by NIKESH MEHTA OBE, FOUZIA YOUNIS and MUNA SHAMSUDDIN
ON A cold autumn afternoon last month, nearly 200 British civil servants and diplomats packed into the Locarno Room at the Foreign and Commonwealth Office to mark a historic moment.
For the first time in such detail, the history of black, Asian, and minority ethnic (BAME) staff in the Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO) – our history – was published and discussed.
The note, Black Skin, Whitehall: Race and the Foreign Office, 1945 to 2018, written by FCO historian James Southern tells the story of BAME officers in the context of decades of debate in the UK on the legacy of the Empire, immigration and integration of minority communities. It was an emotional moment for us all.
The historical parts of the note make for deeply uncomfortable reading. In the early 1950s, successive Civil Service commissioners argued that “a person of un-English appearance or speech might be unsuitable for a situation in which he would act as a representative of the United Kingdom to foreigners”. In the mid-1960s, three high-performing civil servants from a BAME background were denied entry into the Diplomatic Service because they weren’t trusted to be loyal to the country. Seventy years ago, we suspect that the only way people like our grandparents or great grandparents would have been allowed into the Foreign Office would have been to serve tea to British diplomats.
We have come a long way since then – the FCO is now more diverse than it has ever been with more BAME ambassadors and one of the highest rates of BAME graduate new entrants across Whitehall. We can reflect on the progress led by pioneers like Noel Jones, who would go on to become Britain’s first ever BAME ambassador when he was posted to Kazakhstan in 1993; and Robin Chatterjie, who was the first BAME entrant into the diplomatic service fast stream (graduate entry). There were also enlightened politicians and civil servants who were prepared to challenge convention.
And of course, it is also down to the extraordinary resilience shown by our parents’ generation settling in the UK as Commonwealth citizens in the 1960s and 1970s and the changes they helped to introduce in wider British society. Overcoming significant hurdles including significant racism, they worked all hours, often for little money, to ensure that their children and grandchildren had the best access to opportunities.
Yet, as the note concludes, we have a long way to go. The new BAME entrants appear to be predominantly from a south Asian background. We are still struggling to attract black candidates. Too many of our BAME staff are stuck in the most junior grades. And even when you think you have finally made it, there are still people who think you have only got to where you are because of the colour of your skin.
This has to change. It matters to us that we act as agents of this change. When the three of us joined the FCO in the 2000s, we felt like fish out of water. Our extended families wondered whether it was even allowed for non-white, second-generation immigrants to be British diplomats. And in the FCO, we were acutely aware of being watched by the granite statues of former diplomats who had governed our forefathers in the colonies.
It is true that each of us has experienced some form of racial discrimination in our careers, whether that’s being refused entry into an event (because they had assumed we were drivers), being stopped more frequently at airports or military checkpoints, or simply being ignored in favour of white colleagues.
However, our diversity has enabled us to develop deep relationships and build influential networks, often challenging and breaking down tired stereotypes of the quintessential British diplomat. Since we joined, we have had incredibly rewarding careers which have given us unique experiences. We feel proud and privileged to work for the FCO, to represent the UK overseas, and to play a role in keeping the UK safe, secure and prosperous. Sir Simon McDonald, the FCO’s permanent under-secretary recently said that it was “essential we make further progress to ensure our modern diplomatic service reflects the best of the diversity of the UK”. We couldn’t agree more.
Our country needs to attract the best talent from all backgrounds in society to fulfil this responsibility. This also means that we embrace and ensure that we make the most of our uniqueness and our heritage links – to be who we are.
Diversity is a huge strength for our country. Two of us come from the West Midlands, not all of us went to Oxbridge, our heritage links span three continents, we went to state and non-state schools, and speak several languages. From Baghdad to Dhaka to Kuala Lumpur, we have taken our diversity with us wherever we have been posted. For those reading this article, we would encourage you to read the history note. And if you feel, like us, that you could be a part of a bold and diverse diplomatic service, look at potential careers in the FCO and help us make history, like our parents and grandparents who didn’t accept the status quo.
We owe this to our current and future generations of British diplomats, and to the country that we represent. We hope that a future version of this note will say that the FCO recruits the very best from society irrespective of background, and that the diplomatic service at all levels now reflects modern Britain. This is not just because it’s morally right to have a diverse diplomatic service, but because our diplomacy needs it.
(NIKESH MEHTA OBE is the Deputy British ambassador to the Republic of Korea; FOUZIA YOUNIS is the Head of strategic communication, Gulf Strategy, and co-chair of the FCO’s BAME Network and MUNA SHAMSUDDIN is the Project consultant, Projects Task Force, and co-chair of the FCO’s BAME Network)
US president Donald Trump gestures next to Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu at Ben Gurion International Airport as Trump leaves Israel en route to Sharm El-Sheikh, Egypt, to attend a world leaders' summit on ending the Gaza war, amid a US-brokered prisoner-hostage swap and ceasefire deal between Israel and Hamas, in Lod, Israel, October 13, 2025.
‘They make a desert and call it peace’, wrote the Roman historian Tacitus. That was an early exercise, back in AD 96, of trying to walk in somebody else’s shoes. The historian was himself the son-in-law of the Roman Governor of Britain, yet he here imagined the rousing speech of a Caledonian chieftain to give voice to the opposition to that imperial conquest.
Nearly two thousand years later, US president Donald Trump this week headed to Sharm-El-Sheikh in the desert, to join the Egyptian, Turkish and Qatari mediators of the Gaza ceasefire. Twenty more world leaders, including prime minister Sir Keir Starmer and president Emmanuel Macron of France turned up too to witness this ceremonial declaration of peace in Gaza.
This ceasefire brings relief after two years of devastating pain. Tens of thousands of civilians have been killed. More of the Israeli hostages taken by Hamas are returning dead than alive. Eighty-five per cent of Gaza is rubble. Each of the twenty steps of the proposed peace plan may prove rocky. The state of Palestine has more recognition - in principle - than ever before across the international community, but it may be a long road to that taking practical form. Israel continues to oppose a Palestinian state.
The ceasefire will be welcomed in Britain for humanitarian relief and rekindling hopes of a path to a political settlement. It offers an opportunity to take stock on the fissures of the last two years on community relations here in Britain too. That was the theme of a powerful cross-faith conversation last week, convened by the Board of Deputies of British Jews, to reciprocate the expressions of solidarity received from Muslims, Christians and others after the Manchester synagogue attacks, and challenge the arson attack on a Sussex mosque.
Jewish and Muslim civic voices had convened an ‘optimistic alliance’ to keep conversations going when there seemed ever less to be optimistic about. The emerging news from Gaza was seen as a hopeful basis to deepen conversation in Britain about how tackling the causes of both antisemitism and anti-Muslim prejudice could form part of a shared commitment to cohesion.
This conflict has not seen a Brexit-style polarisation down the middle of British society. Most people’s first instinct was to avoid choosing a side in this conflict. The murderous Hamas attack on Jews on October 7, 2023 and the excesses of the Israeli assault on Gaza piled tragedy upon tragedy. The instinct to not take sides can be an expression of mutual empathy, but is not always so noble. It can reflect confusion and exhaustion with this seemingly intractable conflict. A tendency to look away and change the subject can frustrate those whose family heritage, faith solidarity or commitments to Zionism and Palestine as political ideas make them feel more closely connected.
Others have felt this conflict thrust upon them in an unwelcome way - including British Jews fed up with the antisemitic idea that they can be held responsible at school, university or work for what the government of Israel is doing. Protesters for Palestine perceive double standards in arguments about free speech - as do those with contrasting views. The proper boundaries between legitimate political protest and prejudice are sharply contested.
Hamit Coksun is an asylum seeker who speaks somewhat broken English. He would seem an unusual ally for Robert Jenrick. Yet the shadow justice secretary went to court to offer solidarity, after Coskun had burned a Qu’ran outside the Turkish Embassy, while shouting “F__ Islam” and “Islam is the religion of terrorism”. He had been fined £250, but the appeal court overturned his conviction. The judgment was context-specific: this specific incendiary protest took place outside an embassy, not a place of worship, in an empty street, and did not direct the comments at anybody in particular.
The law does not protect faiths from criticism, and indeed offers some protection for intolerant and prejudiced political speech too, though the police can place conditions on protest to protect people from abuse, intimidation or harassment on the basis of their faith.
So it can be legal to performatively burn books - holy or otherwise - though this verdict makes clear it does not offer a green light to do so in every context.
But how far should we celebrate those who choose to burn books? Cosun advocates banning the Qu’ran, making him a flawed champion of free speech. Jenrick is legitimately concerned to show that there are no laws against blasphemy in Britain, but could anybody imagine that he would turn up in person to show solidarity to a man burning the Bible, Bhagvad Gita or Torah, shouting profanities to declaring religion of war or genocide? The court’s defence of the right to shock, offend and provoke is correct in law. Those are hardly the only conversations that a shared society needs.
Sunder Katwalawww.easterneye.biz
Sunder Katwala is the director of thinktank British Future and the author of the book How to Be a Patriot: The must-read book on British national identity and immigration.
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