Lockdown & Religious Festivals: Reflections Of Racism From A COVID-Restricted Ramadan
Almas Talib & Ri Adh
Remember when we spend Ramadan and Eid in lockdown? Ask any Muslim you know, they’ll tell you it was an extremely surreal experience. No large family events, no taraweeh prayers at the Mosque. It felt like a fever dream. As we’ve now officially completed our first unrestricted Ramadan and Eid, we’re looking back at the experience, and have realised it tells us a deeper story about the state of racism and Islamophobia in English policing. Here’s how.
Let us take you back to the beginning of the pandemic. Soon after the introduction of lockdown restrictions we began to hear reports from NHS England that “Black, Asian and Minority Ethnic (BAME)” communities were more severely affected by the virus. Worryingly, this came with little explanation, and as the number of deaths due to COVID continued to increase, so too did the number of Black people and people of colour (BPOC) dying, at a disproportionate rate. Many of us watched in fear as our communities suffered loss after loss; early analysis from Sky News even found that of the 54 medical and care staff first killed by the virus, 70 percent were BPOC. One of the first doctors to die on the front line, Sudanese-born Dr Amged El-Hawrani, was a Muslim. During the immediate peak of infections and deaths, Muslim communities were repeatedly highlighted as being particularly at risk from the pandemic.
As the virus continued to spread through the country, there was more speculation about why BPOC communities were suffering so much loss. Numerous reports highlighted and perpetuated biological racism, assuming that these excess deaths were due to increased rates of heart conditions and diabetes in “the BAME community”, despite analysis of hospital data demonstrating that mortalities were not consistent across minority groups, with Black Caribbean deaths being more than twice those of Bangladeshi and Pakistani populations in England. BPOC groups were all tarred with the same assumption from mainstream media: that excess deaths were due to our poor health and a lack of compliance with laws and restrictions. Later on, Doreen Lawrence concluded in her review that it was actually structural racism that had negatively impacted the outcomes of COVID-19 on “BAME” groups, giving us all a chance to practise our surprised faces once again.
The overrepresentation of marginalised communities in lower socio-economic groups and underpaid key worker roles had resulted in significantly higher rates of death and serious illness for BPOC; clearly factors beyond individual choice come into play here. Nevertheless, the narrative of the ‘problem’ BPOC communities continued in the media. Especially around those pesky Muslims.
One notable example of this was Tory MP Craig Whittaker’s claim that “Muslim and BAME” communities were not taking the coronavirus pandemic seriously. This idea was one shared by many racist groups, and placed the onus on individuals in order to distract from the wider structural racism at play. For an elected MP to further fan these flames and encourage the idea of ‘problem’ communities, and for this to go completely unchallenged indicates just how pervasive structural racism in Britain has become. It was also interesting that Whittaker specifically singled Muslims out in his statement. Despite people of the Islamic faith coming in all ethnicities and skin colours (that includes white people Craig!), they were still lumped together as one homogenous group, and a problematic one at that. This perception of Muslims not following the rules has remained consistent throughout the pandemic, but as we we heard more and more about Number 10’s lockdown parties, Dominic Cummings’ 250 mile eye test trip, and Matt Hancock’s clumsy fumbling with one of his aides, it became increasingly clear where the contempt for the rules really lay. With all this going on behind the scenes, it’s also not surprising that the government wanted us to point the finger at minorities, rather than scrutinise those in power.
Ramadan 2020, during England’s first lockdown, was a sombre affair. It supported the air of reflection, hope and prayer that comes with this holy month, but when Eid-al-fitr came around the celebrations were muted, and for many, largely a moment to just pray and grieve. Restrictions around gathering, mixing and going into venues remained until June, when the Prime Minister pretty much just said “sun’s out, huns out”. Then in July, a mere 2 weeks before Eid, parts of West Yorkshire, Greater Manchester and East Lancashire, which have some of the highest percentages of Muslim residents outside of Birmingham and Greater London, were placed under stricter local restrictions once again, disallowing social gatherings and mixing in homes and gardens. As everyone else was coming out of restrictions, the government apparently just didn’t trust Muslims to look after themselves, so threw some local measures back in again just to be sure. The explanation about increased vulnerability amongst “BAME” populations was a good narrative for them to drag back out here, but it did just feel like we couldn't be trusted to observe our religion safely. Though we know it isn’t new for the government to assume that too much Muslimness tends to lead to death, be that via superspreading or explosives.
This selective policing didn’t fully hit home, however, until the run up to Christmas 2020. With scientists warning of a new peak for cases and deaths, and Christmas being an occasion for busy shops and large family gatherings, it seemed counterintuitive that the government would do everything in its power to make sure Christmas festivities went ahead. Johnson turned into a weird, dishevelled Santa, working hard to save Christmas from the nasty virus. And it’s fair to say that after a Ramadan and two Eids with COVID restrictions, Muslims were rightfully salty about this, not least because of the clear dangers it presented. Eventually, much like Santa himself, Boris’s Christmas plans turned out to be a myth and the government had to admit this by changing their tune last minute and “cancelling” Christmas.
Even with this u-turn from the government, for many it was too little too late. The damages of Project Save Christmas resulted in an all-time high daily toll of 1,325 deaths and 18,974 people in hospital for COVID. Britain went back into national lockdown from early 2021, but once again it was other religious groups, such as Jewish communities observing Passover, and Sikh communities celebrating Vaisakhi, whose festivals and traditions were subject to stricter restrictions. For Muslims, this meant another Ramadan and another Eid-ul-fitr under COVID measures. Incidentally, the restrictions were timed perfectly to include Eid, being lifted just 3 days later, because if we’ve learned one thing by now it’s that you mustn’t trust the Muslims!
To avoid any misunderstandings, we want to highlight that COVID restrictions were extremely important in controlling the virus. They were welcomed by Muslim communities, with many mosques around the UK publishing statements of support for restrictions and reinforcing government guidance. But the differential policing and inconsistent rules for some communities were saddening and frustrating. Like when we couldn’t meet family and friends in our houses, but could meet them in a pub. We joked Eid would be different this year and morning prayers would have to be replaced by a meet up with Nani over a pint. When Dominic Cummings breached lockdown rules to be near his family in Durham we also wondered if he was secretly Muslim, because it was mostly Muslims and “BAME” communities that were violating rules, right? To rub even more salt in the wound, Boris Johnson’s lockdown parties came to light earlier this year. One of these was just 3 days before Eid-ul-fitr in 2020, at the height of the pandemic.It is in these double standards that we find a few important lessons. The first is that if you are white and break the rules, you are a single bad apple (no mention of how you spoil the bunch!). If you are Muslim, tough luck… your whole community is the problem. The hypocrisy of our political leaders and those in the upper echelon of society really demonstrated this. The treatment of Muslims by the government and the media highlighted the second lesson: that we are perceived as a problem, a suspect community, by wider society and this allows us to be subjected to higher levels of policing. And the final lesson: Muslims have been and are still being used as scapegoats to divert public attention from the real injustices in society (read: the government throwing 15 restriction-breaking parties whilst thousands of people died alone during a global pandemic).
Breaking our fasts in Ramadan this year, and celebrating Eid, was saturated with reflections on the past two years. The pandemic highlighted the Islamophobia and structural racism that had been endemic in this country long before the pandemic. Just because the restrictions are gone, doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten.