Nora Abdoun (ISoc publicity officer) condemns Theresa May but finds hope in the British people

As a Muslim, I was inevitably outraged by Trump’s #MuslimBan. As a British national, I was equally outraged by our government’s complicity with it. For a Prime Minister who claims to lead a country that prides itself on upholding the values of “individual liberty” and “mutual respect for and tolerance of those with different faiths and beliefs”, May’s silence is truly an insult to the millions of Britons who live by these values every day. Moreover, her condonation of Trump’s racism and Islamophobia is a gesture of utter disregard for the three million Muslims living in the UK. For the Muslims who work hard, every single day, to make Britain what it is. Our so-called prime minister is telling them that she does not give a single damn.

May, who has imposed an “integration oath” since taking office to ensure that all immigrants, many of whom are Muslim, adopt “British values”, is not only going against these very values herself, but acting to further marginalise a community that she insists should integrate more. The situation would be laughable if it weren’t so destructive.

However, it would be unfair to overlook the abundance of good that has come from this situation. The past week has seen the British people come out in their thousands, at short notice, to stand up against this ban. People of all religions and beliefs, ethnicities and backgrounds stood side by side in solidarity with their Muslim brothers and sisters in humanity. This week, the British public let the Muslim community know, that we are an integral part of society. And what a beautiful moment that was.

So yes, as a Muslim I was outraged by Trump’s #MuslimBan and May’s lack of concern about it. However, the past few days have proven that you don’t have to be Muslim to be outraged. You’ve only got to be human to realise that oppression is wrong. To stand up against injustice. And whilst we can sometimes feel engulfed by the darkness brought about by those in power, we will always have hope in the light we, the people, bring to one another. For as Einstein once said, “darkness is in reality the absence of light”.

Mazen El-Turk (ISoc VP student affairs) believes we must remain united to avoid repeating the horrors of the past

During Donald Trump’s campaign, we were often told that his misogynistic, fascist and bigoted comments were simply empty words, that he was simply monopolising a popular vote and when in office, diplomacy would come. A week in, Trump signed a flurry of executive orders, authorising the construction of a wall, allowing federal agencies to stop Obamacare, giving border agents more freedom to detain immigrants and banning nationals from seven countries from entering – even if they held a green card.

To ignore the parallels between today and the 1930s is to trivialise the years of persecution faced by the Jewish community and other minorities. Throughout President Trump’s campaign, he reiterated again and again how he would put in place a ‘Muslim ban’ and spoke about a Muslim registry. Apologists can call it by any name, but the sentiment behind it is clear. The Holocaust is a blot on our collective global history and it serves as a reminder that human beings are capable of such overwhelming horrors, and that some of the fault is borne by those who stand by and do nothing.

Today, we see the repercussions around the world of the dangerous alt-right rhetoric of division and ‘other’-ness. From the Quebec shooting to the Islamophobic attacks being witnessed in some of London’s biggest universities, Trump’s ‘Muslim ban’ continues to promise a marginalised community even more hate and distrust. At a time when extremist ideologies thrive on division, we need to stand together stronger in the face of hatred and division and stand up against the fascist ban. We have a duty today to let the Trump administration know in no uncertain terms that fascism under the guise of security will not be tolerated by us. Together, we stand stronger against all forms of extremism, and in the face of open hostility, we need to remain human, tolerant, and welcoming.

Zayd Alhaddad recalls the America he knows and loves and urges that we fight for what we believe in

As an American Muslim I had to go to the march because Trump’s policy could have prevented my very existence: my parents immigrated to the US from the Middle East. It was humbling to see so many people at the protest – especially the number of IC students, as we’re generally known for being politically apathetic.

Trump’s policies do not reflect the America that I grew up in. My sister and I were two of three Muslims at my school. Instead of casting us aside they embraced us with open arms. During Ramadan fasting the school let us play Monopoly with the teachers during our breaks instead of insisting we go and run outside. They let my mum come in and decorate the school to celebrate the month, and they put up the decorations every year even after we left. They even insisted we took Eid off so we could spend the holiday with our family. After the 9⁄11 tragedies and the rise of Islamophobia the school invited my mother to come and speak to the students about what Islam truly means. We were never left to feel like outsiders, and it wasn’t like everybody there was an immigrant; about 80% of the school was white. This is the America that I grew up to love and always will. The America that the Founding Fathers stood up for (with what they wrote on the constitution at least), the America that was created as a safe haven for all peoples to seek refuge from religious persecution, which is exactly what the new policy embodies: it is a flagrant constitutional violation as it targets a specific religious group.

It is a shame that the POTUS is who he is, but if we keep making our voices heard then hopefully we can stop the hatred before too much damage has been done.