“The story of British Pakistani men, told by a native informant”

In the simplest terms, people are allowed to have different perspectives on a range of issues. My opinion will not and does not have to be the same as every other Asian or Muslim person living in the UK. To expect everyone’s viewpoint to mirror yours reeks of self-righteousness and narcissism. It seems it is acceptable to criticise or analyse every other community – yet if you dare to speak about the Asian community, you’re a “native informant” or a “sellout”. Talking about issues is not a bad thing – issues cannot be resolved if we do not talk about them and if we continue to sugar coat and deny them – so pretending that anyone who dares to bring these issues to the fore is motivated by racism against our own kind, by self hatred or because they want to be closer to “colonisers” is not helpful in any way. Attacking and labelling anyone who dares to express any perspective that isn’t sufficiently “pro community” as a “native informant” simply prohibits any debate with a diversity of views from being had.

“I was also concerned about Mehreen’s positionality as a presenter who gained her name through appearing in the reality show “Muslims Like Us”, rather than for being an investigative journalist.”

No one is born an investigative journalist, nor have all investigative journalists read degrees in investigative journalism. Just like how, nowadays, self proclaiming seems to be enough of a qualification to be taken seriously as a social activist and speaker – and also just like it’s okay for articles these days to be written by people with no journalistic credentials. Comments about me being an “opportunist” cannot be taken seriously by people whose claim to fame is a “viral” video or a succession of hysterical and obsessive tweets, or even an article they “got payed (sic) to write”.

“She distances herself as much as possible from other British-Pakistanis, particularly the working-class Mirpuris she finds in Bradford – whose terraced housing she incredulously comments on as “so close together” – positioning herself as someone with less proximity to the community she is investigating, and more to a middle-class, white voyeur.”

Assumptions made about my personal upbringing, my class, intentions and accusations of exploitation were not only unhelpful but also completely inaccurate, misinformed and ignorant. I have never hidden or been ashamed of my working class background: I was brought up in Tottenham, a wonderful, hugely diverse and multicultural area in London that is also often misrepresented in the media. Immediately after graduating, I returned to the same Tottenham I had grown up in, to support children with similar, disadvantaged backgrounds to my own. I am more than familiar and qualified to talk about issues such as race and social mobility: I haven’t stood on podiums or behind a screen and preached about these issues – I have spent my entire adult life working first hand, on the grounds, with young people of diverse backgrounds. I have no need to “position myself as someone with more proximity to a middle-class, white voyeur.” Many questioned why I didn’t engage in discussions after the show: of course, I am open to public criticism and scrutiny, but I am not willing to engage in a personal attack under the guise of constructive criticism of the documentary.This was a negative smear campaign: I have been called everything from ugly to a prostitute and my family has been insulted, therefore I would never respond and reduce myself to that level. I am genuinely glad people have been paid to write articles, got a few retweets by jumping on the “writing threads” bandwagon and perhaps got noticed for a few days – even if it was at my expense. I wish everyone nothing but success – I would just hope that, next time, it’s not by trolling a young woman and encouraging a plethora of followers to do the same. Of course, there will be detractors, hurt by a perceived public shaming of their people, and this can be discussed – I don’t need a “facilitated conversation” as some people suggested, I’m a grown adult who is perfectly capable of having a respectful conversation or debate. But I don’t incite and encourage hatred to suit my own agenda (“well done for keeping up the anger!” “Ur girl takes twitter beef seriously alhamdullillah!”) It’s not “beef” if only one person is talking – it’s a one sided attack.

“The “Asian men” the documentary focused on were specifically those of the Kashmiri, or “Mirpuri”, diaspora in Bradford.”

Over 70% of British Pakistanis are “Mirpuri”. We were exploring British Pakistanis, therefore visited an area that was predominantly Pakistani and one of the main destinations for Mirpuris when they originally migrated to the UK. This is not a cunning revelation: why the documentary focused specifically on “those of Mirpuri diaspora in Bradford” was explained right at the beginning of the film (comm: “And  I’ll travel back to the region of my home country which 70% of British Pakistanis can trace their roots to”). To speak to British Pakistanis about their experiences, we visited a predominantly Pakistani city. It’s not rocket science.

“…parallel communities” being linked to terrorism, Pakistani men in Bradford are a demographic consistently disparaged and demonised…”

The opening lines of the documentary acknowledge this representation (Mehreen: “I feel like every-time you turn on your TV screen, open a newspaper or even go on social media the only stories you hear about British Asian men are of them being groomers, and terrorists and drug dealers.” Comm: “I’m a British-Pakistani too and I used to be a teacher. It bothers me that every year boys are leaving school with all this negativity on their shoulders.”) and explain that the show will begin to explore what is really happening behind the headlines. The documentary does not reinforce these negative stereotypes, but on the contrary introduces the notion of perception versus reality. My opening question asks the audience “Honestly what do you think when you see young British Asian men  like this on the streets?” – I explicitly question how these young men afford their customised cars – and the same men clearly respond about the prejudices they face. One says: “believe or not work in the tax office.  So it’s all from working hard and savings really.” The vulnerability and resilience of a lot of these young men is repeatedly referred to: (Lucky: “You could literally just make a phone call and just deal like that. But obviously we just decided we’d rather work hard. But yeah obviously we have to remember that we’re Muslims and we have to show people that we’re good and kind hearted and not everyone’s bad.” Comm: “It made me think about how much has been stacked against the young Mirpuri men I’d met.”) So, in fact, rather than “demonising” or vilifying Pakistani men, the stigma that is often associated with them is immediately addressed, and drug dealing, terrorism and grooming to take an overdue back seat and the audience see these guys as normal young people, genuinely trying to live a fulfilling life – not at the expense of anyone else’s freedom or well being. Hence, to say the documentary reinforced negative stereotypes is just a blatant lie.

“…questions of race, racism or class were never explicitly mentioned…”

This is so absurd it is almost laughable. The entire show questions race and class – looking at the working class background of the boys (Comm: Over half of Pakistani households in Britain are classed as low income…), the housing, the social deprivation, and segregation. Negative racial stereotyping is discussed at various points (Contrib: “they think we are drug dealers or terrorists”. Mehreen: “I think that seeing that these boys are so aware that there are so many negative stereotypes surrounding them, coming here is a place where they feel like they’re surrounded by people who won’t judge them.” Mehreen: “Those narrow definitions that are imposed on young men in the UK when you come to Lahore you see they are not imposed in the same way.”) “Racism” and “colonialism” do not have to be shouted out as buzzwords in order for race and racism to be explored – the documentary is rooted in these themes.

“They were derided as “princelings” who were not business-minded enough to get very far in life…”

Whether it is Nav’s desire to broaden his horizons and his hunger to gain more knowledge, the lack of opportunities and role models around Danyal or Lucky’s struggle to support his family and fulfil the role of the “man of the house” since the age of thirteen – none of these three voices are shown as “princelings”. In fact, they are presented with empathy, respect and integrity. When my father initially speaks of the “greed” many young men have, rather than a desire to work hard, I challenge him that it is not only Asian boys who often fall into wrong crowds through the temptation of making quick money. When the grandfather in Mirpur speaks of the same thing – the fact that many young men don’t have to work as hard as young women do or as their forefathers did (“Now the third generation…they get everything given to them”)  those are words out of his own mouth. Yes, the show does allude to some of the patriarchy, sexism and misogyny which does exist within the community – at no point at all did we say all Mirpuri/Pakistani men are like this – but it certainly is a factor which may be holding them back. That is not something I am sorry about. The majority of  boys were happy to discuss their status as males and the luxuries they are afforded within their homes and community (Contrib: “I’m young, my mum and dad look after me, I’m a spoilt child.”) Hilariously, this idea of Asian men being “princelings” was acknowledged by many of the tweets criticising me – for example, “to Mirpuri men, you may be a mess but we won’t let you be thrown under the bus” – written by the author of this article. I am not here for hypocrisy. Sugar coating problems and an inability to acknowledge real issues in the community is not doing the community any favours – in fact, it is dangerous. (Comm: Drug crime has risen, and British Pakistani men make up a disproportionate number of those convicted.) Also, please keep in mind, I did not at any point call these men a “mess”. Not once. But it seems it is okay for some people to acknowledge the “mess” exists, yet I am not afforded the same right (because of some colonisation or sellout theory). I would love to know what gives some people the right to use derogatory words to refer to Pakistani men yet I can’t explore an object investigation into the reasons why they are underperforming. Perhaps because some people feel they hold the power to decide who is an “insider”, according to their supposed geographical, religious or social superiority. 

“…who Mehreen has a pint with (proof they, as compared with the “Mirpuris”, are better assimilated, by the way).”

I didn’t have a pint with them. I don’t drink. Lazy lie. I was shadowing a family and this is one location they took me to.

“Ugandan-Gujeratis largely migrated from different class backgrounds with more social capital than migrants from Kashmir who came to the UK specifically due to the colonial link and the metropole’s calls for unskilled industrial labourers after the second world war. If this had been a rigorous investigation Swann Productions could have included these factors…”

So… I guess this documentary was in fact a “rigorous investigation by Swann Productions” (Swan Films) as the “different class backgrounds” that the Ugandan-Gujeratis and Kashmiris migrated from were discussed at various points. (Various comm: “A decade after Mirpuri Pakistanis started settling in the north, another Asian group had a very different experience of migration to Britain. … The Asian elite live Western, sophisticated lives. They enjoy the recreation of the affluent, they earn £5, 10, 20,000 a year. They reside in expensive house and retain a cluster of servants… In the 1950’s Mirpur was a collection of small villages in rural Kashmir… But then the building of the Mangla dam flooded the entire valley, displacing over 100,000 people… Many of the men went to places like Bradford at the invitation of the British government… What must have it taken for a farmer from Mirpur, from old Mirpur to pack up their bags end up in Bradford to start a life and to support their families. How much hard work must that have taken?”)

“I received responses from two separate men who informed me that they had been filmed extensively for the production – only to find out recently that they had been dropped because, as the producers told them, their lives reflected “what’s going right”, not “what’s going wrong”.”

Shock horror! Who would have thought that when a month’s intense filming is condensed into 60 minutes, not every person you interviewed is included in the final edit? It is impossible to show everything and everyone who was filmed – and contributors are well aware of this before partaking in the project. I understand and appreciate the disappointment this may cause. Initially, we absolutely wanted to show a range of Asian communities, as the title suggests, but in the end we were unable to do so. Ultimately, I am not a casting director, researcher or editor. But reading about the “lightest skin” contributor deliberately being chosen (again, because of some colonisation theory, I think) did make me laugh aloud. Somehow, I don’t think that skin shade was a factor which was considered when casting – but some people do find the strangest things to be offended about.

“By erasing stories of financial success, educational attainment or defeating the structural odds…”

Yes, this would be great to see! However, statistically, Pakistani boys are amongst the lowest performing ethnic groups. This is a fact. Facts cannot be argued with. It would not be logical to select and celebrate the highest achieving Pakistani “success stories” in a documentary which is exploring the factors contributing to their academic decline.

“…participants were disrespected…”

I have always ensured that every participant is treated with utmost respect. That is what I do. I treat people with respect. Nobody can challenge me on that.

“This documentary should have been presented as the opinion piece of an uninformed outsider…”

So, apparently, if a “white man” led the show it would be better. Funny how we argue about misrepresentation or lack of diversity – yet we stop mainstream Asian voices when there are opportunities to have constructive debates.

“…give the mic to “Asian boys” to speak on their own terms, accept contradictory viewpoints, investigate the context and history, and question the role of masculinity among young men more generally. But unfortunately, yet again, Bradford’s boys have been spoken over…”

Nav’s sister’s law degree and his reasons of dropping out of University were shown through his own voice. Danyal’s experience and the lack of opportunities around him were presented through his own voice. Lucky’s struggle to support his family and fulfil the role of the “man of the house” since the age of thirteen was established through his own voice. Everyone in this documentary gave honest accounts of their experiences, in their own words. None of them were spoken for. Yes, absolutely, if there was more time, more could have been done. But this documentary was never intended to provide definitive answers – it was just the start of a discussion. And at least, now, the discussion has started. The issues are far too complex to do justice to in 60 minutes, but to ignore them or forbid people to talk about them is disingenuous – and I refuse to be silenced.