Being Young, Male and Muslim in Luton

Being Young, Male

and Muslim in Luton

SPOTLIGHTS

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Being Young, Male

and Muslim in Luton

Ashraf Hoque

First published in 2019 by

UCL Press

University College London

Gower Street

London WC1E 6BT

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Text © Ashraf Hoque, 2019

Ashraf Hoque has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as author of this work.

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Hoque, A. 2019. Being Young, Male and Muslim in Luton. London, UCL Press. https://doi.org/10.14324/111.9781787351349

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DOI: https://doi.org/10.14324/111.9781787351349

For my mother,

My mother,

My mother,

And then my father.

Contents

Acknowledgements

Introduction

Discussion

1.  Luton

2.  Family

3.  Friends

4.  Religion

Conclusion

References

Index

Acknowledgements

This book has been in process for some time, and would not have been concluded without the generous support of so many. I will be forever grateful to all of them. In particular, I would like to thank my PhD supervisor, Parvathi Raman, for her ceaseless encouragement, wisdom, and patience. I would also like to thank my teachers at SOAS Anthropology and History. Specifically, William Gervais Clarence-Smith, John Parker, Magnus Marsden, Richard Fardon, Jakob Klein, Dolores Martinez, Kostas Retiskas, Caroline Osella, George Kunnath, Christopher Davis, Kevin Latham, David Mosse, Harry West, Gabriele vom Bruck, Trevor Marchand, Edward Simpson, Paul Francois-Tremlett and Cosimo Zene from the Study of Religions department. At UCL, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Lucia Michelutti, Michael Stewart, Martin Holbraad, Allen Abramson, Charles Stewart, Lewis Daly, Alison Macdonald, Guiherme Heurich, and Dalia Iskander for their selfless guidance and blind faith throughout the final stages. Lastly, to Arild Ruud for gently pushing me off the plank.

This work was conceived, somewhat naively, with the help of my two dear friends, Hasan Al-Khoee and Igor Cherstich. I would like to thank them, along with the Brotherhood of Truth and Justice [and Gratitude] (you know who you are). A huge thank you to the people of Bury Park for their boundless hospitality, insight, and humour. Most notably, my friends at the MSP for hiring, hosting, and educating me. A work like this is so difficult to do justice to, especially given the duty to represent friends and interlocutors with necessary sensitivity and accuracy. Even so, errors never announce themselves. It thus goes without saying, as ever, that all such mistakes are my own alone.

Finally, I would like to extend my eternal gratitude to my family for their unconditional support throughout my life. My wife, Rosie, was a great source of relentless kindness and sustenance, for which I can never really reimburse her. Most profoundly, however, I would like to acknowledge my late parents. Principally, the tireless efforts of my mother in raising me against all odds, and demonstrating that anything is possible.

Introduction

This book will seek to provide an anthropological account of the lives of young British-born Muslim men of South Asian origin in the English town of Luton. Luton is a satellite town in close proximity to London, situated around thirty miles to the north of the city. It is an important town. Many of its inhabitants work in London, which is a convenient forty minutes’ train journey away. Luton also boasts an international airport that plays a significant part in providing air-travel needs for most of southern and central England. The town is further served by the M1 motorway, which connects London with Leeds in the previously industrial north of the country. In a previous life, Luton was an industrial town in its own right: famed for its manufacture of hats and, later, commercial and domestic motor vehicles. Since the turn of the century, however, these industries have all but vanished with the manufacturing industry being steadily replaced by the services sector – a phenomenon consistent with national trends. Historically speaking then, Luton is not a remote town. Its sophisticated transport links, coupled with once thriving industry, has encouraged people from up and down the country to pass through, work and settle in its environs. Among these settlers is a substantial Muslim community – around 19% of the overall population of the town which is approximately 200,000 people. These Muslims predominantly reside in a concentrated neighbourhood situated in and around the Bury Park area of the town. Like many of the town’s inhabitants, they were attracted to Luton during its industrial zenith, taking up employment in the Vauxhall Motor Company, its brickyards and engineering factories. Over the years, Muslim residents have burgeoned into a sizeable settled community where new generations, who were born and raised in the town, now call it their ‘home’. My fieldwork was conducted in this post-industrial landscape among this new generation of Britons. The bulk of it was conducted between 2008 and 2010, with further observational visits undertaken in the years since.

The chief concern of this book is to demonstrate, through observations of their everyday lives, the various ways British-born Muslim men in Luton develop understandings of themselves that transcend the monolithic contemporary image of British Muslim communities. I suggest that young Muslims in Luton are developing hybridised forms of Islam in an attempt to find alternatives to the culturally exclusive state narratives of nationality and citizenship. I argue that the syncretic experiences within the habitus of the South Asian Muslim ‘home’, coupled with influential interactions with ‘mainstream British society’, has led to the rejection of both points of reference. Rather, young British Muslims are looking to Islam – its ‘glorious past’ and the international Muslim community (ummah) – as a means of reconciling both the alienating cultural practices of the home and the perceived Islamophobia and defilement of society beyond. By resorting to an abstract re-articulation of Islam, young Muslims are re-adapting their communal affiliations to suit the social and cultural terrain of Britain, while simultaneously creating a counter-discourse to accepted notions of ‘Britishness’ and national belonging. Although a substantial and credible corpus of sociological and anthropological literature has emerged in recent decades seeking to situate and problematise British Muslim communities, this study will further illuminate the inherent complexities and resultant ‘messiness’ of this task. Furthermore, I aim to provide an analysis of Muslims in Britain that attempts to depart from certain conceptions that view diaspora Muslims as a separate cultural bloc, and move towards an understanding that identities are historically fluid, constantly in flux and continuously shifting social categories and markers.

***

I have chosen to focus this account on young Muslim men for two reasons. Firstly, I had relatively more access to men than I had to women. Although I did interact with and interview women (and some of their insights are implicit within the analysis), I was mindful of cultural sensitivities pertaining to mixed-gendered interactions. Although women were generally keen to partake in the research, participant observation was limited to schools, colleges, and other public spaces, mostly during the daytime. On the other hand, I was able to access male informants in both private and public spaces, to share residential trips with them, and to stay in their homes. Secondly, while much anthropological attention has been bestowed on Muslim women in diaspora, particularly with regards to the hijab debate ¹ there is far less attention on Muslim men going about their everyday lives in the West. ² I find this group particularly interesting as, like the ‘hyper-masculine’ inner city black males before them, ³ they have increasingly become categorised as the archetypical ‘folk devil’ by bourgeois society. Claire Alexander (2000) argues that the public perception of Muslim men reflects ‘a growing concern with the problem of Asian youth – and more specifically, with the problem of Muslim young men. ⁴ If they share the same well-established tropes of racial alienation and social breakdown that created, and continue to create, moral panics of Rastafarian drug dealers, black rioters, muggers and Yardies […], what they also reflect is a new cultural formation’ (Alexander 2000:4 original emphasis). A year after her book was published, young Muslim men of Bangladeshi and Pakistani heritage made national news after race riots in the former industrial northern mill towns of Oldham, Burnley and Bradford, in which 200 police officers were injured. According to Arun Kundnani, these riots represented an out-spilling of resentment after decades of state-endorsed segregation along ethnic and racial lines:

By the 1990s, a new generation of young Asians, born and bred in Britain, was coming of age in the northern towns, unwilling to accept the second-class status foisted on their elders. When racists came to their streets looking for a fight, they would meet violence with violence. And with the continuing failure of the police to tackle racist gangs, violent confrontations between groups of whites and Asians became more common (Kundnani 2001:108).

Negative perceptions of Muslim men were, of course, compounded by the events of 7/7, when four British Muslims, three of whom were of Pakistani origin, raised in Yorkshire, were posthumously found to be responsible for the attacks. The image of the male Muslim ‘folk devil’ was further crystallised by various all-male Muslim grooming gangs operating during the night-time economy in towns and cities across the country. Most recently, London and Manchester have witnessed a sequence of terror attacks orchestrated and executed by young British Muslim men. In addition to these, the British press has, since the declaration of the ‘war on terror’, been consistently reporting on Muslim men travelling to Syria to join ISIS, plots to detonate homemade bombs in public places, and ideological ‘hate preachers’ running British mosques. ⁵ This book, therefore, is an attempt to explore the lives of young Muslim men with these associated connotations in mind. Furthermore, I found that not only were young men acutely aware of these wider perceptions, but many engaged in sardonic and ironic performances in affirmation of such stereotypes. ‘If you call someone an extremist for long enough, he might just become one’, one of my key informants reminded me. Thankfully, I did not come across many would-be or actual terrorists during my time in the field. I did, however, meet with plenty of young men deeply annoyed and emotionally saturated by derogatory impressions of them in the public sphere. Almost twenty years on from Claire Alexander’s The Asian Gang, young Muslim men remain, it seems, a social ‘problem’.

One area where a sense of masculinity was particularly pronounced was in the realm of making money. My informants were committed to securing livelihoods that yielded maximum financial rewards. They were often encouraged to get a job and secure employment as soon as they possibly could by parents and grandparents. Once in a job, wages and profits were habitually funnelled into the family purse. The more earning power a given man had, the more social capital and gravitas he enjoyed among his peers and family. My informants were always quick to remind me that their parents or grandparents had ‘come here with nothing’, and that Britain provided a fertile ground to make money and ‘get rich’. They would compare themselves with cousins in Pakistan or Bangladesh, concluding that they were fortunate to be in Britain, with all the economic opportunities that came with this. This memory of migration, and the will to work and provide, was a major component of what it meant to be a man. Here, my informants’ ‘style of masculinity’ resembled what Osella and Osella refer to as the ‘gulfan’ in Keralan communities with a history of high migration to the Persian Gulf. They argue that the newfound wealth and status of returnee migrant workers from the Gulf accentuated characteristics already locally associated with essentialised categories of masculinity.

The gulfan […] belongs to an intermediate category, not yet fully adult but with a central characteristic of adult maleness, money. Focus on cash as the defining characteristic of failed or successful gulfans, and the focus on consumer items brought and the expenditure while on visits at home, articulate with an idealized male life-cycle. Given that most gulfans begin their migration as young bachelors, leaving the village as immature youths (payyanmar), visits home are opportunities to demonstrate not only financial, but also age and gender-related progress. (Osella and Osella 2000:122)

Similarly, in Luton, young men conformed to essentialised or hegemonic notions of masculinity ⁶ that I suggest are relational to temporalities of migration and working-class socio-economic conditions. Being ‘seen’ as rich and, therefore, ‘successful’ was a preoccupation for many of my male informants. In some cases, this desire even led to careers in criminality. In fact, being a criminal was highly desirable for many of my younger interlocutors, who aspired to possess the power and prestige of locally known gangsters. There was a significant number of young men who left school without sufficient qualifications and entered a life of petty-criminality – usually dealing drugs or committing small-scale fraud. Once convicted, they found it near impossible to find legitimate employment. The worry for young Muslim men in Luton, therefore, is not that they are destined to become religious extremists, but whether they find a job before getting a criminal record.

The chapters of this book will provide a detailed ethnographic description of the everyday lives of my informants in Luton. I have organised the book into four core ethnographic chapters: ‘Luton’; ‘Family’; ‘Friends’; and ‘Religion’. The logic is to introduce the reader to the various arenas of socialisation and identity construction that young men in Luton are familiarised with from an early age and carry into adulthood. In doing so, my hope is to provide a holistic picture of concomitant expectations and pressures that young men continuously juggle in their everyday lives. The chapters also shed light on how my informants develop novel ways to manage, allay and rearticulate familial and social expectations and perceptions as a pioneering generation in their own right.

Chapter 1 introduces the reader to the town of Luton and, in particular, Bury Park where the largest concentration of the town’s Muslims reside. It provides a geographical, social, and methodological context to the ensuing study. No other town in the British Isles with a significant Muslim population has received so much negative exposure since the declaration of the war on terror. Ever since the 7/7 bombers