Britain’s counterproductive counterterrorism

MANCHESTER, England — At the entrance to Didsbury mosque in south Manchester, roses, lilies and tulips lay clustered around a collection of cards.

The mosque had been attended by Salman Abedi — the bomber who killed 22 people, including children, at an Ariana Grande concert in the city last month. As a result, it had been portrayed by the press as a gateway to terror and placed under police protection after receiving a series of threatening messages.

But the cards carried a different sort of communication: offers of support from the community surrounding the mosque. “We hope you know British Christians stand with you …” read one. “These terrible events won’t divide us, they should make us closer” read another.

For Manchester’s Muslims, such messages came as a relief, and a powerful balm for the position in which they found themselves after the deadly bombing. In addition to the risk of another attack, Manchester’s Muslims have had to worry about retaliatory violence — a very real fear,  as the attack near a North London mosque last week that specifically targeted Muslims showed.

Hate crime reports doubled in the immediate aftermath of the Manchester attack, and a Manchester police chief suggested that such incidents may be under-reported for fear of reprisal. And on top of all that, British Muslims have had to contend with the fact that violent extremists are preying on their communities, in pursuit of new recruits to their death cult.

Community leaders point out that communication with authorities needs to be a two-way street.

This last detail is one that is often missed in the wake of tragic terror attacks. Muslims are repeatedly told to “do more” to counter terror — as if their communities do not already have ample reason to tackle extremism, and are not already doing as much as possible.

Long-established in Manchester, the world’s first industrial city, the Muslim community is visibly engaged: running food banks, football clubs, feeding the homeless, and volunteering in community centers, care homes, hospices and sheltered housing.

Some of this work is run through the Muslim-led outreach organization Myriad, where trustee Ghulam Esposito Haydar noted that while projects don’t always take place under a counter-radicalization banner, the focus on community engagement and social cohesion inevitably supports such efforts.

The Didsbury mosque where Salman Abedi is said to have prayed

Cohesion is also the focus at the British Muslim Heritage Centre, in the south of the city, whose current exhibition, Stories of Sacrifice, celebrates the contributions of Muslim soldiers in World War I. The idea is to show Muslims and non-Muslims alike that this community is both integrated and an integral part of British society.

But in Manchester, many are also frustrated by the government’s counter-radicalization strategy. Abedi, the bomber, had fought in Libya and had been reported to authorities five times, including by a community support worker after he said “being a suicide bomber is OK.”

According to Qadir Chohan, chair of the Manchester Council of Mosques, which represents over 70 mosques, that information should have been passed on to the community — and in particular to the imam of the Didsbury mosque where Abedi had prayed. Had its leaders been made aware of the danger, they could have kept a watchful eye on Abedi, Chohan said.

Community leaders point out that communication with authorities needs to be a two-way street — with actionable information, as well as more resources and training, flowing back to the community.

A successful counter-radicalization effort needs to move beyond mosques — and look beyond simple security concerns. Causes of radicalization include mental health issues, social isolation and the lack of a feeling of belonging. As such, efforts to counter extremism need to be holistic, including the creation of better facilities and activities for young people and outreach to youth and social agencies.

Myriad’s Hayder says a significant part of countering extremism is creating safe spaces for conversations about concerns or political grievances, something that many counter-radicalization efforts prevent.

Many Muslims worry they cannot openly express opinions on politics or foreign policy, for fear of bringing unwanted scrutiny. And so these types of conversations risk going underground, where they are harder to monitor and more likely to take turns toward extremism.

Indeed, the British government’s counter-radicalization program Prevent is seen by many as a surveillance program for Muslims, who have dubbed it  “MI5-Islam” after the U.K.’s intelligence service.

Everyone agrees on the fact that we need a government program to counter radicalization. Just not the one that is currently in place.

The government’s approach, in place since the London bombings of 2005, has come under criticism from many quarters, including the U.N.’s special rapporteur on the rights to freedom of peaceful assembly and of association, who last year warned: “By dividing, stigmatizing and alienating segments of the population, Prevent could end up promoting extremism, rather than countering it.”

Britain’s terror watchdog has described the program as counter-productive and called for a review. Meanwhile, doctors, teachers and professors have warned that the government’s reliance on public bodies to detect “signs of radicalization” is a bad idea, arguing that they are not equipped to do so. It has also created a climate of suspicion and alienation, and shut down free speech, they say.

And yet despite these complaints, the U.K. government has stuck to the program, announcing plans to “boost” Prevent in the wake of the Manchester attacks. Those who raise concerns are cast as somehow undermining the fight against terror. This does them — and their communities — a disservice. Everyone agrees on the fact that we need a government program to counter radicalization. Just not the one that is currently in place.

Rachel Shabi is a U.K.-based journalist, author and broadcaster.