our Islamic Society lectures (and informal events!) were all recorded, translating into the wider hyper-surveillance of Muslim communities generally.

Sometimes, you feel as if you have to self-censor and hold back certain elements of your identity so as not to arouse suspicion (e.g. practising religion openly). A recent report on Muslims and Islamophobia in academic settings found that Prevent policy in universities had the effect of  “discouraging free speech”. If the principle of free speech only applies when it is weaponised against Muslims, is it really free or fair?

There has to be a mutual level of trust and respect, as well as more knowledge on how structural Islamophobia and racism operate. There is so much misconception, fear and suspicion surrounding Islam & Muslims; spreading awareness of our lived experiences and working together to challenge hatred, in whatever form, is the first step to creating spaces where ‘inclusion’ is not just a buzzword, but a reality.

Khadijah Hasan

Featured Image courtesy of Toa Heftiba on Unsplash. No changes were made to this image. Image license found here.

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