
MANY MUSLIMS IN the West today feel uncertain about their place in the world. Some wonder how to live faithfully in a society where Islam is a minority. Others notice that Islam itself is increasingly understood through the lens of being a minority: what is safe to say, what can be practised, what is respected or rewarded.
This question is not new. Historically, Muslims living outside the heartlands of Islam have always had to reflect on where they belong and how they should act. One of the earliest examples is the migration to Abyssinia, where some of the Prophet ﷺ’s followers sought safety with the just Negus from persecution in Makkah. Scholars have also noted that this migration served as a contingency, an external outpost should the call in Makkah be extinguished.
The story is often told as one of tolerance and coexistence. But a more important lesson lies in orientation: the Muslims in Abyssinia were safe, yet their sense of meaning and purpose remained tied to Arabia, where Islam was contested, resisted, and shaped. Abyssinia was a refuge, not a direction. This distinction, between survival and shaping the future, remains central for Muslims in the diaspora today.
A Shift in the Diaspora Experience
Muslims living in the Western diaspora now inhabit a very different context. Many are not recent migrants or refugees. They are citizens, professionals, and institution-builders. Entire generations have been born and raised in societies where Islam exists permanently as a minority.
What is new is not minority status itself, but a subtler shift: a gradual reorientation of meaning. Increasingly, Islam in the diaspora is imagined, discussed, and developed as if this minority condition is not only permanent but normative.
This perspective is shaped by external forces. Practices aligned with secular liberal values are encouraged, while policies like Prevent or the government’s “muscular liberalism” impose limits when religious speech or practice crosses perceived boundaries. Over time, this mix of incentives and constraints shapes what can be openly said, taught, or practised.
Living in this environment changes how Islam is understood. The West stops being just a home; it becomes the lens through which many Muslims experience Islam. This shift does not occur because Muslims reject the wider Muslim world. It happens quietly, as people adapt to the realities around them, often without noticing.
Islam Reframed Around the Diaspora
A growing body of discourse treats the diaspora experience as a self-contained reality. Islam is often discussed in terms of personal faith, character, family life, mental health, and living peacefully as a minority. These are important concerns, but they do not capture the full picture.
Mosques, schools, and community organisations operate under social and legal pressures that shape how Islam is presented. Leaders and scholars often frame Islam in ways that are safe, understandable, and publicly acceptable. Over time, this shapes how Islam sounds in everyday life.
Gradually, some aspects of Islam are emphasised repeatedly, while others are mentioned less or only in theory. Questions about authority, law, or Islam’s role in shaping society begin to feel distant or irrelevant. Islam is no longer imagined as something that could shape society; it becomes something that survives within it.
The Muslim World as Background
Alongside this shift comes a growing emotional and intellectual distance from the Muslim world. Wars, occupations, and political crises are followed with concern, but often as news rather than struggles directly connected to daily life. With some exceptions, like Palestine, these events can feel far away.
For younger (third or fourth generation) Muslims in particular, this distance is usually inherited rather than chosen. They grow up with Islam as a personal, secularised identity and the West as the only world they know. The Muslim world often exists as culture, heritage, or humanitarian concern rather than the centre of the ummah’s ongoing journey. The result is not hostility but detachment.
The Emerging Diaspora Imagination
Over time, these dynamics shape a new way of imagining Islam. Islam in the diaspora develops its own sense of what is possible and realistic. Success is measured by safety, acceptance, and influence within Western society. Anything outside that frame gradually disappears from discussion.
This process does not occur through conscious rejection of Islam’s comprehensiveness. It happens through silence, through what is left unsaid. Certain questions stop being asked; certain possibilities stop being imagined.
At this point, the issue is no longer simply where Muslims live; it becomes what Islam is expected to be.
Abyssinia Reconsidered
The question for Muslims in the West today is not whether Islam can survive here. It can, and it does. The deeper question is whether this Islam will continue to be connected to a broader Muslim world, as part of a civilizational story that reaches beyond safety, comfort, and recognition.
Or will it quietly follow a separate path, shaped primarily by what is accepted, rewarded, and allowed in secular liberal society? Over time, this path narrows the horizons of imagination, leaving many to measure success by stability and survival rather than vision and influence.
Reflecting on Abyssinia reminds us that refuge alone does not determine the course of history. What matters is where our hearts, attention, and efforts are oriented. If Islam in the diaspora is to remain connected to the struggles, questions, and possibilities of the wider ummah, that orientation must be maintained consciously, not assumed, inherited, or left to drift.
