Extremism is tearing Britain apart - we should choose hope over hate

Hate crimes against religious groups are no longer isolated incidents but a growing pattern, says Imam Qari Asim of the British Muslim Network. Britain now faces a choice: confront extremism or allow fear to become the new normal

Ideological extremism and hatred cast a long shadow over Britain in 2025 – testing communities, shaking institutions, and demanding resolute action in the year ahead. The past year forced a reckoning with an uncomfortable truth: anti-Muslim hostility and antisemitism have reached alarming levels, threatening not only minority communities but the very idea of a plural, democratic Britain.

In October, worshippers at Peacehaven Mosque in East Sussex gathered for evening prayers when arsonists struck, setting the building ablaze while two people remained inside. Between July and October, the British Muslim Trust recorded at least 27 attacks against mosques nationwide. These were not attacks on bricks and mortar alone; they were assaults on the sense of safety and belonging that Muslim communities rely on to live freely.

Just days earlier, during Yom Kippur, the holiest day in the Jewish calendar, an antisemitic attack at Manchester’s Heaton Park synagogue claimed two lives. These horrors were not isolated incidents. Home Office data shows religious hate crimes reaching record highs by March 2025, with incidents targeting Muslims rising by 19 per cent.

From Newcastle to Watford, Muslim families now weigh everyday decisions many others take for granted: whether children can attend mosque safely, whether a headscarf invites abuse, whether a job application should hide a recognisably Muslim name. Minority communities face similar calculations. When people feel compelled to conceal who they are, freedom itself is diminished.

Global and local narratives intertwine in dangerous ways. The Gaza crisis, marked by mass civilian deaths and obstructed humanitarian aid condemned by the UN and ICRC, reignited trauma for both Muslim and Jewish communities. Though thousands of miles away, its reverberations fractured relationships here at home and created a permissive climate for hate speech against both groups. Too often, legitimate political disagreement became a cover for collective blame.

Migration provided another flashpoint. Since April, anti-immigrant protests and sit-ins have targeted hotels housing asylum seekers. The most chilling moment came with September’s “Unite the Kingdom” march in London, led by far-right activist Tommy Robinson. Under the guise of “free speech” and “British heritage”, marchers chanted “send them back”, wielding Christian symbolism – St George’s flags, wooden crosses, even public prayer – to construct an exclusionary national identity.

This cynical appropriation of Christianity, fused with xenophobia and Islamophobia, went beyond protest and challenged the moral fabric of our society. Faith leaders responded with courage, reaffirming a theology rooted in love and welcome. But moral leadership from the Church must be matched by resolve across politics and civil society.

Hope Not Hate has long warned of this moment. Their monitoring of far-right networks shows how online misinformation, culture-war narratives and economic anxiety are being weaponised to radicalise ordinary citizens. Crucially, Hope Not Hate’s work also demonstrates that extremism is not inevitable: when communities are supported, myths challenged and democratic values defended, hate can be pushed back.

So what must change if 2026 is to succeed where 2025 faltered?

First, Britain needs a robust definition of anti-Muslim hostility and a comprehensive national strategy to tackle it – alongside existing efforts to confront antisemitism and other forms of hatred. Increased funding to secure places of worship and community institutions is not a privilege; it is a basic guarantee of religious freedom.

Second, education must confront prejudice at its roots. Curriculum reform, public awareness campaigns and political leadership that unequivocally disavows hate are essential. Silence or equivocation only emboldens extremists.

Third, the digital sphere demands firmer regulation. Algorithms that amplify outrage and dehumanisation require oversight, and platforms must be held accountable when hate speech spreads unchecked.

Fourth, community cohesion cannot be sporadic or symbolic. Initiatives such as the Light Foundation’s intercommunal dialogues – bringing people across political and religious divides to discuss immigration, refugees and hate speech – prove that honest conversation can sustain empathy even amid deep disagreement. These initiatives, which we hope to scale nationally, deserve sustained support.

Fifth, ideological extremism – whether Islamist or nationalist – must be confronted with precision by those in positions of power and influence. Strategies should distinguish clearly between extremist ideologies and the faith communities they seek to exploit. Like all other communities, British Muslims must also confront regressive cultural practices within our own ranks – not to appease populist critics but to uphold the ethical standards that our faith and the law both demand.

There are grounds for optimism. British Future’s research shows that most Britons want fair, managed immigration and reject divisive rhetoric. Our “Talk Together” programme demonstrates that dialogue can bridge divides, revealing a public appetite for practical solutions rather than polarisation. This quiet majority exists – and it must be empowered.

Looking back at 2025, Britain faces a defining choice. Will distortions of faith and identity, paraded by extremists, define us? Will fear among Muslims, Jews and refugees become an accepted norm? Or will we reaffirm an inclusive national story grounded in shared values and equal dignity?

Hostility never stops with one target. It thrives on division and spreads relentlessly. Our response must be equally resolute: unapologetic protection of freedom of belief, solidarity with minorities, and decisive confrontation of hate in all its forms.

Every time a fellow Brit hides their identity, Britain loses a piece of itself. Hope remains – but hope without action fades. If we are serious about the nation we want to be, 2026 must be the year we turn the tide.

Imam Qari Asim is the co-chair of the British Muslim Network and trustee at Light Foundation, Hope Not Hate and British Future