Zubir Ahmed, Minister of Health, tries not to read the comments on his social networks, but sometimes curiosity gets the better of him.
After performing a transplant on Christmas Day, the vascular surgeon read a publication about the operation.
He recalled: “It went viral on the Internet, but I had never seen anything like abuse. There was one comment that caught my attention that simply said, ‘Thanks for the transplant, now go home.'”
For the parliamentarian, who, as parliamentary under-secretary of state for innovation and health security, is one of two Muslims in government, such comments reflect Islamophobic abuse which he says has worsened in recent decades.
He warned that a new shift had occurred in the past nine months in the Overton window – the range of ideas considered acceptable in the general population – in terms of the “extraordinary conversations” being had about identity and race.
“We are now in a space where, to be honest, I have young children and I can’t say for sure that their lives, in terms of living in society on equal terms, are better than what I had as a child. It’s a really sad thing to see,” he said.
However, she told The Guardian that the government’s announcement this week of a definition of anti-Muslim hostility was a turning point that could mean a better future for her children and others.
“It’s telling them there’s a problem and validating their existence in this country,” Ahmed said.
The new three-paragraph definition says anti-Muslim hostility includes engaging in criminal acts directed against Muslims because of their religion, or against those perceived to be Muslims. The definition, which was launched alongside a new action plan to strengthen social cohesion, also cited harmful stereotypes and illegal discrimination.
But it has been criticized by opponents, including conservatives, who described the definition as too broad and said it risked creating a backdoor blasphemy law.
Ahmed insisted that language is “the correct diagnosis of the disease”: Islamophobia. He recalled how he and his friends experienced racism based on the color of their skin while growing up in the Govan area of Glasgow before he felt British society was on what he described as “an irreversible path to progress” in the 2000s. This changed after 9/11, the war on Iraq and the terrorist attacks, he said.
“It wasn’t the only thing: vested interests were trying to dehumanize Muslims,” he said, but noted that those events rippled through society at large, “and then you found yourself in the middle of a storm.”
The definition, he insisted, captures the type of Islamophobia that he and other British Muslims increasingly face since the Iraq war and other events. Recorded cases of hatred against Muslims have also increased in recent years. Of the religious hate crimes recorded by police in England and Wales in the year ending March 2025, 4,478 (45%) targeted Muslims, compared to 3,866 in 2023-24.
Responding to conservative criticism, Ahmed said: “It’s not about blasphemy laws or anything like that. This is anti-Muslim hatred, which has a racial element. It’s about looking visibly Muslim or if you have, for example, a ‘Muslim sounding name’ then you are less likely to be chosen for a job.”
Ahmed said he sometimes gauges the mood on the street by wearing “visibly Muslim attire” and monitoring reactions.
“It still manages to attract attention in a way it wouldn’t have 10 years ago. If I’m on the street with family members who wear veils, you can see the change in people. The stares just linger a little longer than before.
“I don’t blame people, because they are being inundated and attacked every minute of the day with algorithmic content that leads them to question the role of Muslims in society. That is why this (the social cohesion strategy) is a multiple approach and the definition of the diagnosis is one part.”
