I’ll begin with a confession: I’m not really a football fan. Give me a Test match at Headingley or an England cricket international and I’m perfectly happy. Cricket has always been my first sporting love.
But on Wednesday night, like millions of others across the country, I’ll be watching England take on Argentina in the World Cup semi-final with a sense of excitement, hope and national pride.
I’ll be willing every pass to find its target, every tackle to be won and every shot to find the back of the net. And before kick-off, I will do something that perhaps surprises some people.
I will pray for England to win.
Not because I have suddenly become a football fanatic, but because England is my home.
I know I won’t be alone.
Across Britain, millions of British Muslims will be doing exactly the same. From Bradford to Birmingham, Leicester to London, Muslim families will gather around television screens wearing England shirts, cheering every goal and sharing every moment of drama. In many mosques, before kick-off or after prayers, worshippers will quietly raise their hands in dua, asking Allah to grant England success.
For me, those prayers say something far more important than the result of a football match.
They are a reminder that this is our home.
As a British Muslim, I have sometimes grown tired of hearing the same old accusations. Muslims don’t support England. Muslims cheer for other countries. Muslims will never truly integrate. Muslims don’t share British values.
Yet every major tournament proves just how disconnected those stereotypes are from reality.
This World Cup has shown something that deserves far more attention than it receives. British Muslims have celebrated every England victory, from the group stages through to the dramatic knockout wins that have taken the Three Lions to within one match of the final. They have shared the same rollercoaster of emotions as every other supporter: the nerves before kick-off, the frustration of missed chances, the celebrations when England score and the relief when the final whistle blows.
I was delighted to see England overcome Norway to reach the semi-finals, and what happened afterwards made me smile. Young Muslims drove through the streets of Bradford waving England flags, sounding their horns and celebrating from their cars alongside everyone else. It wasn’t organised. It wasn’t staged. It was simply young people celebrating the success of the country they love.
That is the Bradford I know.
That is the Britain I know.
The overwhelming majority of British Muslims were born here or have spent most of their lives here. Our children know no other home. We attend British schools and universities, work in British businesses and public services, celebrate national achievements and share the same hopes for our country’s future. England’s future is our future because this country is our country.
That is why I find the image of Muslims making dua for England so moving.
In Islam, prayer is one of the sincerest expressions of hope and goodwill. We pray for our families, our neighbours, our communities and our country. We pray for those who are ill, for those facing hardship and for peace. Praying for England before one of the biggest football matches in our nation’s history feels entirely natural to me.
Patriotism does not always wave a flag or sing the loudest.
Sometimes it quietly raises its hands in prayer.
Sadly, those moments rarely make the headlines. Social media thrives on conflict and division, while ordinary acts of unity often pass unnoticed. A single inflammatory comment can spread across the internet within minutes, while thousands of Muslims praying for England remain unseen.
Yet the reality across Britain tells a different story.
Walk through Bradford, Leeds, Manchester or London during a major England match and you will see supporters from every background cheering together. Restaurants and cafés are full, England shirts are worn by people of every ethnicity and faith, and children celebrate side by side without caring where someone’s grandparents were born or what religion they follow.
Most people judge others not by the colour of their skin or the faith they practise, but by the content of their character and the contribution they make to society.
British Muslims contribute to this country every single day. We save lives in the NHS, educate our children as teachers, patrol our streets as police officers, serve in the Armed Forces, run businesses, volunteer in charities and help strengthen communities across Britain.
Supporting England is simply another expression of that sense of belonging.
As England prepare to face Argentina, millions of supporters from every background will once again unite behind the Three Lions. Among them will be Muslim families cheering every goal and, in many mosques, quietly making dua for England’s success.
Perhaps those unseen prayers tell us more about modern Britain than any political speech ever could.
They remind us that faith and patriotism are not opposites. I can stand shoulder to shoulder with fellow Muslims in a mosque, asking Allah to bless England, and later celebrate an England victory alongside neighbours of every faith and none.
There is no contradiction.
That is what being both British and Muslim looks like.
So, on Wednesday night, when England walk out in Atlanta to face Argentina, remember that millions of British Muslims will be hoping, cheering and praying for exactly the same result as everyone else.
Not because we have to.
But because England is our home too.
