The Illusion of Harmony? Rethinking the Multiculturalism Project

As a student in the early 1990s, I was immersed in the optimism of the age. In our Community Drama workshops, we explored the values of inclusivity, diversity, and cultural celebration. The ideal of multiculturalism was not just encouraged, it was revered. It was the spirit of the times, the zeitgeist.

But this reflection emerges from a different place, one shaped by social unrest, economic anxiety, and a coiling tension in the collective psyche. There is an energy in the air now that feels volatile. Anger simmers. Trust erodes. People feel left behind, economically stretched, and culturally disoriented.

Historically, times of economic hardship, think of the 1970s and 1980s in Britain, have led not just to social discontent, but to outbreaks of violence and division. Race, we are told, was the issue. But underneath the banner headlines and slogans, there was always a deeper driver: economic despair.

Yet today’s reflection is not about race. Nor is it an attack on any particular group. It’s about the limits and perhaps the illusions, of multiculturalism itself. Because multiculturalism, as we’ve known it, is not deep enough to encompass the true complexity of culture. Within culture lies religion. And within religion, particularly when it is orthodox, fundamentalist, or theocratic, culture is not just shaped, but governed.

And here lies a hard truth: liberal tolerance often bends in one direction.

Who is doing the adapting in our society? Is it the newly arrived or culturally distinct group learning to coexist within a liberal democratic ethos? Or is it the liberal majority contorting itself to avoid conflict, to remain welcoming, and to preserve an ideal that may no longer be tenable?

At what point do we ask: what happens when cultures within a shared society not only differ but clash at the level of core values, particularly around gender, sexuality, freedom of speech, and secular governance?

Let us enter uncomfortable territory.

There are voices, often dismissed or vilified, that have raised genuine concerns. One such voice is that of the controversial activist and journalist Tommy Robinson. (Yes, I name him knowing it may make many bristle.) Robinson has sounded the alarm over grooming gangs in towns like Rotherham, Telford, and his own Luton, cases now widely acknowledged to have been under-investigated due to fear of being perceived as racist.

While many of his methods and rhetoric have been rightly criticised, the fact remains: it took pressure from people like him, and brave survivors, to prompt national reviews and government action. Why was this allowed to fester for so long? What cultural sensitivities were tiptoed around at the expense of truth and justice?

There is now a creeping perception, rightly or wrongly, of a two-tier legal and political system: one for minority communities, and one for the so-called “indigenous” population. Whether or not this is true, the perception is powerful, and it is fuelling resentment.

This is where the liberal project finds itself in crisis.

When a Member of Parliament can stand before a conservative religious gathering and pledge allegiance to their international concerns, not as a matter of global policy, but as a campaign strategy, what are we witnessing? When religious leaders instruct congregants how to vote, and political parties respond with appeasement, are we not witnessing a theocracy within a democracy?

This is not the dream of multiculturalism. This is a quiet betrayal of the liberal values many of us still hold dear.

None of this is to demonise any faith or community. The vast majority of Muslims in the UK are peaceful, civic-minded citizens. But the question is not about individuals. It’s about structures, ideologies, and political entanglements.

And so, we find ourselves caught in a dangerous bind: between silence and scapegoating. Between naïve idealism and bitter reaction. The space for honest, difficult conversation is shrinking, choked by fear of offence, accusation, or reprisal.

But unless we reclaim that space, compassionately, courageously, and with intellectual integrity - we will continue to fracture as a society.

The multiculturalism of the 1990s asked us to celebrate difference. But the reality of 2025 demands something more: a mature reckoning with what happens when differences go beyond food, festivals, and costume, and begin to shape law, politics, and rights in ways that challenge the very foundation of a free society.

We must ask: what kind of society are we becoming? And who gets to shape its soul?