I HAVE previously written about what I saw as the rise of far-right ideology, clothed in what I feared was becoming the acceptable language of right-wing politics here, in mainland Europe and the Americas.

Politicians, speaking of who is in, who is out, who is welcome, who is not, legitimised the language, which forms the basis of their policies – erecting walls and barbed-wire fences.

We have to not merely guard against the rise of hate speech and actions, but are required to act as well. That doesn’t mean something outrageous, radical or threatening. Violence and hate should not lead to more of the same. That it does is one part of a cycle we must try to break.

I have exhorted support and solidarity in whatever form it can be offered. But I also remember the days after acts of Islamist extremists, when society told me I had to be more vocal, to publicly denounce the evils of Islam and let the world know these acts were “not in my name”.

I did so time and time again. After the attack in Mumbai, I felt I had to write to dear friends with family “somewhere” in India and remind them that the difference in our faiths was just part of what bound us together. I had become an apologist. I was trying to prove that I wasn’t part of the problem, the issue that had to be resolved. I was desperate to show that I am not them.

I then tried a different tactic: explaining we’re not one homogenous mass, talking about third and fourth generations settled here in Scotland. But I don’t do that anymore either.

No-one asks you, or you, or you, to apologise for Anders Brevik or Brenton Tarrant or any of their predecessors. So I’ve stopped doing all of that.

But I can’t help but wonder about the mindset in sections of the press and social media that appears to want to turn the alleged perpetrator into a cute little boy who lost his father to cancer and appears to have travelled abroad subsequently, complete with sunny, smiling baby photos.

Did travelling to “dangerous” countries, possibly Pakistan and North Korea, change him? What are the chances that he was more influenced by everyday content seen online, with hate speech all too readily accessible on websites spewing supremacist ideology? And by promoting this “alternative view”, to whom are certain newspapers and websites attempting to appeal and to what end? I admit to looking at some normally avoided online papers and comments, and have seen “well, they’ll know what it feels like now”, and “they don’t like it up ‘em”.

We don’t need reminding do we, that young women left home in London and travelled to Syria to join Daesh, but I don’t recollect nice words and photos of their cosy, earlier family and home, and queries as to why they had gone down that route. We were to accept the not too subtle interpretation, the narrative as laid out.

There are double standards everywhere: politicians, press, media, historical perspectives and history itself. But here and now, we have seen the courage of Jacinda Arden and the New Zealand government intending to raise the intake of refugees to 1500 in 2020, to review their gun laws and other legislation.

Sadly, and in contrast, we know our nation operates under an imposed discriminatory immigration policy – Windrush, “go home” vans and innumerable instances of discrimination of fatal, incorrect or inhumane judgements. We should be proud of when Scotland does push back and celebrate our

limited success.

And now? Vigilance, yes, but less suspicion of others, a rejection of the dehumanising the outsider and the readiness to accept the story line as laid out for us. We need more of “They are us”. After all, I am you.

Selma Rahman

Edinburgh