Starmer's 'Anti-Muslim Hostility' Shift Betrays British Muslims, Says Author
Starmer's Islamophobia Definition Shift Betrays Muslims

For British Muslims like writer Nadeine Asbali, the government's latest move on defining prejudice feels like a profound betrayal of trust. The Labour government, under Prime Minister Keir Starmer, is reportedly preparing to abandon the term 'Islamophobia' in official discourse, opting instead for the phrase 'anti-Muslim hostility'. The news, broken on December 16, 2025, has sparked anger and a deep sense of resignation within Muslim communities who see it as a step backwards in the fight against racism.

A Sinking Feeling of Resignation

Asbali describes her reaction not as shock, but as a "sinking feeling of utter resignation." She argues that in recent years, Islamophobia has been amplified by politicians, media, and policy. The government's apparent reasoning—that the term 'Islamophobia' might curb free speech—rings hollow against a backdrop of far-right riots, flag-daubing vandalism, and normalised anti-migrant sentiment. For many, she states, a formal, clear definition is needed now more than ever.

This shift marks a stark reversal from Labour's position in opposition. In 2019, the party backed the All-Party Parliamentary Group's definition: 'Islamophobia is rooted in racism and is a type of racism that targets expressions of Muslimness or perceived Muslimness.' This firmly framed the issue as a form of racism. Starmer himself once criticised Conservative governments for failing to tackle Islamophobia decisively, including their refusal to adopt a formal definition.

Why Language Matters: Hostility vs. Islamophobia

The proposed new term, 'Anti-Muslim hostility', is defined as encouraging criminal acts, violence, vandalism, and harassment directed at Muslims. Supporters claim it is more comprehensive. However, Asbali contends this change is a "nefarious attempt" to downplay the pervasive, structural nature of the prejudice faced by Muslims.

"It suggests a passive, subtle, personal dislike," she writes, conjuring an image of a mild grievance. "But this is not the reality for Muslims right now in the UK." She outlines a daily experience far beyond mere 'hostility': politicians vilifying Muslims on live TV, homes and mosques vandalised with nationalist flags, women hiding hijabs, public attacks, job market discrimination, and being branded terrorists for dissenting views.

"In a climate like this, refusing to cement our treatment in non-negotiable, crystal-clear terms feels like yet another continuation of the Islamophobia we face," Asbali asserts.

The Dangerous Signal of Semantic Sidestepping

Asbali draws a powerful comparison: we wouldn't rebrand sexism as 'anti-woman hostility' or dilute clear racism into talk of 'sentiments'. She questions why Muslims alone are asked to relinquish precise legal protection to safeguard others' right to criticise their faith, a standard not applied to Christianity, Judaism, or Hinduism.

This isn't an academic debate, she stresses. It's about whether the UK is willing to name the hatred its Muslim citizens face or sidestep it with "cold semantics." By hesitating to name Islamophobia, the government sends a dangerous signal: that it doesn't truly exist or isn't a serious problem. This effectively gives a stamp of approval to far-right vitriol, invalidates Muslim experiences, and tells perpetrators their hatred is negotiable.

For Asbali and many others, the message from Westminster is clear: their safety and recognition are being compromised for political convenience, making Britain feel less safe for visibly Muslim people every day.