Terrorism is publicised for all to see. We are, in turn, part of how these acts are defined and how they define us. In the wake of such incidents, any social media user will come across others casting judgment, worries and solutions – for the most part, in an effort to re-band communities. Yet displays of ignorance and harmful intent are not exactly rare. What’s worse than an offensive statement plastered on social media, is seeing the high number of likes it has garnered.
Given that the current threat level for international terrorism in the UK is still severe, and that attacks are becoming worryingly frequent worldwide, it’s time we develop a deeper understanding of people’s reactions to terrorism.
Why? Because beyond the single terrorist attacks we hear so much about, lies a dangerous ripple effect of race and faith related hate crimes that are fracturing our society – not just Muslim communities – our society as a whole.
In the week after the terrorist attack on Westminster in March, hate crimes reported to the police increased by 12 per cent, mounting to a 34 per cent rise in the following two to three weeks.
Further to the terrorist attack on Manchester arena in May, Tell Mama, a service where people can report anti-Muslim abuse, recorded 141 hate crimes. Greater Manchester Police saw a 505 per cent rise in anti-Muslim hate crime in the month following the attack, compared to the previous year.
The London Bridge attack in June triggered another spike in hate crimes. British Muslims, once again, suffered the brunt of them. Mayor of London, Sadiq Khan, exposed a fivefold increase in Islamophobic attacks and a 40 per cent increase in racially charged incidents compared with the daily average for 2017.
Bear in mind that an immense number of hate crimes, whether online or offline, verbal or physical, go unreported.
So what is it about acts of terrorism that make people want to commit a hate crime themselves? Well, prejudicial attitudes towards Muslims are rife. The Westminster, Manchester and London Bridge attacks did not just prompt paranoia towards Muslims. It fostered feelings of distrust and hostility. The so-called ‘war on terror’, after all, was declared back in 2001.
A poll carried out by ComRes, which took into account the views of 2000 British adults in April 2016, revealed that 43 per cent deemed Islam a negative force in the UK. The younger generation generally showed more understanding and tolerance of Islam, with 43% of 18-24 year olds agreeing with the statement, ‘Islam is compatible with British values’, compared to 31 per cent in all other age groups.
But let’s think about it in another way. Not only do British Muslims, just like the rest of us, have to deal with the fact that they, or their loved ones may get caught up in a senseless terrorist attack. Many also have to come to terms with attacks happening in the countries that they, or previous generations left behind in search of a different life. The countries where their relatives may still be living. They are subject to passive, active, online and offline abuse relating to acts of terror that simply have nothing to do with them. Sophisticated radicalisation tactics are more likely to target them than any community. Surely they are affected by terrorism as much, if not more, than non-Muslims?
Spikes in anti faith and race hate crimes, and the issue of hate crime in general, is complex. The motives behind these acts are born out of various interweaving factors. Among them is an urge to retaliate, however irrationally. But this urge is only made stronger by the legitimisation of discrimination, played out through toxic political rhetoric and tabloids. This grim contribution to hate crime will be explored in my next blog post.
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