The wave of far-right, racist violence that has convulsed England and Northern Ireland in recent weeks is not a freak occurrence. It is the inevitable consequence of a society that has allowed the poisonous ideologies of racism and xenophobia to take root and spread unchallenged for decades.
As Kehinde Andrews, professor of Black studies at Birmingham City University, incisively pointed out in his recent interview with openDemocracy, these riots are the physical manifestation of a "mainstream political discourse" that has relentlessly demonised immigrants and ethnic minorities, blaming them for all of Britain's ills. When successive governments and influential media outlets have spent years pushing the pernicious narrative that Britain is under siege from dangerous foreigners who are stealing jobs, draining public resources, and eroding cultural identity, we cannot profess shock when that rhetoric explodes into ugly violence on our streets.
But while it may be comforting to dismiss the perpetrators of this violence as a marginal group of "racist thugs" or "far-right extremists," the disturbing reality is that they are merely acting out, in stark and brutal terms, the prejudices and biases that suffuse our society at every level. Racism in Britain is not an aberration confined to a few twisted individuals; it is a systemic disease woven into the very fabric of our national life.
The evidence of this deep-rooted institutional racism is all around us, if we are willing to look. It is there in the grossly disproportionate rates at which people of colour are stopped, searched, arrested and prosecuted by our police and courts. It is there in the dehumanising treatment meted out to asylum seekers and refugees, who are demonised as "invaders" and "scroungers" even as they flee unimaginable horrors. It is there in the persistent educational and employment disparities that see ethnic minorities disadvantaged and held back at every stage of life.
Yet even now, as the ugly face of racism rampages openly through our communities, there are those who would rather engage in semantic quibbling than confront the root causes of this crisis. Some commentators have argued vociferously that the term "terrorism" must be applied to the racist rioters, as if attaching a provocative label to their actions will somehow make the hatred and bigotry underpinning them disappear.
Others have sought to paint this outbreak of violence as a uniquely English pathology, conveniently ignoring the long histories of racism, colonialism and white supremacist ideology that Scotland and Wales are also implicated in.
These attempts at deflection and distraction only serve to obscure the real issue at the heart of these riots - which is that Britain has a deep, long-standing racism problem that it has consistently failed to acknowledge or address. For far too long, we have allowed the toxic politics of racial resentment and xenophobic scaremongering to infect our public discourse and our national psyche, creating an environment in which hatred and prejudice can fester and grow.
Until we are willing to have that difficult but necessary reckoning with the racism that pervades our society, and take concrete, systemic action to dismantle it, we will remain trapped in these cycles of racial violence and division.
But even in the midst of this bleak and troubling moment, there have been heartening glimmers of hope and humanity. Across the country, brave anti-racism protesters have taken to the streets to stand up to the far-right mobs, putting their own safety on the line to affirm the values of tolerance, diversity and human rights. In the aftermath of racist attacks on mosques and community centres, armies of volunteers from all walks of life have come together to clean up debris, repair damage, and show solidarity with the targeted communities.
Online fundraising campaigns to support affected groups and individuals have been flooded with donations from ordinary Britons sickened by the hatred on display and eager to help in any way they can.
These inspiring acts of empathy, compassion and shared humanity are not random or anomalous. They spring from what the psychologist Steve Taylor has termed our innate capacity for "connection" - the deep-seated understanding that we are all fundamentally linked by our common humanity, and that the suffering of any one group diminishes us all. It is this recognition of our profound interdependence, and the sense of moral duty that flows from it, that has driven so many to reach out across lines of race, religion and background in a powerful show of unity against hate.
In many ways, the battle playing out on our streets and in our political discourse is a battle between these two visions of what kind of society we want to be. On one side are those who would stoke the fires of racism and xenophobia for their own cynical ends, seeking to divide us along lines of race, nationality and religion in a bid to maintain their grip on power. They peddle a bleak, exclusionary vision of a Britain that is closed, fearful, and hostile to difference in all its forms.
On the other side are those who recognise that our diversity is our greatest strength; that a society built on empathy, inclusion and respect for all is not only morally right but essential to our shared flourishing in an interconnected world. This is the vision that has animated the anti-racist counter-mobilisation, and that must guide us as we seek to build a better, fairer Britain out of the ashes of this crisis.
The road ahead will not be an easy one. Confronting the deep-rooted realities of racism in our society will require painful self-reflection, hard conversations, and a willingness to challenge entrenched systems of power and privilege. It will demand that we reckon honestly with the complex legacies of empire, colonialism and immigration that have shaped modern Britain, and work to build new narratives of national identity that celebrate our diversity rather than fear it.
But this is the essential work that we must undertake if we are to have any hope of forging a society that truly lives up to our professed ideals of equality, justice and shared humanity. The racist riots that have shaken Britain are a stark warning of the dark future that awaits us if we continue to let the politics of hate and division hold sway. Let them also be a clarion call to all who believe in the transformative power of empathy, solidarity and human connection.
It is only by nurturing these values, and allowing them to guide our public and political life, that we can hope to build a Britain that is truly inclusive, just and at peace with itself. This is the great moral challenge of our time – and it is one that we must all rise to meet.
William Gomes, a British-Bangladeshi anti-racism campaigner, advocate for the rights of displaced people, and a contributor to various publications. He can be reached at [email protected]. Follow him on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/williamnicholasgomes and on X at https://twitter.com/Wnicholasgomes.