Rabina Khan is one of the most influential politicians in the east London borough of Tower Hamlets, where she serves as a Liberal Democrat councillor. She is married with three children and is proudly working-class. She came to the UK from Bangladesh aged three when her father started working as a docker in Chatham. She writes regularly for The Independent, The Guardian and the Huffington Post and has delivered lectures at the University of Cambridge and the Royal Society of Arts for BBC Radio 4. In an exclusive interview with Asian Voice, she spoke about being a South Asian woman in British politics, the Race Commission report, and her book ‘My Hair Is Pink Under This Veil. Here are few selected excerpts:
On being a woman of South Asian origin in British politics in 2021
For the past three decades or so, it has been hijab-wearing women who have endured the most harassment and Islamophobia, experiencing far more discrimination, verbal and abuse and even physical attacks, particularly in the aftermath of terrorist attacks. Unfortunately, this has been fuelled by political rhetoric linking Islam to terror and some newspapers and politicians’ negative portrayal of Muslim communities. Therefore, despite the prejudice I have faced, it has been tremendously empowering to work in a predominantly white, male arena and be able to challenge and disprove the stereotypes and inspire other women of colour to do the same. I feel honoured to be a political voice for Muslim and ethnic minority women, whilst promoting community cohesion.
Impact of racism on women from ethnic minorities
I came to the UK in 1975 aged 3, we grew up in Rochester where once we were the only family of colour living on our street. I moved to Tower Hamlets in 1991 and began my working career in London. One of the main challenges my mother faced back in 1975 was “coloured integration”, as she termed it – her everyday experience of struggling to be accepted as a woman of colour in a predominantly white area.
My mother tried to integrate into British society with quiet dignity, even when racists called her a “Paki”, or a “coloured bitch”. She was often elbowed out of line in the supermarket. The cashier would look down her nose at her and speak loudly as if she were deaf, repeating things when it was perfectly clear that she understood.
Racism towards ethnic minorities has a tremendous impact on women in every aspect of their lives – personally, professionally, medically and socially. Following the 1986 bombing of Libya, when I was a teenager, a bus driver shut the door in my face and told me to go back to Libya, whilst he allowed my white school friends on the bus. It was humiliating and tremendously upsetting. This is just one example of the personal prejudice I have faced throughout life, but there are thousands of ethnic minority women who encounter bigoted attitudes like this every day. It affects employment prospects, access to healthcare, and living standards. Black women in the UK are four times more likely than white women to die in pregnancy or childbirth. A recent survey found that a higher proportion of ethnic minority women expected to be in more debt as a result of the pandemic than White women, and I meet such women every week in my councillor surgery. The Office for National Statistics showed that Pakistani and Bangladeshi women’s unemployment rates were over three times as high as for White British women.
Her take on the Race Commission report
Refusing to acknowledge that the problem exists is an indirect form of racism in itself. The report failed to include the genuine experiences of people of colour and what we perceive as racism, whether in school, the workplace, or within our health services. An accurate, unbiased report cannot be compiled without interviewing and including the experiences of those affected. When my husband moved to London with our extended family, we discovered that when we tried to rent, estate agents would increase the prices when they heard our names, but the prices remained the same when white potential renters called to rent. This is a problem that I still see today within the community.
Hijab as a symbol of a modern Muslim woman’s personal style and strength
Although many people view the hijab as a symbol of oppression and something that is forced upon Muslim women, it is very much a personal choice. Women who choose to wear it are demonstrating their resilience, as they know that it will make them more of a target for discrimination and abuse. Therefore, they show immense fortitude in continuing to wear it with pride, and doing so with style, combining it with modest, fashionable clothes in a myriad of colours. Muslim women do not just wear the hijab; they have built a whole fashion style around it.
We are currently seeing how Muslim women’s fashion is influencing the Western world. Many well-known brands, including Mango, Zara, DKNY, Dolce and Gabbana and Tommy Hilfiger have designed modest clothing, and high street stores such as M&S, Debenhams and H&M are offering similar ranges. L’Oreal’s campaign Yours Truly also included a Muslim woman wearing a hijab. Muslim women are proving that modesty and beauty are completely compatible.
What do we as a community need to learn and teach our men in order to empower women in prestigious roles like Rabina?
Community hubs and their involvement in bringing about change is particularly relevant in tackling problems and prejudice relating to women. Traditionally, mosques have been male-dominated establishments, but today women have much greater involvement. In their ‘Mosques in Communities’ project, which set out to understand the role of mosques in relation to their local communities’, the Mosques and Imams National Advisory Board said that if faith-based centres ‘rise to the challenge of becoming community hubs’, transforming their buildings into venues where people can socialise and organise activities and projects for the benefit of the local community, ‘they can bring about real change’, promoting better relations between neighbours, bringing local people together, encouraging volunteering and civic responsibility, and fostering democracy.
The Women in Mosque’s Development Programme (WIMDP) was launched in 2018-19 to offer bespoke training sessions across the UK to high-potential upcoming female leaders, to support them in becoming trustees, committee members and project officers of their local mosques.
It is initiatives like these that need to be developed nationally to educate communities, and empower women.
Message for aspiring writers among South Asian women
Be proud of who you are. Ignore the critics. Believe in yourself. Seek out others with similar aims for support and encouragement. There are wonderful organisations such as Muslim Women’s Network (MWMUK), where Muslim women can “have an effective voice and the opportunity to exercise their rights to contribute equally”. Writing is extremely cathartic. Even if you don’t intend, initially, for your words to be read by anyone else, that should not stop you from writing. You never know where it might lead, who you might help, or how it might help you. Our lived experiences are our strength – I know because I have been able to overcome setbacks, we must search within ourselves for strength, resilience, and that ultimate belief that we can keep going. We have got this.
Muslim women are often accused of not integrating, but it is not so much a question of not wanting to integrate as of facing difficulties integrating – and, often, being equally criticised for integrating successfully. Many Muslim women have faced challenges through pre-judgement, particularly those wearing the hijab, because of the false stereotype that insists Islam is incompatible with gender equality and female empowerment.
Rabina Khan’s upcoming book ‘My Hair Is Pink Under This Veil’ will be published by Biteback Publishing on May 20, priced £16.99.
