Chine McDonald explores the impact of the attacks on July 7 2005 twenty years on. How has our cultural landscape changed? 10/07/2025
The week after the 7/7 bombings in London 20 years ago, I was on a month–long placement at the Telegraph, in one of the most iconic buildings in the UK: One Canada Square – the iconic Canary Wharf tower. It was also a prime terrorist target.
London in those days and weeks following the bombings was eery and on edge. Every morning, the images of New York’s Twin Towers ablaze would flash through my mind as I went through security. A palpable fear of violent Islamist extremism was in the air. I felt this fear in my own body, just as I could sense it in the journalists for whom I would make cups of tea, carry out research and make calls for as we looked at the stories of 7/7 from all angles. I’m ashamed, however, to say that at least twice on my commute in, I got off the Docklands Light Railway when I found myself overcome by fear after spotting a young brown man the likes of which media stories for years had told us to be wary of, in the same carriage as me. I calmly got off, and then got on the next one. As someone who hopes to argue against stereotyping of any kind, this was not my finest hour.
Fear is a forceful motivation for ideologies, beliefs and behaviours.
The 7/7 attacks took place a few weeks after I graduated from my theology degree. I had stepped out of the bubble of university life and into an atmosphere that felt similar to that which had permeated Western society in the months leading up to me finishing my A–Levels.
The post– 9/11 anxiety of Islamist extremism and the anti–Muslim sentiment in general was furthered out – particularly through the New Atheists – to target all faiths, and religion as a whole.
To many, understanding religion felt urgent then, because there was genuine fear of violence, threats to both life and the fabric of society. Leaders wanted to understand the religious underpinnings of the ideologies that led to the bombings in order to nullify the threats it posed.
Understanding religion feels urgent in a different way now. Despite the assumption in the early 2000s that religion was on its way out, today religious ideas permeate politics, and religious rhetoric frames our narratives – whether we recognise this or not. The majority of the world is religious, with over two thirds (69%) saying religion is an important part of their daily life, according to recent global research from Bible Society with Gallup. According to a new study from the Pew Forum, while Christianity remains the largest religion globally – Islam is the fastest growing.
Along with the changing place of religion in public life, perceptions of Islam in the UK have also changed since the early 2000s. We now see many more Muslims in public life. At the recent Sandford St Martin Awards ceremony, which recognised excellence in religious broadcasting, there were programmes about Eid and Ramadan alongside stories of Jewish coming–of–age rituals and explorations of Christian ethical ideas. In an upcoming Theos report on where religious education is found outside the classroom, we’ll show how, for example, cultural institutions such as Premier League football clubs are now frequently hosting Iftar feasts and Eid events for their communities, often with an intentional aim of interreligious education. More broadly we have found that diverse communities can bring rich experiences of empathetic informal education through direct experience – whether in the playground, community groups, or intentional events – with people from other religious traditions, developing authentic cohesion and deeper community.
To some extent, Muslim ideas sit comfortably within a multi–faith, plural society. However, there are clearly tensions when it comes to social cohesion, on all sides. There is still – in all areas of society – fear, suspicion and sometimes hatred of ‘the other’.
Our Religion Counts research last year showed that Muslims are much less likely to engage in the political process than Christians. We have not polled on the reasons for this, but suspicion of Western political ideals, language barriers and a general lack of integration might be among them. Meanwhile, beneath the surface of some anti–immigrant rhetoric lies anti–Muslim sentiment; which is on the rise. So often, we fear what we do not know or understand. At moments like 7/7 when people are blowing up buses and tube carriages, that fear is justified and entirely human. But what this fear should do is drive us towards more understanding, more bridge–building, rather than violence in return. But, as an article by IPPR in 2009, noted: “We need a twin track approach to counter–terrorism and community cohesion”, which has to be “both principled and pragmatic”.
I fear that the progress over the past two decades, the more inclusive and open societies that government policies and civic society have worked for, is regressing. Global polarisation and religious–tinged conflict play out in local communities, and times of economic instability, isolation and loneliness, are perfect breeding grounds for fracture, fear and hatred of those perceived as ‘other’.
Official Hate Crime statistics for the year ending March 2024 showed a 25% increase in religious hate crimes compared with the previous year. Of those reported, 3,866 were against Muslims – a 13% rise, 3,282 were against Jewish people (double the previous year), with Christians next in line (702), followed by Sikhs (216) and Hindus (193). These hate crimes are a sign of a fractured society, which sees global tensions played out in local places.
Last month, I met with the government commission tasked with coming up with a new definition of anti–Muslim hatred/Islamophobia, headed up by Dominic Grieve KC, and spoke about some of the significant work in the areas of social cohesion that Theos has done in the years since 7/7 (Making Multiculturalism Work, Cohesive Societies: Faith and Belief, The Church and Social Cohesion). Our multi–religious, plural society requires us to be more intentional so that we might understand each other and “live at peace with everyone” (Romans 12:18).
In conversation with the commissioners, we discussed that bound up in anti–Muslim hatred is sometimes genuine theological difference of opinion, but too often a complete ignorance of Islam rather than an informed view of the Quranic texts and Muslim tradition. I urged the commission to consider highlighting the importance of religious education from primary to higher education, in order to help with social cohesion. And yet theology and religious studies departments are closing up and down the country.
While there, I also shared with the commissioners that – as my colleague George Lapshynov notes in our new report From Strangers to Neighbours – while the UK might have some of the best anti–discrimination legislation in the world, this legislation – and indeed the efforts to come up with definitions of words such as Islamophobia or anti–Semitism – cannot be the end of the story. Rather than simply force people to accept diversity through a legalistic framework, we should also aim to foster a shared sense of community. Many of the narratives from public leaders post– 7/7 talked about us standing together and making a commitment that our communities would not be divided by hate. Twenty years later, I fear we may have failed.
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