Yasmin Alibhai-Brown: Does being a Muslim in Britain really mean never questioning our government's policy?

Abysmally bad timing some might say about my last column trying to gain understanding for British Muslims just before the plane plot was exposed. But I think not. I wrote that the intense, relentless focus on a minority of voluble British Muslim men arguably induced them to become the deadly creatures our society fears they are. It is also grossly unfair to most of us Muslims who, in spite of racism, are irretrievably and willingly embedded in this old country, part of its citizenry and institutions.

If anything, the week has only reinforced what I argued, that life for all British Muslims is becoming unbearable.

On Monday, the master of political thuggery, John Reid, claimed Islamicists were a greater menace than the Cold War (with nuclear weapons on both sides) and then came Red Thursday, bringing surging panic and the arrests of many alleged Islamicist terrorists. Most were apparently born and raised in Blighty or were converts, ordinary blokes, we are told, who plotted to blow up several transatlantic flights with makeshift bombs.

Please remember, however, that arrests don't mean proof of anything. That the government cannot be trusted to tell us too many truths. That this came at a time of turmoil for Bush and Blair. That if the police response effectively stopped the attacks, it was only possible because of intelligence provided by Muslims who fear another attack as much as, more even, than the rest of the population.

The allegations fast curdled into unsubstantiated plots, malodorous rumours, fetid conspiracies followed by a collapse of trust again between Muslim and non-Muslim citizens, the biggest casualty.

And so arrived the repellent emails, par for the course since 9/11 if you are a Muslim attempting to stave off the dogs of war on both sides. H.Kent writes: "If you do not like our obsessive focus on Muslims get out of our Christian country".

A man stopped me in the street in Acton and said coldly: "I know who you are. You appear to be one of us but are a terrorist, and an anti-Semite. They should intern the lot of you". He then pushed by me roughly, banging into my shoulder.

Bhupinder Grewal, a Sikh from Hertfordshire, detests whatever I say or write - fair enough, I guess.

But in an exchange of emails this week I realise what lies beneath his disgust: "The Government needs to crack down on Muslim extremists... If you and them are not happy why can't you all just go and live in an Islamic country? I will wait for the day when you are no longer here. After all, what is life for if not to live for the joyous days when the cancer is removed from our society?"

Hardened Islamicists inevitably rejoice at this latest manifestation of the 21st century crusade, relish the toxic unease flushed through the land. They really do believe the Islamic state will one day arrive. If this ever was a possibility, most of us ordinary Muslims, would, I reckon, plunge into the crashing seas around these isles.

We may have many quarrels with Western policies but would rather die than live under any cruel, self- righteous Muslim dictators. And yet it is now assumed that all of us are suspect, the enemy within. And - Catch-22 - well adjusted, contented and successful British Muslims are considered the biggest traitors of all by the powerful in the British state.

A new abominable social contract is being offered to us. If you Muslims want to be accepted here, you must be totally compliant, agree to all government policies and measures, submit to media onslaughts and blackmail, refrain from protests or complaints and we may just let you be. Otherwise, be prepared for an endless conflict or a life in the shadowy margins where you will be kept confined and contained.

Now you understand the outraged reactions to the challenging open letter to Tony Blair signed by some Muslim MPs, Peers and organisations: "Current British policy risks putting civilians at risk both in the UK and abroad. The debacle of Iraq and now the failure to do more to secure an immediate end to the attacks on civilians in the Middle East not only increases the risk to ordinary people in that region, it is also ammunition for extremists who threaten us all. Attacking civilians is never justified". Every word of this missive is careful and correct.

It is concerned for all civilian victims, in the Middle East and elsewhere. It never claims violence is justified but asks Blair and co to understand the draw of violence to people who feel the injustice of our foreign policies.

Kim Howells, 10 Downing Street and Margaret Beckett have hit back, full of colonial hubris, calling the letter facile and dangerous. Yet many white Britons in public life share these anxieties. Had, say, Baroness Kennedy, Simon Jenkins and Ken Livingstone penned such a letter, would the response have been as contemptuous and paranoid?

If we are in this together, and we are meant to be real democrats, why are Muslims who quite legitimately dissent considered inimical to the national interest?

What the hell are we meant to do pushed around, staggering between these demands and pressures?

On Thursday evening, as London continued to be filled with trepidation and confusion, I went to the Victoria and Albert Museum where the SKY TV Artsworld channel was making some uplifting films for a special celebration of the beautiful new Islamic Gallery funded by an Arab businessman, Mr Mohammed Jameel.

They are due to be broadcast later this month. I was to record introductions to three programmes, to describe the ecstatic space and objects which make me proud of my heritage.

As the museum was closing down, I stood before an exquisite, conical blue tiled fireplace from Iran when a Muslim man shuffled up, huge with a hanging wispy beard, wearing a creamy cotton kurtha with stained armpits. Scary, if I am honest. By him, his wife was tiny. A baby was asleep in a pram and three young boys stood quietly.

Then he started to talk in beautifully enunciated Hindi and Urdu, his aggressive masculinity dissolving into poetic melancholy. "See what we were, what we could do, my love, my life. What happened to us? Our hands could make the smallest petals from metals, now it is bombs. Our hearts were full of song, we thought the English knew us as children of Abraham. What can we do now? Where will we go?"

His wife reached out with her arm, adorned with lovely gold bangles and touched his cheek. As I left, the sky was darkening and police sirens were screaming through Kensington. His mood stayed with me and the overwhelming questions too. What do blameless British Muslims do now? Where do we go?

y.alibhai-brown@independent.co.uk

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