I Was Born Here: A Tapestry of Truth in the Face of Xenophobia

Art as Resistance

When I first stepped into the V&A East Storehouse, the first thing that struck me was not the ornate Spanish ceiling but the overwhelming presence of Shahed Saleem's tapestries. They were there, demanding attention with their bold colors and unflinching depictions of Britain's Muslim experience. This isn't just an art show — it's a historical reckoning, a visual protest against centuries of erasure.

"I was born here," Saleem says, not as a statement of privilege, but as a defensive assertion of belonging. And in the current climate of hostility, it's a powerful, necessary one.

The artist, a trained architect and academic, spent hundreds of hours crafting three massive tapestries that span the walls of this historic space. Each one is more than a piece of art — it's an artifact, a historical marker, a testament to how deeply Muslim life has shaped Britain's identity.

Reclaiming History Through Fabric

Saleem's work is rooted in the uncomfortable truths that many in the West prefer to ignore. The first tapestry, Home Office, is a devastating recreation of signs from the UK government's 2013 “Hostile Environment” policy — a policy that criminalized undocumented immigrants and encouraged their deportation.

• "106 ARRESTS LAST WEEK IN YOUR AREA"
• "In the UK Illegally?"
• "GO HOME OR FACE ARREST"

These aren't just words on paper — they are woven into fabric, embedded in the very structure of the tapestry. The Islamic geometric patterns of Alhambra provide a counterpoint to this hostility, symbolizing not only the beauty and complexity of Muslim culture but also its deep roots in Europe.

The second tapestry, Altab Ali's Portrait, honors the life of a young Bangladeshi man murdered in 1978. Altab Ali was a textile worker whose death at the hands of racist violence marked a pivotal moment in Britain's race relations. Saleem places his image not only as tribute but as a reminder that such violence is not a relic of the past — it is still being enacted today.

And then there's the third, perhaps most haunting: a tapestry showing the voyage of the Santa Maria, Christopher Columbus's ship. This isn't just historical context — it's an allusion to the beginning of colonialism and religious persecution that would eventually marginalize Muslim communities across Europe. Saleem uses this symbolism to trace the line from Spain's Inquisition to the current climate of Islamophobia in Britain.

Art and Activism

This is not a passive exhibition — it's a provocation. Saleem's goal isn't merely to decorate a gallery but to force viewers into confrontation with the reality that many prefer to avoid. As historian Tharik Hussain notes, while Europe often celebrates the artistic achievements of Islamic civilization, it has too often ignored or suppressed its people.

"Christian Europe" has admired and at times preserved and celebrated the artistic achievements of Europe's Islamic civilisation, but too often has marginalised, excluded and persecuted Muslim communities.

The irony is not lost on those who visit the exhibition. One visitor, Hana, said it was striking to see the beautiful Spanish ceiling — a symbol of Islamic art and history — displayed alongside the tapestries that expose the very hostility that seeks to erase Muslim presence in Europe.

For Saleem, this juxtaposition is intentional. It reflects the contradiction at the heart of European identity: how it can simultaneously celebrate and denigrate the contributions of those who have shaped its culture.

The Weight of Belonging

As someone who has spent years in academia, art, and activism, Saleem understands that language is power. The phrase "I was born here" — often demanded of Muslim individuals as a way to justify their existence — becomes a powerful statement when reversed into a question of ownership and belonging.

"It's part [of] a parody of having to continuously claim one's space in the palace where you actually belong," Saleem explained.

This is not just about personal identity — it's about systemic injustice. Saleem's work forces us to ask: if someone has lived here, worked here, built families here, how can they be considered foreign? How can their history be dismissed?

The exhibit's location in the V&A East Storehouse — a space that celebrates the local community and culture — only adds to its impact. Saleem was commissioned by the museum not just to create art but to tell stories that are often overlooked or silenced.

From Market to Movement

One of the most powerful sections of the exhibition is dedicated to Queen's Market in Newham, where Muslim families have shopped for generations. It's a space that symbolizes resilience — not only against corporate development but also against political and social pressures.

The market is more than just a commercial space; it's a symbol of cultural continuity. Saleem's tapestry shows the bustling life of its vendors, the laughter of children, and the strength of a community under siege.

"These are the people who are being very largely impacted by legislation and timing that we're seeing," Saleem said. "But they also represent a multicultural Britain and a process of arriving, settling, creativity, labour and life, really."

His work is not only about remembering the past but about recognizing the ongoing struggle for visibility and acceptance. These are not just stories to be looked at — they are realities to be acknowledged.

A Historical Marker

What makes this exhibition particularly urgent is that Saleem sees it as a historical marker. In his words, "We're in a historical moment at this point in time so the work acts as a marker of that moment."

The rise of anti-immigrant sentiment, the resurgence of far-right politics, and the normalization of Islamophobia are not anomalies — they are part of a larger historical narrative. Saleem's tapestries serve as documentation of how this narrative is being written today.

For young viewers like Imran Haque, Saleem's work speaks to their lived experiences. Haque, who grew up in London, said that the exhibit helped him see his family's story reflected in the art — a story that many in the wider society would rather forget or ignore.

"Muslims are not a strange or foreign concept," he said. "The religion has been known on these shores from the 16th century, and the pieces serve as a reminder that faith has no borders."

The emotional resonance of this exhibition is what makes it so compelling. It isn't just about facts or politics — it's about humanity.

Conclusion: Art as a Mirror to Society

Shahed Saleem's I Was Born Here is more than an art exhibit — it is a clarion call for truth, justice, and inclusion. In a world where xenophobia is on the rise, and Muslim identities are increasingly framed as threats, Saleem's tapestries offer a powerful counter-narrative.

They demand that we look beyond surface-level diversity to acknowledge the deep roots of Muslim presence in Europe. They challenge us to question the policies and prejudices that attempt to erase that presence. And they invite us to take responsibility for the kind of society we want to leave behind.

In a time when the art world often focuses on aesthetics alone, Saleem's work reminds us that the most powerful art is that which dares to confront injustice — even when it hurts.