How powerful are “staff associations”, the growing army of advocacy and special interest groups operating inside Britain’s public services? Specifically, are Muslim groups attempting to amplify extremist views inside police forces? A new report from the Policy Exchange think tank alleges that the National Association of Muslim Police published papers defending Hamas, labeled terms such as “Islamist” as Islamophobic, and platformed Muslim leaders who advocated for domestic abuse. What, then, is going on inside the police? Have diversity-obsessed police chiefs allowed a fifth column to develop inside the ranks? And, perhaps most sensitively of all, is this specifically a problem with Islam?

Police forces have long been criticized for a lack of inclusion. Ever since the 1999 Macpherson Inquiry, chief officers have striven to improve race relations both within communities and inside their forces. Doing so has become a key driver of promotion, and ambitious cops ignore the diversity agenda at their peril. Then, after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, the importance of building relationships inside Muslim communities became an urgent priority.

One way to do this was to show that the police were good employers for young Muslims. Initially, organizations such as the Met’s Muslim Police Association were straightforward staff support networks. I remember an inspector having problems with a Muslim PC who argued he should be excused from attending licensed premises serving alcohol. The inspector called the MPA for advice, which in turn called a no-nonsense imam. The imam contacted the PC, quoted a few choice hadiths and told him to “stop trying it on.” The problem was solved. To be fair, most Muslim officers I served with were as apolitical as anyone else. Yet sectarianism exists everywhere: a Shia colleague told me he’d never touch the MPA with a bargepole, as “it’s the Sunni Police Association”.

That was then. Slowly, but surely, advocacy groups began proliferating across the service. You name it, there’s a staff association for it — from dyslexics to pagans. Some of these groups have weaponized the Equality Act 2010 in a manner akin to activism, not workplace advocacy. Forces find themselves increasingly vulnerable to such politicking, as legislation and endless reviews into discrimination embolden those engaged in identity activism inside the police. Islam is a politically sensitive topic, and Muslim groups are well-connected and organized. Allegations of Islamophobia, likely to be bolstered by new Government guidelines, are never far from senior officers’ minds. There’s a wider political point here, too: Labour is the party of choice in many urban local authorities, which are often heavily reliant on Muslim bloc voting.

Faith issues have certainly been controversial as forces wrestle with managing a “diverse workforce”. As long ago as 2006, a Muslim firearms officer asked to be relieved from duty guarding the Israeli embassy in protest at the country’s bombing of Lebanon. In 2016, a female Muslim sergeant quit the Met’s Muslim Contact Unit, part of the counter-terrorism command, after complaining of extremism and sexism. She claimed that “racism in the Met is not from white officers in my case, but from Muslim officers who the service refused to properly investigate because they were afraid of being called Islamophobic and racist.”

Perhaps the most obvious example, though, of undue religious and political influence over policing was the West Midlands Police scandal, in which bogus intelligence was used to justify banning Israeli fans from a Maccabi Tel Aviv football match against Aston Villa last year. The involvement of local Muslim councillors and police liaison officers, linked to staff associations, may have influenced decisions made by then-Chief Constable Craig Guildford. This is possibly the most concerning element of how staff associations have evolved from workplace advocates to Grima Wormtongue-like advisers, whispering in their bosses’ ears. Having worked in policing, I’d instruct politicians and mandarins wondering who to blame to take a long, hard look in the mirror.