Malik Fraz Ahmad, Law student, Bradford
Recently, across the UK, the widespread raising of the British Flags has become a focal point for fierce debate. The groups draping the national colours from lampposts brand their actions as an organic expression of patriotism, whilst critics accuse them of intimidation, with some flags being cut down or defaced.
This cycle of hoisting, removing, and replacing flags highlights how fragile and superficial our understanding of loyalty has become. More pertinently, this tension points to a larger debate. It raises the question of what it truly means to be loyal to one’s country. And, more pointedly, whether Islam, which is so often cast into this debate, is really at odds with such loyalty in Britain.
Many would argue that those who make their home in a new country carry a duty to be loyal citizens. Indeed, Islam takes this duty further, making it a moral and spiritual imperative, and emphasising the importance of contributing positively to society and upholding the law of the land. The Holy Prophet Muhammadsa himself taught that the love for one’s nation is a part of faith. For Muslims, this means that patriotism is not an optional virtue, but an act of religious devotion.
Yet at present, proponents of “Operation Raise the Colours” seem to have declared the litmus test of loyalty to one’s country to be the single, symbolic, and perhaps performative act of publicly raising a British flag.
This is dangerously simplistic, a distortion of the true meaning of patriotism and a great disservice to those citizens whose loyalty is demonstrated through daily humble acts of service rather than one-off gestures. It is the nurses and doctors serving patients through the night, the teachers guiding children in the classroom, and the shopkeepers keeping doors open for their community. It is this constancy that truly holds a nation together, not a piece of fabric on a pole.
This is not to downplay the significance of flags symbolically. There is no doubt that the flag holds emotional power. It is simple, visible, and immediate. People rally beneath it in moments of triumph and tragedy. In fact, the UK’s largest annual Muslim convention, the Jalsa Salana in Hampshire, which gathers over 40,000 Muslims to promote peace, proudly hoists the Union Flag as a symbol of loyalty to Britain. But ceremony without the substance of actions to back it up is hollow, and risks turning patriotism into performance rather than principle.
The Ahmadiyya Muslim Community has consistently championed this deeper vision of loyalty. The vast majority of Ahmadi Muslims are dedicated and positive contributors to British society. My own family sought asylum here, fleeing religious persecution abroad. We arrived with no financial security, no familial connections and no knowledge of the language or culture, only a deep belief in the values of justice, freedom and tolerance that Britain represents.
Hence, growing up, I never found there to be any conflict between my faith and my loyalty to Britain. In fact, Islam gave me both the incentive and the motivation to integrate, contribute and serve. From a young age, I was taught that loyalty to one’s country is part of my faith, and that service to others is not just a civic duty, but a religious obligation. In my family, this contribution manifests in three generations of healthcare service, and it’s why I chose to study law, to help uphold the principles of fairness, justice and freedom that allowed my family to build a life here. True loyalty then, is not about abandoning one’s faith or identity, or merely hoisting a flag, but about fulfilling one’s duties as a citizen.
This is not merely anecdotal. These are the values and actions that define the majority, yet rarely garner sufficient media coverage. It is more critical than ever for the media and public figures to act responsibly and to hold themselves to a higher standard of discourse, one that promotes understanding rather than hatred. Words matter. Narratives matter. And if they descend into careless generalisations or antagonistic rhetoric, the consequences can be both dangerous and real.
Following patently false claims peddled online last summer, hundreds of violent protestors targeted my local mosque in Hartlepool. Police were attacked with bottles, cars were set alight, and shops and houses were attacked. (“Community rallies around mosque after disorder”, www.bbc.co.uk) And all the while, flags were waved in the supposed defence of Britain.
But what could be more quintessentially British than the work of that very mosque? This is the same mosque which, in recent years, has donated more than 35,000 meals to a local Church’s foodbank and raised £25,000 for the Royal British Legion’s Poppy Appeal. It even hosted a garden party to mark the King’s Coronation. The mob that night may have carried the English flag, but their actions mocked the very values those flags were meant to symbolise.
Yet I still believe in the decency and integrity of the majority of the British public, to see through these divisive narratives and recognise them as attempts to exploit people’s legitimate concerns. This is not borne out of some baseless, unrealistic utopian ideal, but is proven by lived experience. In Southport, we saw how the community rallied round to clean up after protestors, whilst in Hartlepool, a local fundraiser raised £13,000 for the mosque. And in a gesture that speaks louder than raising any flag, the mosque chose to donate every penny of those funds back to local charities.
The local community’s response in Hartlepool last summer is a microcosm of the Britain we should aspire to be: resilient, compassionate, and always united. The Ahmadiyya Muslim Community’s slogan of “Love for all, hatred for none” is a timely one and has never been more relevant, more necessary or more urgently needed.
So put up a flag, or don’t, but either way, we must collectively recognise and acknowledge that this is never exclusively the litmus test of one’s loyalty to their country. We must embrace a more comprehensive vision of civic duty and patriotism, one which is rooted in every individual striving for the prosperity and progress of their nation, using whichever faculties God has bestowed upon them.
Anyone can raise a flag in a moment. True loyalty is less easily attainable, proven in the quiet, sincere service of a lifetime.
