Voice of British Muslim Women

Danila Jonnud, Hampshire

Everyone wishes to live in a utopian society, being able to live lives free from monetary greed, from ignorance, from prejudice, injustice, violence, destruction, poverty, inequality. To live in a society where all people have equal rights, respect, and liberty. We look at history and think “life without these terrible qualities would be perfect” and then we spend our time, wishing, hoping, praying, that it will come to pass, that we will wake up one day to a changed world where we can live freely and in happiness.

You see, in many aspects of life, we tend to strive towards perfection even with the full knowledge that it’s impossible. Indeed, in Islam, the state of being perfect can only belong to God. I don’t mean everyone in this world is a perfectionist, but that perfection is a standard and those who don’t wish completely for that, will at least settle for getting as near to it as they believe they can. Regardless of it being unachievable, we often still strive towards it.

And that’s why a utopian society is a dream. Because between us flawed humans, we know that complete perfection is impossible for us, and have made it okay not to be perfect, which is a good thing unless we’re talking about our society. In this world, the perfect becomes unattainable due to its perfection, so sometimes we just settle.

But the imperfections of today’s society should not be settled for.

I was born and bred in Britain, where schools teach the country’s core values as being Democracy, Rule of Law, Respect and Tolerance, and Individual Liberty. In other words, our British values are the core values of most fictional utopias. Indeed, to my granddad and my father, these were one of the many draws of this country, when life in Pakistan no longer felt like a home with a viable future. In this country, my granddad worked in pharmaceuticals for over 40 years, spending the majority of his adult life here. I don’t know of there being a “British Dream” but if there is, he definitely fulfilled it. For him, the grass was in fact greener here on the other side.

My grass however – the same grass he planted – is beginning to wither at the tips, as utopic dreams feel more unattainable as time goes on.

Growing up in an area with little diversity, being one of only three non-white children in my Primary School, the struggle to form a true identity of my own was difficult to say the least, and though I thought it would get easier as I grew, it seems each new year brings similar struggles.

My family that migrated here for a better life, is achieving that dream, it’s true, only the fears do return with the next generations. In recent days, the apprehension around leaving the house even just to grocery shop, and the advice to wait for a calmer climate, has struck my very core.

My very British core.

Being a young Muslim girl and being British are not – despite what the recent “protests” may say – mutually exclusive, because both Britain and Islam contain similar core values. In fact, being Muslim, I’m used to prejudice, but being British, I’m still shocked when faced with it, because it was my white British teachers that taught me to respect the rights and freedoms of other people.

In other words, Britain was always sold to me as a utopia when growing up. My family, my school, and the blessings I received always reminded me that I was fortunate to be here. So, being made to feel like an outsider in the country where I was born and raised, the country I’m going to university in, the country I root for in the Olympics more than any other in the world, just feels like the opposite of progression towards that collective and very human utopian dream.

Utopian dreams are fragile. They rely on hard work, endurance, and huge change, which can often be more uncomfortable than living with “the lesser of two evils”. They require belief in “why not?” as in “why not create the society we want”. And above all, they need faith and hope for better.

In a world of main character syndrome, far right riots, and fearing the worst, hope still remains in all dreams, whether it’s getting into that university, achieving footballing glory as a nation, planning to see friends at the weekend, winning gold medals, or just praying to God for strength.

As long as we don’t settle for less, even striving towards a perfect dream can bring about better things, because it gives us something to hope for, and with hope we won’t abandon ourselves to despair at the world’s worst qualities. Trying to stay respectful and tolerant whilst using our democratic rights to freely campaign for better, is the best way towards that utopian dream.

And, funnily enough, I believe in this twofold, because I am Muslim, and because I am British.

You see, all human cultures treasure hope for a utopia, because all humans have hope for better.