Leaving Islam — The civil rights movement you probably haven’t heard of yet

Many young British people still suffer threats when they tell their families they are no longer religious. Meet Imtiaz Shams, an Ex-Muslim activist daring to speak out.

Spring, 1969: The new social movements of the past decade has inspired LGBT activists to become more radical, and a handful of transexuals, lesbians, and gay men in drag are in the midst of a clash with police in riot gear.

Amongst a sea of rainbow profile pictures and colourful parades marching throughout the majority of British cities, the era of raging homophobia now often seems a world away.

But for a growing number of ex-Muslim Britons, their own personal battle has only just begun.

Imtiaz Shams is an energetic 27-year-old tech worker who runs a group called Faith to Faithless, an online network that seeks to connect non-Muslim believers looking for support. Imtiaz is and funny and speaks proudly about the other ex-Muslims he supports, but his voice cracks when he tells his own story of leaving Islam in 2012.

“It’s very very isolating, it’s like feeling like an alien. You can’t explain who you are and everything you knew to be true goes away.

“I didn’t know anyone else like me or anyone who had left their religion. So not only do you feel like an alien in your skin, you feel like you’re the only alien on earth who feels like this.”

Leaving a belief system in the 21st century is something many of us would now take for granted, but blasphemy laws around the world mean many non-believers are faced with state persecution, imprisonment and torture.

Although the risk of physical violence is proportionately less for those who grow up in the UK, forced marriages and kidnappings are amongst the list of hidden crises Imtiaz deals with on almost a daily basis.

“A lot of what happens is about family discontent and abuse. We’ve had kids who have been kicked out into the street, being told that they will send their family to hell and they don’t deserve to have a good life.

“If you’re a woman, a lot of parents will just assume that you want to have sex and drink. I’ve heard mothers ask their own children; ‘do you want to go out and be a prostitute?’”

With a hint of disappointment in his voice, the London-based tech-entrepreneur explains how his group is often branded Islamophobic by leftist activists — the very people Imtiaz believed would be most inclined to help.

Although Faith to Faithless’s very first event was held at Queen Mary University of London, they have since been ‘no platformed’ in a string of attempts to talk on campuses since. Imtiaz tells how his friend and co-founder of Faith to Faithless, Aliyah Saleem, experienced rejection by feminist societies despite leaving Islam after discovering feminism.

The activists’ dilemma is similar that of the Ex-Muslim-Council of Britain, who were banned from speaking at Warwickshire University last September.

“There’s this weird paternalistic relationship people have when they try and protect muslims from those who are actually from their own backgrounds,” explains Imtiaz.

Growing up in Saudi-Arabia, travelling to Makkah every year and settling into a British secondary school just after 9/11, it’s easy to forget that the 27-year-old was the once the once the devout Muslim his critics claim he is attacking. After all, if there’s anyone who understands what the contemporary fear of Islam feels like, it has to be man who was nicknamed ‘terrorist’ as a teenager.

For that reason, Imtiaz claims that a lot of ex-Muslims are very vocal about anti-muslim bigotry, and are careful to criticise Islam and ideology rather than Muslims.

“My mum is a muslim, how could I attack muslims when I would be attacking my family?” the once chirpy Londoner explains angrily.

On a more positive note, Shams claims he holds out hope for a once ostracised community breaking into the mainstream. Rather than declaring himself a fully-fledged atheist, Imtiaz’s own faith system centres around the idea of minority groups like his living without fear.

“Who wants to call themselves an ex-Muslim?” he jokes.

“It’s my belief that things will move forward. I’ve seen change happen with LGBT people in the UK, and in the same way we’re having that now.

“Just four years ago people in my community didn’t know about us and now there’s mosques in my area talking about it. They don’t say positive stuff, but they’re still talking about us.”

If you search Youtube for ‘Ex-Muslim’ voices, you will see the speakers of Faith to Faithless to be pleasant, brave and articulate and individuals. And with a number of people in the UK with no religion almost doubling in recent years, they’re not so different to a growing proportion of us, after all.