London’s 'Young Imam' Is Changing How People See Islam — One Video at a Time

“I’d never done social media before,” Sabah Ahmedi told me as he carefully balanced his phone between a napkin dispenser and sugar shaker at a chai shop in South London’s Tooting district. “Never done TikTok, Instagram, Facebook,” he said.  

“Whatever was out there, I’d never done it.” 

These days, you would never guess it. With tens of thousands of followers and multiple viral videos to his credit, Ahmedi — known as “The Young Imam”  — is a social media sensation.  

And, perhaps more importantly, his is a voice for peacebuilding and bridging divides in a time when xenophobia, antisemitism, and anti-Muslim rhetoric and violence are gripping the United Kingdom.

His journey started in 2020 when, fresh out of the Ahmadiyya seminary in Surrey, he was assigned to the press office at Baitul Futuh in Morden, one of Europe’s largest mosques. Feeling called to be a faith leader out of a sense of justice, he said he was blessed to be in the role.   

But he wasn’t very good at it, he says. “I couldn’t write a presser [press release] to save my life,” he said. His boss told him to figure things out, or he might have to find a new position. So, sitting with a friend at the same chai shop, he decided to start a social media account. The plan was to share the daily life of a faith leader in the UK.  

“Here we are now, five years later,” he said as the camera on his phone captured us splitting a slice of banana bread and chatting about his adventures online. “The account has grown into so many things — a book deal, TV appearances, entertainment contracts.”  

More than being Instagram famous, the account has also fostered opportunities for inter-religious understanding in a time of increasing polarization in British society. With a rise in anti-religious rhetoric and hate directed at Muslims like him, Ahmedi knows it’s essential to show a different side to the Sacred — and to do it in a way that is accessible and digestible for as many people as possible. Through 15-second clips and day-in-the-life reels, Ahmedi creates a vibe that is honest and compassionate, inviting viewers in a spiritually fragmented and relationally polarized society to adopt postures of love, openness, and curiosity. 

What's behind the rising hate?

At the end of last year, the uptick in antisemitic and Islamophobic incidents in the U.S. and around the globe captured headlines as part of the fallout from the Israel-Hamas war.

Reactions were swift and widespread, as university presidents resigned, demonstrators took to the streets in places such as Berlin and Paris and the White House promised to take steps to curb religious and faith-based hate in the U.S.

The topic of rising discrimination and incidents of hate remains contentious, as political polarization and debate over definitions challenge reporters covering the issues.

But before we come to conclusions, it’s important to consider a) what we are talking about - or - how we define antisemitism and Islamophobia and b) the long arc of “Other” hate across time.

In the latest editions of ReligionLink and “What You Missed Without Religion Class,” I unpack both so we can better understand and react to the surge in hate.

Lutherans for Racial Justice (LRJ) talks Islamophobia and anti-Muslim racism with Jordan Denari Duffner

Islam is not a race.

Muslims are not a race.

And yet, over time and in many and various ways, religious traditions and religious people have been racialized. 

That is to say, certain religions have been made into racial categories. 

Although there are many different people groups that can and do practice Islam is one of those religions that has been racialized. 

As a result, Muslims and others (like Sikhs) have been racially abused because of that fact. 

That’s why I think this conversation with Jordan Denari Duffner and her new book — about Islamophobia, what it is, and what Christians should do about it — is an important consideration for Lutherans in pursuit of racial justice. 

For Christians, learning more from Muslims, and how they suffer from racialized prejudice, injustice, and abuse — often because of our thoughts, words, and deeds — can help us better fulfill our call to love our neighbor.

When Islam Is Not a Religion: A Response to Asma Uddin

After wrapping up a Q&A session at a public conference where I presented on the topic of Islam and Christian-Muslim relations to a largely evangelical Christian audience, an older man who was sitting in the back approached me at the podium.

Rather nonchalantly, he asked, “You do know that the Constitution wasn’t written for Muslims, right?”

As we talked, he elaborated on his opinion that the concept of religious freedom does not apply to Islam and Muslims because, he said matter-of-factly, “Islam is not a religion.” At the time, it seemed to me a fringe theory cooked up in the dark corners of the internet or in 6am greasy-spoon breakfast meet-ups.

In short, I could not really believe — given my own biases — that people could actually think that the First Amendment and its promise of religious freedom did not extend to Islam and Muslims in the U.S.

However, far from fringe political theory or radical cultural posturing, this view has found its way into legal briefs, court cases, and political contexts in recent years. In fact, these legal and political perspectives are the fodder for Asma Uddin’s new book When Islam Is Not a Religion: Inside America’s Fight for Religious Freedom.

In this work, Uddin points out that many Americans insist that the religious liberty they so quickly claim for Christianity or Judaism (or other religions beyond the nation’s so-called “Judeo-Christian” heritage) does not extend to Islam and Muslims in the U.S.