the established order’. 2
The question of Islamophobia in Charlie Hebdo ’s representations of Muslims, particularly veiled Muslim women, is instead intricately and deceptively linked to the issue of laïcité. Deceptively, because Charlie Hebdo weaponised and constrained laïcité , while itself becoming a tool for free speech absolutists. The editorial of Gérard Biard, editor-in-chief, published in the Charlie Hebdo survivors’ issue (the first issue after the attack), further stressed the theme of laïcité as both the magazine’s raison d’être and its
In May 1958, and four years into the Algerian War of Independence, a revolt again appropriated the revolutionary and republican symbolism of the French Revolution by seizing power through a Committee of Public Safety. This book explores why a repressive colonial system that had for over a century maintained the material and intellectual backwardness of Algerian women now turned to an extensive programme of 'emancipation'. After a brief background sketch of the situation of Algerian women during the post-war decade, it discusses the various factors contributed to the emergence of the first significant women's organisations in the main urban centres. It was only after the outbreak of the rebellion in 1954 and the arrival of many hundreds of wives of army officers that the model of female interventionism became dramatically activated. The French military intervention in Algeria during 1954-1962 derived its force from the Orientalist current in European colonialism and also seemed to foreshadow the revival of global Islamophobia after 1979 and the eventual moves to 'liberate' Muslim societies by US-led neo-imperialism in Afghanistan and Iraq. For the women of Bordj Okhriss, as throughout Algeria, the French army represented a dangerous and powerful force associated with mass destruction, brutality and rape. The central contradiction facing the mobile socio-medical teams teams was how to gain the trust of Algerian women and to bring them social progress and emancipation when they themselves were part of an army that had destroyed their villages and driven them into refugee camps.
This book explores representations of queer migrant Muslims in international
literature and film from the 1980s to the present. It brings together a variety
of contemporary writers and filmmakers of Muslim heritage engaged in vindicating
same-sex desire from several Western locations. The book approaches queer
Muslims as figures forced to negotiate their identities according to the
expectations of the West and of their migrant Muslim communities. It coins the
concept of queer micropolitical disorientation via the work of Gilles Deleuze
and Félix Guattari, Sara Ahmed and Gayatri Gopinath. The author argues that
depictions of queer Muslims in the West disorganise the social categories that
make up contemporary Western societies. The study covers three main themes:
queer desire across racial and national borders; Islamic femininities and
masculinities; and the queer Muslim self in time and place. These thematic
clusters examine the nuances of artistic depictions of queer Muslims’ mundane
challenges to Western Islamophobia and Islamicate heteronormativity. Written in
a scholarly but accessible style, this is a timely contribution to the
controversial topic of Islam and homosexuality, forging understanding about the
dissident position of Muslims who contravene heteronormative values and their
equivocal political position in the West.
‘I am the least racist person,’ Donald Trump declared. This book unpacks how it
is possible for various American administrations to impose discriminatory
counterterrorism (CT) and countering violent extremism (CVE) measures on Muslim
communities and yet declare that ‘Islam is peace’ or that ‘Muslims are our
friends’. The book addresses some of the paradoxes of the securitisation by
linking discourses about the role of Muslims in the war on terror in the United
States with covert forms of racism. The book is concerned with a securitisation
that is covertly rather than overtly expressed, which enables securitising
actors like Trump to deny plausibility of racism and claim that they are ‘the
least racist person’. The book offers a critique of the ‘soft’ and ‘hard’
approaches to CT and CVE and advances an alternative way to understand
radicalisation and terrorism by introducing a quantum perspective. Lastly,
drawing on the affective turn, the book adds body to the analysis by theorising
emotions and affect in the securitisation of Islam. The book argues that this
covert securitisation constructs white American subjects as innocent,
unprejudiced and living in a post-racial society averse to racism, whilst
constructing Muslim subjects as potential terrorists and thus as sites of
securitisation. This book is a timely analysis of the securitisation of Islam
since 9/11 and presents an original study that contributes to debates on
Islamophobia, white fragility and white victimhood, which have proliferated
since the rise of far-right (populist) parties in Europe and the US.
In times of national security, scholars and activists who hail from the
communities under suspicion attempt to draw readers and listeners to the
complexity of the world we inhabit. For those who campaigned against the SUS law
in the 1980s, when young Black men were being routinely stopped in the streets,
the wave of counter-terrorism legislation and policy that exists today will be
very familiar. Similarly, recent discussions about the impact of drill music in
the culture of young Black men has drawn questions around the ways in which they
should be securitised, with senior police calling for the use of terrorism
legislation against them. In this environment, when those who study and have
lived alongside the communities who are at the scrutiny of the state raise
questions about the government, military and police policy, they are often shut
down as terrorist-sympathisers, or apologists for gang culture. In such
environments, there is an expectation on scholars and activists to condemn what
society at large fears. This volume is about how that expectation has emerged
alongside the normalisation of racism, and how these writers choose to subvert
the expectations raised on them, as part of their commitment to anti-racism.
Relations between Europe and its Muslim minorities constitute an extensive focus for discussion both within and beyond the Continent. This book reports on the years mainly between 2005 and 2015 and focuses on the exploitation of recent European history when describing relations and the prospects for the nominally 'Christian' majority and Muslim minority. The discourse often references the Jews of Europe as a guiding precedent. The manifold references to the annals of the Jews during the 1930s, the Second World War and the Holocaust, used by both the Muslim minorities and the European 'white' (sic) majority presents an astonishing and instructive perspective. When researching Europe and its Muslim minorities, one is astonished by the alleged discrimination that the topic produces, in particular the expressions embodied in Islamophobia, Europhobia and anti-Semitism. The book focuses on the exemplary European realities surrounding the 'triangular' interactions and relations between the Europeans, Muslims and Jews. Pork soup, also known as 'identity soup', has been used as a protest in France and Belgium against multicultural life in Europe and against the Muslim migrants who allegedly enjoyed government benefits. If the majority on all sides of the triangle were to unite and marginalize the extreme points of the triangle, not by force but by goodwill, reason and patience, then in time the triangle would slowly but surely resolve itself into a circle. The Jews, Christians, Muslims and non-believers of Europe have before them a challenge.
Islamophobia and the struggle against white supremacy
the limits of our anti-racist strategies.
Among many other contributions, Runnymede is well known for its work on Islamophobia. Islamophobia is fundamental to understanding the global imagination of white nationalists, but it also reveals some of the blockages and misunderstandings that continue to hinder the struggle against racism. Twenty years after publishing Islamophobia: a challenge for us all in 1997, the Runnymede Trust published a second report on the topic in 2017. One of the unexpected conclusions of that 2017 report was that there was a need for a
of multicultural society. This has led to the conclusion that ‘the
EDL is clearly Islamophobic’ (Allen, 2011: 293) and, although having successfully
accommodated aspects of the diversity of contemporary multicultural Britain and
not espousing a traditionally racist ideology, promotes a form of ‘new racism’ or
‘cultural racism’ (2011: 293).
This chapter starts by critically outlining debates about how we define and
measure ‘Islamophobia’, focusing on the question of whether Islamophobia is a
new, and distinct, phenomenon or consists primarily in anti
‘Loud and proud’: Politics and passion in the English Defence League is a study of grassroots activism in what is widely considered to be a violent Islamophobic and racist organisation. The book uses interviews, informal conversations and extended observation at EDL events to critically reflect on the gap between the movement’s public image and activists’ own understandings of it. It details how activists construct the EDL, and themselves, as ‘not racist, not violent, just no longer silent’ inter alia through the exclusion of Muslims as a possible object of racism on the grounds that they are a religiously not racially defined group. In contrast activists perceive themselves to be ‘second-class citizens’, disadvantaged and discriminated by a ‘two-tier’ justice system that privileges the rights of ‘others’. This failure to recognise themselves as a privileged white majority explains why ostensibly intimidating EDL street demonstrations marked by racist chanting and nationalistic flag waving are understood by activists as standing ‘loud and proud’; the only way of ‘being heard’ in a political system governed by a politics of silencing. Unlike most studies of ‘far right’ movements, this book focuses not on the EDL as an organisation – its origins, ideology, strategic repertoire and effectiveness – but on the individuals who constitute the movement. Its ethnographic approach challenges stereotypes and allows insight into the emotional as well as political dimension of activism. At the same time, the book recognises and discusses the complex political and ethical issues of conducting close-up social research with ‘distasteful’ groups.
-trafficking campaigns already targeting this node in the ‘migration–security nexus’ in the late 1990s, the convergence of migration policy and understandings of security had already begun before 9/11, when the meanings of Islam in the Yugoslav region would intersect with transnational racialised Islamophobia.
Racialised Islamophobia and the Yugoslav region before and after 9/11
The expansion of the ‘migration–security nexus’ through governments and international institutions, after 9/11, made ‘Muslims’ and people ascribed a Muslim appearance