Focus: The Muslims next door

What does it mean to be a Muslim in today's Britain? Events over the past week have made that question harder than ever to answer.

What does it mean to be a Muslim in today's Britain? Events over the past week have made that question harder than ever to answer.

On Monday, a young British Muslim, Saajid Badat, admitted plotting the suicide bombing of a passenger plane - although he was ultimately unable to go through with the attack. Then, 16-year-old Shabina Begum won her case against Denbigh High School in Luton, which had forbidden her to wear the jilbab - a head-to-toe traditional dress.

The following day we learnt that officers at the Feltham young offenders institute routinely betted on a game of "gladiators", in which Asian prisoners and known racists were forced to share cells. An inquiry heard that, in 2000, the game had cost 19-year-old Zahid Mubarek his life when he was battered to death.

Finally, the Home Office minister Hazel Blears said people of "Islamic appearance" must accept being stopped and searched "disproportionately" - in the interest of public safety. Her fellow Labour MPs were said to be "hopping mad" at her intervention, which was denounced as insensitive by Muslim spokesmen.

Together these events and statements focused attention on British Muslims. But the group is far from being a homogeneous one. How much does a poor, elderly Muslim in Bradford who cannot read or write English have in common with a middle-class medical student in west London, who goes to raves at the weekend but refuses to drink alcohol?

Ms Begum's court victory set off a debate not only in Britain as a whole, but among British Muslims themselves, about whether there is such a thing as "Muslim culture".

Fareena Alam, editor of the Muslim magazine Q News, says: "I think we make the mistake of talking about the 'Muslim community', as if the communities were all the same.

"I'm very happy for Shabina, but I'm upset about the whole case. The jilbab is an Arab dress. It is completely wrong to suggest that the shalwar kameez is not [an Islamically] proper dress. And it is wrong that we have to compete with Arabs to be [considered] proper Muslims."

Fauzia Ahmed, a research fellow in sociology at Bristol University, thinks the issue is not Islamic, but cultural, adding: "A lot of Muslim women are very tired of the idea that what they wear is the single most important and defining issue for them."

Coming soon after Tony Blair talked of "several hundred" people in Britain intent on terrorism, Ms Blears' comments have again raised the spectre of all Muslims being regarded as potential terrorists.

"It is hard to believe there are not other motives behind Hazel Blears' comments," says Inayat Bunglawala, a spokesman for the Muslim Council of Britain. "Are they using Muslims as an easy target to scare the public?"

But is there such a thing as a British Muslim identity? All that can be said, according to Dr Khalid Anees, a senior NHS executive who holds offices in a number of Muslim organisations, is that the Muslim community is in a state of evolution - but so is Britain as a whole.

"Rather than seeing British or Muslim identity as something that must be preserved as a historical relic," he says, "we should see all identity as something that is constantly adapting, in response to the events and circumstances it comes into contact with."

While a Muslim presence is changing Britain, in other words, Britain is also changing the Muslims who live here.

Merryl Wyn Davies is a Welsh Muslim and co-author of 'The No-Nonsense Guide to Islam' (Verso)

The medical student

Faisal Hanjra, 21, Barts hospital, London

If I wasn't a Muslim I would be scared of what I'm reading in the papers. Post 9/11, people have developed a fear of Islam. A lot of parents and grandparents talk of racism when they came here. Now it's about religion, not the colour of your skin. People do not understand Islam. I can understand why Hazel Blears would say that, but it just helps the far right to say: this is why Muslims should be targeted. I passionately feel British. To be a Muslim in Britain is not an inherent contradiction.

The management consultant

Jeffery Beere, 32, Hampstead, London

My mother is Iranian so I'm mixed race, but I feel English. Being a Muslim is the most important thing in my life. It gets me up in the morning and it affects the way I approach my job and charity work. But I will be stopped at passport control and double-checked. If there are people who are going to do something stupid, they're not going to go there with a long beard and Arab dress. It's counterproductive. I think if we start accepting it as a part of life [as Hazel Blears suggests], we've lost out.

The property manager

Ragad Altikriti, 32, Leeds

As soon as you start to target a certain type, they feel victimised. Young people who could have been integrated become ghettoised, and that damages the society we want to create. I'm from Iraq but I play a leading role in the community here. We have 22 languages in the same mosque but we try not to differentiate. I feel my religious beliefs blend me in well with British society. In Britain we're blessed that we don't have the problems of our friends in Europe. Society can be very welcoming.

The charity campaigner

Robina Qureshi, 37, Glasgow

We are seen as potential terrorists. People think we are part of the Taliban or one of Osama's lot. We get abuse on the street. Now the Government is basically saying, "We have a right to terrorise you." We feel under more threat than ever. How are we supposed to feel allegiance to this country? I'm not British; I'm a Muslim. I feel that more strongly now than three years ago. I'm proud of it and will not be cowed. I have never felt this was my home because of the experience of racism and now Islamophobia.

The teacher

Wahid Anwar, 34, Slough

Hazel Blears' comments were complete ignorance on her part. At the airport the other day, I got to the front of a queue of about 200 people, and the security guard said, "Random security check." I said, "It's amazing you've decided randomly to check the first Muslim in the queue. Why am I more random than most?" I'm standing there in a suit, I'm a professional; I speak better English than Joe Smith down my road and I contribute more to my country. She has no right to say that. I'm a Muslim with a British passport. I'm a Muslim before anything else, but that's an inclusive, not an exclusive thing.

The paralegal

Layla El-Wafi, 24, Bloomsbury, London

My mother is Egyptian and my father Libyan, and I grew up in America. In Ohio, where there were few Muslims, I was often singled out to share my culture - something I was happy to do. After 9/11, a friend said to me, "If I didn't know you, I would hate Muslims and Arabs." It makes me shiver. When I'm in the Middle East I have to defend Western societies - and vice versa. I live in Britain now because I married an Englishman. In America I felt I was part of a Muslim community. British culture is to keep more to yourself - we're still looking for our community.

The student teacher

Lucy Bushill-Matthews, 33, Woking, Surrey

I converted to Islam when I was 19. I had come across some great Muslims and some awful ones and I wanted to know more. There is a clear moral code, which a lot of people could benefit from. My parents weren't overjoyed when I converted but they have accepted it and they seem happy enough with how the grandchildren are being brought up. Prejudice has certainly got a lot worse and the media are partly to blame. People think, "You're OK, but the others..." The parents at a local school recently wouldn't even allow their children on a school trip to a mosque. It really surprised me.

The barrister

Aisha Alvi, 29, Manchester

Shabina Begum's case is a landmark decision. My sister and I were suspended for wearing our headscarves at school. In those days it wasn't as common and people didn't understand. Islam is a way of life, not something that's just brought out on a Friday night. Hazel Blears' comments are very worrying. Property prices in places like Pakistan, where my parents are from, are the highest ever because so many people are moving back. It's getting worse by the day. We have live news and Guantanamo Bay is allowed to happen? This is 2005 - it's not 1940.

The company director

Suleman Nagdi MBE, 48, Leicester

I was born in Malawi, then grew up in Zimbabwe. I've been in Leicester since 1976. Despite the drawbacks I am proud to live in a multicultural and diverse country. The cohesion between Asian, African and European cultures makes us economically and culturally rich. The Court of Appeal decision upholding the right of a Muslim girl in Luton to wear the jilbab to school will go a long way to make Muslims feel secure. We have been too quick to judge world events. We have been sold the idea of a "war on terror" but we do not understand what this means. Islam cannot be correlated with terrorism. My faith teaches me to value the sanctity of life.

The editor

Fareena Alam, 26, Bloomsbury, London

I was born in London and grew up in Singapore. My parents are Bangladeshi. My husband and I had wedding receptions in London, Singapore, Bangladesh, Pakistan... Hazel Blears is saying what lots of people are thinking. A lot of Muslims also feel, post 9/11, that we should have done more to stop these loons doing things in our name. I don't really feel I belong to a "Muslim community". I'm Bengali but I'm completely different from a Bengali from Tower Hamlets - I'm definitely middle class. But I've always been proud to be a global citizen. And I think the Muslim community is slowly coming to terms with the fact that it's OK to be proud to be British, too.

Interviews by Steve Bloomfield and Katy Guest