Are classes run by imams for young offenders the best means to tackle Islamic extremism and prevent prisons becoming 'universities of terror'?
Imam Abdul Dayan conducts one of his twice-weekly sessions with prisoners at Aylesbury young offender institution. Photograph: Graham Turner
The prisoners pad onto the mosque's blue carpet in their socks. Before them, the grey-bearded Imam Abdul Dayan sits cross-legged on the floor. He waits until his pupils – 10 male prisoners at Aylesbury young offender institution (YOI), Buckinghamshire – are seated quietly, then he begins: "Islam is your guiding force. But, without understanding, a book can confuse you. If people aren't contained by their religion, they go to extremes, and that can become destructive."
Dayan's three-hour sessions are open twice a week to any prisoner who wants to attend. His students are from a range of black and minority ethnic communities, as well as European backgrounds. Some have been coming for weeks, others for years. Some converted to Islam in prison, others grew up practising with their families – but all of them say that their faith has got stronger within the prison's walls.
"It's the only thing in here to do," says 21-year-old Ahtsham (not his real name). "Plus, the imam always finds a way of doing things right. If I had a problem with someone on the wing, I used to end up in a fight. Now I come to the imam and he tells me how to do things differently. I didn't expect that when I came to prison."
Radical twist
Each session follows a similar pattern: the prisoners memorise a passage from the Qur'an, then discuss how they might draw upon it in their daily lives. One of the latest passages they have learned is: "The Muslim who mixes with people and is patient over any harm he receives is superior to him who does not." Clearly, many of these quotes are selected to challenge extremist beliefs, and to safeguard against prisoners' faith taking a darker, more radical twist in prison.
There are currently almost 10,000 Muslims in British prisons – a 49% increase since 2004. The rise is fuelling concerns about the potential for prisons to become breeding grounds for extremism and religious tension. Although Muslims make up only 2.8% of the British population, they now comprise more than 12% of the prison estate. If anything, these numbers are likely to be underestimates, as they fail to include conversions inside.
Although only a tiny minority of Muslim prisoners are being held for terrorism-related offences, the counter-extremist thinktank, the Quilliam Foundation, published a report in November claiming that our jails were at risk of becoming "universities of terror".
But although there are concerns about "encouraging" Islamic practice in prison, some experts believe that facilitating moderate faith, such as the imam's class at Aylesbury YOI, is the best means to tackle extremism. As Kimmett Edgar, head of research at the Prison Reform Trust, explains: "When new inmates reach the prison gates, they are vulnerable to extremist influences – be that Islamic extremism or British nationalism. They have been uprooted from their families and communities, and they're often looking for a sense of belonging, or a group to offer them protection. If you give them what they need to practise their faith in a mainstream way, they will be less vulnerable to extreme forms."
After the 2006 inquiry into the murder of Zahid Mubarek, a 19-year-old Asian prisoner in Feltham YOI who was placed in a cell with a known white racist, efforts were made to make available more imams, prayer space and halal food. But according to James Brandon, author of the Quilliam report, these initiatives have their limits. He says: "Although these measures have helped address some Muslim concerns, too many more such steps risks aggravating other prisoners, who would feel that Muslims are getting special treatment."
When Dayan took up his post in 2001, it was to replace an imam who was dismissed for praising the 9/11 bombers to inmates. "It was a troublesome time," he recalls. "The young prisoners believed they were suffering from discrimination, and I thought so too. They had no one to guide them. I had to be careful not to create a vacuum with them or the staff. I had no credibility with anyone, and I was demotivated with what was happening globally in the media."
But after eight years of conducting sessions in the prison, Dayan seems to have assuaged concerns about providing "special treatment" for Muslims or encouraging extremism. He has earned the trust of the staff, and inmates have long ceased to shout insults at his traditional dress as he walks by.
Despite riots in 2008, when a gathering of prisoners to celebrate the Islamic festival of Eid turned violent and guards allegedly accused those involved of being "terrorists", Aylesbury is recognised as a leader for working with Muslim inmates. In a recent report, the Prisons Inspectorate found that 70% of Muslim prisoners at Aylesbury felt that their beliefs were respected, compared to just 54% from other religions.
Walking a tightrope
Of course, the job is not easy, and prisoners are always suspicious of whose side Dayan is on. He has a tightrope to walk between challenging a prisoner's beliefs and respecting them. In one of his mosque classes, the prisoners started openly questioning why two female guards at the back of the class should be allowed in.
"We don't run away from the problems," Dayan says. "Instead of saying, 'I'm the imam and I know what's best', I ask them whether their faith is just for men, or for women too. Sometimes [the prisoners] come in with a closed mentality. If you don't deal with that properly, they'll go off and cause trouble and they won't work with you."
Despite the difficulties, Dayan believes that his work is making a real difference. "It's admirable that people labelled as convicts and gangsters come here and spend their time sitting and reading," he says. "It humbles me when they memorise the Qur'an and emulate its goodness."
But he says that the work of imams in most prisons is undervalued and underresourced, and that newer, competing government initiatives to tackle extremism among Muslim prisoners may be at odds with those designed by long-standing teams of chaplains to safeguard prisoners' welfare.
Ahtsham is testimony to Dayan's approach. Far from being a source of trouble, he believes Islam is a source of reformation. "I've changed a lot since I started coming here," he says. "I didn't think I was hurting people by dealing drugs, but now I've come to think differently. I don't have beef with people any more.
"On the road, I'd live [each] day as it comes, but now I'm looking forward to a future and a family. You only realise how important faith is when everything else is taken away."
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