A Country on Edge: Why Hate Against UK Communities Feels Harder to Ignore

5 May 2026

Paul Francis

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When One Attack Becomes Part of a Larger Fear

The attack in Golders Green on 29 April 2026 was shocking not only because two Jewish men were stabbed in north London, but because it landed in a country already struggling with a growing sense that hatred is becoming louder, more visible and harder to contain. Police are treating the incident as terrorism-related, while also investigating whether the victims were targeted because they were Jewish.

Police tape wraps around a tree in a park, reading "Police Line Do Not Cross." The setting is overcast with a path and foliage.

For Britain’s Jewish community, this did not arrive in isolation. It came after a period in which antisemitic incidents have remained at historically high levels, with the Community Security Trust recording 3,700 antisemitic incidents in the UK in 2025, the second-highest annual total it has ever reported.

Is Britain Becoming More Hostile?

The uncomfortable answer is that hate crime remains a serious and widespread problem in the UK, although the picture is not simple. Home Office figures for England and Wales recorded 115,990 hate crimes in the year ending March 2025, with race hate crimes rising by 6% and religious hate crimes rising by 3%. Anti-Muslim religious hate crimes rose by 19%, showing that hostility is not confined to one community or one political moment.

Anti-Muslim hate has become especially concerning. Tell MAMA recorded 6,313 anti-Muslim hate cases in 2024, its highest annual total since the project began, with sharp rises in street-based incidents and abuse targeting visibly Muslim people.

LGBTQ+ communities are also still facing high levels of abuse and intimidation. Stonewall notes that there were more than 18,000 hate crimes motivated by sexual orientation and more than 3,000 trans-related hate crimes in England and Wales between March 2024 and March 2025.

The Common Thread: Fear Becoming Public

What links these figures is not that every form of hate is the same, because it is not. Antisemitism, Islamophobia, racism, homophobia, transphobia and disability hate each have their own histories, triggers and language. But they share something important in the present moment. They are increasingly visible in public life, online spaces and everyday interactions.

That visibility matters because hate does not begin with violence. It often begins with language, suspicion and social permission. When communities are repeatedly portrayed as threats, outsiders or problems to be managed, the distance between prejudice and action begins to narrow.

The Golders Green attack is therefore not just a local or isolated incident. It sits inside a wider climate where many communities feel exposed, whether in synagogues, mosques, schools, public transport, workplaces or online.

Why Does It Feel Worse Now?

Part of the answer lies in the way modern events are filtered through social media. Global conflicts, political arguments and local tragedies now travel instantly, often stripped of context and reshaped into outrage. The Israel-Gaza war has intensified both antisemitic and anti-Muslim hostility in the UK, while Tell MAMA has also linked spikes in anti-Muslim hate to events including the Southport murders, the general election and wider Middle East tensions.

Economic pressure also plays a role. When people feel insecure, whether through housing costs, wage stagnation, public service strain or broader distrust of institutions, the temptation to blame an identifiable group becomes stronger. Hate movements have always fed on uncertainty. The difference now is speed. Rumour, resentment and conspiracy can move from fringe spaces into mainstream feeds within hours.

There is also the issue of politics itself. Public debate has become harder, more performative and less careful. When arguments about migration, religion, gender or identity are framed in dehumanising terms, they do not remain neatly inside Westminster or television studios. They spill into the street.

Reporting Does Not Tell the Whole Story

It is important to be honest about the limits of the data. Rising recorded hate crime can reflect real increases, but it can also reflect better reporting, improved police recording or greater confidence among victims. At the same time, many victims still do not report what happens to them, meaning official figures can understate the scale of the problem.

That does not weaken the argument. If anything, it shows why the issue is more complicated than a single headline number. The statistics are not the whole story, but they are strong enough to confirm that many communities are living with a heightened sense of vulnerability.

A Country That Needs to Look at Itself

The danger is that Britain treats these incidents as separate crises. An antisemitic attack is discussed in one lane, anti-Muslim hate in another, racist abuse somewhere else, and LGBTQ+ hate as a different debate entirely. That approach misses the broader pattern.

A society does not become safer by ranking pain. It becomes safer by recognising when hostility itself is becoming normalised.

That does not mean ignoring the specific experiences of different groups. It means understanding that the same cultural conditions can make multiple communities feel unsafe at once: polarisation, misinformation, economic anxiety, weak trust and political language that sharpens division rather than reducing it.

The Question We Should Be Asking

The question is not simply whether hate is rising. The deeper question is why so many people now feel that public life has become more hostile, more suspicious and less restrained.

Golders Green should be treated with the seriousness it deserves. But it should also force a wider conversation about what is happening around us. Hate does not appear from nowhere. It grows in climates where people feel licensed to say more, blame more and care less about who is made afraid.

If Britain wants to be serious about community safety, it cannot only respond after attacks. It has to look at the conditions that allow hatred to harden long before violence takes place.

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Stepping Back Into the Spotlight: Rediscovering the Joy of Performance

Gregory Devine
Nov 20, 2023
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Back when I was a child in primary school and secondary school I loved performing. Where many kids my age would’ve hated any public speaking I genuinely enjoyed it. The rush you get I think is unmatched. It's a mixture of excitement and nerves at first, but once you get started and find your rhythm those nerves start to go away and the adrenaline kicks in.

Now I’m 22 and at university, those chances to perform are few and far between. I really don’t care for musical theatre and I’m not studying drama like I was back in secondary school. The closest thing I had to those experiences back in school was probably at college and whilst on placement at ITK’s sister company, Novus. At college I was involved in a lot of promotional videos and content for the brand-new T-Level qualification and at Novus I'd do short videos on my time while on placement. I also did short adverts for ITK’s social media pages.

These videos almost gave that same buzz but not quite. Don’t get me wrong I really enjoyed these but not to the same extent as being able to see all the eyes on you. Talking to a camera just isn’t the same. There’s not that instant feedback of a laugh or an obvious face of “this isn’t going too well”. This week I had the chance to change that thanks to a new gig I was about to start.

I was going to be the MC at a student boxing event. For 3 hours my job would be to introduce fellow students into the ring and hype up a crowd full of those boxers' mates. It’d been a long time since I’d done anything remotely like this. The last time I’d spoken in front of a crowd this big was never. The closest I’d come was maybe as a 10-year-old in performance at the crucible but this was different. This was an event I’d been to and loved as a spectator and now I was essentially presenting it.

I know I’m playing it up but to say I was excited was a massive understatement. I also know this night is really about the fighters. They’re the ones that had for the last 8 weeks been in a training camp, learning a sport that might be completely new to them, and then having to perform in front of a crowd. That’s extremely daunting. The point is most people there weren’t there to see me, my job was simply to help make their night better.

When I first stepped into the ring I might have been looking dapper in my tuxedo but inside I was bricking it. It’d been so long since I spoke or performed in front of a crowd. I looked down at my script, I could barely read the words I was shaking that much. Then the adrenaline kicked in, and I belted out a “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to fight night!” Then that feeling came back, the rush brought a smile straight to my face and the cheers of the crowd gave me the confidence to just go for it. I introduced the night, bantered with the crowd about their choice of university and introduced the first fight. Then it was time to get back out of the ring.

I sat down outside the ring. At this point, I think I finally breathed. I felt my forehead, it was dripping with sweat but I loved it. I knew I could do this and do it well. I didn’t need the script, I just needed to be me and enjoy this moment. The rest of the night went brilliantly. As I announced more fights my confidence grew and I probably stopped talking so quickly too.

Before this, I’d be struggling to find something enjoyable at university. Going out isn’t the same as it used to be. I might just be getting older. It felt like I’d found a hobby almost, but one I could get paid for too. That evening I felt like a celebrity, walking out the venue people were talking to me, saying how good a job I’d done. It was instant positive feedback, something I’d been craving for so long. What was at first a daunting experience I was excited yet apprehensive about, became the best thing for my mental health in years.