Key Takeaways
- Shahed Saleem’s exhibition I Was Born Here occupies the V&A East Storehouse beneath a 536‑year‑old Islamic‑inspired Spanish ceiling from Torrijos, Spain.
- Three large tapestries weave together contemporary UK hostile‑environment signage, historic episodes of religious persecution, and vibrant scenes of London’s Muslim‑led market life.
- The work confronts rising xenophobia in Britain—highlighted by Reform UK’s electoral gains and Belfast riots—while invoking centuries‑old European Muslim presence.
- Historian Tharik Hussain links the Spanish Inquisition’s eradication of Muslims and Jews to today’s ethno‑nationalist narratives that frame Islam as foreign to Europe.
- Visitors note the irony of celebrating Islamic art in auctions while anti‑Muslim crimes increase, underscoring a persistent orientalist fascination coupled with marginalisation.
- Saleem argues that colonisation abroad and ethno‑nationalism at home jointly forged the modern European nation‑state, a process still evident in current immigration policies.
- Personal testimonies, such as that of Imran Haque, affirm that British Muslims are not newcomers but integral, long‑standing members of society.
- The exhibition functions as both political commentary and a historical artefact, intended to document the contemporary wave of Islamophobia for future generations.
Overview of the Exhibition and Its Setting
Shahed Saleem’s I Was Born Here debuted at the newly opened V&A East Storehouse in Stratford, London. The centrepiece of the space is a remarkable 536‑year‑old wooden ceiling, originally crafted in the central Spanish town of Torrijos and adorned with intricate Islamic‑inspired carving and gilding. Saleem was commissioned by the Victoria and Albert Museum to create an installation that would resonate with the local community while engaging directly with this historic architectural feature. The result is a trio of monumental tapestries that hang beneath the ceiling, each measuring several metres in height and width, and together they form a visual narrative linking past and present experiences of Muslim communities in Europe.
The “Home Office” Tapestry: State‑Sponsored Hostility
The first tapestry, titled Home Office, directly incorporates verbatim excerpts from the British Home Office’s 2013 “Hostile Environment” campaign. Phrases such as “106 ARRESTS LAST WEEK IN YOUR AREA,” “In the UK Illegally?” and the stark directive “GO HOME OR FACE ARREST” are woven into the fabric, set against a backdrop of Alhambra‑style geometric patterns. By placing these contemporary government messages alongside motifs drawn from medieval Islamic Spain, Saleem highlights the continuity of exclusionary rhetoric that targets migrants and minorities. The tapestry serves as a stark reminder that policies designed to intimidate undocumented immigrants are still visible in everyday public spaces.
Remembering Altab Ali and the Legacy of Racist Violence
The second tapestry centres on a portrait of Altab Ali, a 24‑year‑old Bangladeshi textile worker who was stabbed to death in a racially motivated attack in London’s St Mary’s Park in 1978. Surrounding his likeness are subtle references to the broader context of racial tension in late‑1970s Britain, including hints of the era’s industrial decline and the rise of far‑right groups. Saleem’s rendering of Ali’s face is both dignified and sombre, inviting viewers to confront the brutal reality of hate‑crime that continues to echo in contemporary society. The piece underscores how individual tragedies become emblematic of systemic prejudice against Muslim and migrant communities.
Echoes of Colonisation: The Santa Maria Voyage
Across the lower portion of the second tapestry, Saleem includes a depiction of the Santa Maria, the flagship of Christopher Columbus’s 1492 expedition funded by the Spanish monarchy. This image marks the symbolic beginning of Europe’s colonisation of the Americas—a process that, as Saleem notes, went hand‑in‑hand with the consolidation of ethno‑nationalist ideas at home. By juxtaposing the voyage with the Alhambra patterns and the hostile‑environment signage, the artist draws a line from early modern imperial expansion to today’s immigration politics, suggesting that the logic of “othering” has persisted across centuries.
The Market Tapestry: Celebrating Everyday Muslim Life
A third, vibrant tapestry portrays a bustling scene at Newham’s Queen’s Market, a publicly owned space long cherished by London’s diverse communities. Market‑goers of various ages, ethnicities, and attire are shown negotiating stalls, exchanging goods, and sharing conversation. Saleem explains that this panel captures the creativity, labour, and daily life of people who are disproportionately affected by restrictive immigration legislation, yet who also embody the multicultural fabric of contemporary Britain. The market’s recent struggle against corporate development threats adds a layer of urgency, framing the tapestry as both a celebration and a defence of communal space.
Institutional Hospitality and Resistance: The Bell and Britannia Hotels
Woven into the same market tapestry—or appearing as a complementary panel, depending on the viewing angle—are stylised representations of The Bell Hotel and the Britannia Hotel in Essex, both of which have been repurposed to house asylum seekers. Last July, a group of far‑right protesters attempted to storm The Bell Hotel, an act that resulted in several convictions for violent disorder. By placing these hotels alongside the market scene, Saleem underscores the tension between humanitarian hospitality and hostile backlash, illustrating how sites of refuge can become flashpoints for xenophobic aggression.
Historical Perspective: Tharik Hussain on the Spanish Inquisition
Historian Tharik Hussain, author of Muslim Europe: A Journey in Search of a Fourteen Hundred Year History, provides scholarly context for Saleem’s work. He reminds viewers that while the period following the Reconquista is often celebrated as the dawn of Spain’s “Golden Age,” it also ushered in one of Europe’s most aggressive campaigns of religious and ethnic homogenisation. Over the ensuing centuries, hundreds of thousands of Muslims and Jews were expelled, forced to convert, or killed, despite having lived on the Iberian Peninsula for generations. Hussain notes that Christian Europe has repeatedly admired Islamic artistic achievements while simultaneously marginalising and persecuting Muslim populations—a paradox that Saleem’s exhibition brings into sharp relief.
Visitor Reflections: Irony of Orientalism and Rising Islamophobia
Twenty‑six‑year‑old visitor Hana articulated a poignant observation: although the tapestries root their narratives in historic events, the themes feel palpably alive today. She pointed out the irony of exhibiting a centuries‑old Islamic‑inspired ceiling alongside artwork that depicts contemporary hostile‑environment signage—a visual metaphor for Europe’s simultaneous fascination with Islamic art (“orientalism”) and its growing intolerance toward Muslim communities. In the past year, Islamic artefacts have fetched record sums at London auction houses, while anti‑Muslim hate crimes have risen, underscoring a dissonance between cultural appreciation and social hostility.
Saleem’s Analysis: Colonisation, Ethno‑Nationalism, and the Modern Nation‑State
Saleem himself frames the exhibition as a commentary on how colonial expansion abroad and the construction of ethno‑nationalist identity at home co‑produced the modern European nation‑state. He argues that the projects of extracting wealth from overseas territories and defining a pure, homogeneous “national” populace were mutually reinforcing processes that continue to shape immigration policy, citizenship laws, and public discourse. The tapestries, therefore, are not merely artistic expressions; they are visual arguments urging viewers to recognise the deep historical roots of contemporary exclusionary politics.
Personal Testimony and the Exhibit as an Artefact
Imran Haque, a 25‑year‑old British Bangladeshi, shared that I Was Born Here resonates with his own family’s story. His mother and her friends, newly arrived from Bangladesh in the 1970s, frequented the very Queen’s Market that Saleem depicted, purchasing fabrics and building community ties. For Haque, the title of the exhibit is a direct rebuttal to the pervasive demand that Muslims and non‑white Britons continually prove their belonging. By asserting “I was born here,” the work challenges the notion that Muslim presence is a recent or foreign phenomenon, reminding audiences that Islam has been part of British life since at least the sixteenth century. Saleem concludes that the installation functions as an artefact—a timestamped document of an era marked by surging Islamophobia, anti‑migrant sentiment, and historical revisionism that attempts to erase Europe’s Muslim heritage. He hopes that future viewers will read the tapestries as a testament to both the struggles and the enduring contributions of Muslim communities in Europe.

