‘I was ashamed to be Muslim after 9/11 – then realised terrorists would hate someone like me’

‘I was ashamed to be Muslim after 9/11 – then realised terrorists would hate someone like me’ 'If we really want to avenge that terrible day forever etched in our memories, we do it through building a tolerant, strong society', broadcaster and peer Ayesha Hazarika writes I will never forget the moment those planes crashed into the Twin Towers. I was 25, working in the press office of the then Department of Trade and Industry. The disbelief, horror and audacity of that terrorist attacks still feel like it was yesterday even though we have just marked the 25th anniversary. Everything changed that day. I remember feeling sick with grief at how pure evil can manifest itself. I wept for the desperation of those poor souls trapped in the buildings making their final frantic calls to loved ones and those who decided it would be better to jump. And I felt heartbroken about what lay ahead. Those evil men knew exactly what they were doing. As well as wanting to murder and maim as many innocent people, they wanted to destroy a Western way of life where people were living, working and co-existing side by side. They hated the fact that different communities rubbed alongside each other albeit messily and imperfectly. They wanted to kill the concept of a cohesive Western society as much as they did the people in those towers. Because they knew what would happen. Up until that moment in my young life, being a Muslim was not a big deal. Yes it was the religion I was born into, but I wasn’t hugely observant and it didn’t matter. Noone really cared. I had moved to London and was working hard to build my career in government circles and everywhere I looked, I saw people from different backgrounds all doing the same thing. We were all energetic, busy and hustling because that’s how Britain felt in that moment – full of opportunity regardless of where you came from or which God you did or didn’t worship. And all that changed overnight. Muslims and indeed anyone who looked slightly “dusky” was viewed with suspicion, fear and loathing whereas beforehand we had been an interesting part of the mix. I felt ashamed to be Muslim and felt somehow responsible until I realised that the sick people who committed these appalling crimes would hate someone like me and many other Muslims who had integrated and loved their lives in the West. And of course we have sadly seen huge amounts of anti-Muslim hate, division and extremism in the last 25 years. But we can and must try to rewrite the script. There can be a different ending. It’s easy to sow fear and hatred as we are seeing now. You don’t need a plane, you have your phone. It’s much harder to try to unite – but that is what we must do. We will always be better than the scumbags who carried out those attacks. Our way of life – inclusive, free and proud – is infinitely better than what they offer. And if we really want to avenge that terrible day forever etched in our memories, we do it through building a tolerant, strong society. Don’t let them win. 'We need to talk about defence' I’m part of a new Sky reality tv show called The War Game - a docu-thriller where a bunch of senior politicians roleplay how they would handle Britain being under attack. Not so much Love Island, more Threads meets The Thick Of It. It was a fascinating yet surreal experience and even though it was fiction, it did feel spookily realistic given geopolitics right now. I hope it will spark a much-needed national conversation not just about defence resources and spending, but also about becoming more resilient our homes, workplaces and in our local communities. And this isn’t just about war; it also applies to coping with extreme weather conditions. This is scary stuff, but it’s better to think about these things sooner. Although I think we’re safe from Michael Gove ever becoming PM. 'The Bayeux Tapestry tells enduring story' I was lucky enough to go see the Bayeux Tapestry at the British Museum. It’s a true wonder to behold especially all the vibrant colours and attention to detail. And even though it’s about 950 years old, it still tells an enduring story… loads of blokes kicking off, waving their willies about and all the hard work gets done by the nuns and female embroiders. Plus ça change. 'I hate hot weather' The nights are drawing in, temperatures are dropping and I couldn’t be happier! I hate hot weather and spent most of summer hiding from the sun like a small beige vampire. This is despite my Indian heritage, but I put that down to being raised in Glasgow. In my case, nature clearly does not trump nurture.