Letter to Gareth Southgate

Dear Gareth Southgate,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to take a moment to reflect on your recent speech, which captured some of the most urgent issues facing young people in Britain today. Your words resonated deeply — not just because of their truth, but because they come from someone who understands what it means to fall short in the most public way.

When you missed that penalty in the Euro ‘96 semi-final against Germany, you didn’t blame the ball, your boots, or the pitch. You took responsibility. That lesson in accountability is something British society desperately needs today. Too often, fingers are pointed at the symptoms — youth crime, mental health struggles, toxic influencers — without addressing the root cause.

You highlighted the immense pressure on young people to succeed. But this isn’t a youth problem — it’s a societal one. From Elon Musk to Lord Sugar, from the boardroom to the football pitch, success is measured in pounds and possessions. What message does it send to a young person when their parents work tirelessly yet can’t afford a family day out, while they watch footballers on TV earning £250,000 a week? A person’s worth is increasingly tied to their net worth. The pursuit of wealth has become the ultimate goal — and in this transactional, materialistic culture, something vital has been lost.

The struggles you spoke of — identity crises, isolation, toxic masculinity — haven’t emerged from nowhere. They stem from Britain’s unresolved questions. What does it mean to be British? Is it about race when Bukayo Saka, Marcus Rashford, and Jadon Sancho, three Black footballers, were racially abused for missing penalties? Is it about religion, when faith is mocked and insults are part of “Free Speech”  Is it about class, where the elite heat their stables while the elderly must choose between heating or eating? Or is it about Britain’s international stance, where moral principles are sacrificed for strategic interests — in Gaza, Iraq, Afghanistan? Young people are watching. Social media, for all its toxicity, also exposes these injustices in real time. When they see Britain’s leaders remain silent in the face of such suffering, is it any wonder they feel disillusioned about what it means to be British?

You said young men should move away from porn. Pornography isn’t just a problem for young men — it’s a multi-billion-pound industry that thrives on exploiting desire, feeding addiction, and reducing human intimacy to a transaction. The phrase “sex sells” isn’t just a slogan; it’s a reflection of a culture that’s commodified the most sacred human connections. This relentless pursuit of profit has eroded the social and moral fabric of society, distorting relationships, fuelling misogyny, and leaving a generation disconnected from what real love, respect, and intimacy truly mean.

You must have read that Keir Starmer supports tackling toxic misogyny and promoting positive role models for young men — even endorsing the series Adolescence to be shown in schools. But how can anyone expect real change when the highest institutions in the country are entrenched in the very same issues? Parliament has been rocked by countless scandals, from MPs facing accusations of sexual misconduct to female MPs exposing the “culture of misogyny” in Westminster. Racism remains deeply embedded too — the relentless abuse faced by Diane Abbott is a stark reminder. Class elitism is no better; nearly two-thirds of senior judges, top civil servants, and government officials come from private schools and Oxbridge, leaving working-class voices locked out of power.

This isn’t a new problem — it’s woven into Britain’s history, stretching back to medieval times, where feudal lords ruled over peasants, and race and class divisions were brutally enforced through empire. Today’s secular liberal order has inherited those inequalities, repackaging them in a more polished, modern form. The powerful still protect their own, while working-class and minority communities are left to fight a system designed to keep them in their place. How can young men find genuine role models in a system that rewards privilege and punishes authenticity?

In this sacred month of Ramadan, I invite you to reflect on how Islam offers a compelling alternative to the hollow, secular, materialism-consuming society.

Where society encourages hoarding wealth, Islam commands giving. Every Muslim must donate 2.5% of their wealth — not as charity, but as a duty to uplift the poor. Islam doesn’t measure worth by money but by character, kindness, and service to others.

Where Britain glorifies self-interest, Islam champions shared responsibility. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said, “The best of people are those that bring the most benefit to the rest of mankind.” A thriving society prioritises community over competition.

Where modern culture shifts blame and evades accountability, Islam demands self-accountability. Each soul answers for its own deeds. How often do we see politicians in Britain own up to mistakes, even when the consequences are glaring?

Perhaps most striking is the silent epidemic you mentioned — suicide. The UK has some of the highest suicide rates in Western Europe, especially among young men. They’re not dying from poverty but from hopelessness — crushed under material pressures and social comparison. Compare this to some of the poorest regions in Africa and Asia — places ravaged by famine, conflict, and disease — where suicide remains rare. Despite unbearable poverty, people still value life with resilience and hope. Why? Because they draw strength from faith, family, and community — values modern Britain doesn’t have.

Islam nurtures this strength. It teaches that life is a trust from God, that hardship purifies the soul, and that suffering carries meaning. The Qur’an reminds us, “Do not despair of the mercy of God” (39:53). When life isn’t reduced to money and status, people find purpose — even in pain.

I hope you can look beyond the media’s tired stereotypes of Islam — and beyond the narrative that frames Britain’s struggles as being rooted in immigration or the presence of Muslims. The values I’ve spoken about — faith, compassion, accountability, community, and purpose — are not foreign concepts.

I would love to extend a warm invitation for you to join me for lunch, away from the noise of cameras and social media, for an open, genuine, and heartfelt conversation. You’ve won the hearts of many through your leadership — and through our discussion, I hope to win your heart too, not with rhetoric, but with the substance of what’s been shared in this letter.

Yours sincerely, 
M Khan | ReRun Editor