Marking 20 Years Since the 7/7 London Bombings

7 JULY 2025

Today marks 20 years since the 7/7 London bombings, an act of terror that claimed 52 innocent lives and changed the course of countless others. I am one of the survivors. A last-minute change to my morning routine saved me from boarding the very carriage where 26 people were killed by a suicide bomber. That moment of fate not only spared my life, it reshaped it.

In the days and months that followed, I was overwhelmed by trauma, disbelief, and the weight of survival. But I made a conscious choice to turn my pain into purpose, to dedicate my life to tackling extremism and supporting those most vulnerable to radicalisation.

For almost two decades, I have worked tirelessly on the frontline across the UK: empowering women, educating young people, and engaging directly with marginalised communities to build resilience, trust, and understanding. Through the charity JAN Trust, I created Web Guardians™ in 2008, the world’s first online programme to help mothers safeguard their children and loved ones from online radicalisation. I’ve worked with families whose loved ones fled to Syria to join ISIS, and delivered thousands of workshops in schools and communities to counter the pull of extremist ideologies. In addition, I created a range of award-winning initiatives that empowered young people to recognise and prevent radicalisation within their own communities.

This work, over 15 years of it, has been one of the most emotional and demanding journeys of my life. There were many times I thought back to the corporate world I left behind, the 9 to 5, Monday to Friday routine, the financial security, the safety and how easy that life would have been in comparison. This work was never limited to office hours. It was relentless. I travelled across the UK delivering vital education and support, often working evenings and weekends missing out time with my family. I did not take maternity with any of my children. I was constantly on call, supporting mothers whose children were being radicalised, responding to community crises, and helping young people find their way back from the brink.

On top of frontline delivery, I carried the weight of running a charity. I managed our centre in North London, a critical safe space for women and families, many of whom were experiencing multiple layers of trauma from poverty to domestic abuse. I took responsibility for securing funding, leading operations, reporting to funders, monitoring and ensuring every woman who walked through our doors felt safe, heard, and empowered. This work took everything, emotionally, mentally and  physically. But I did it because I saw the change I was making.

I dedicated my life to preventing radicalisation from the ground up and I can tell you that the UK government's Prevent strategy is simply not working. It is not fit for purpose. It continues to be widely criticised for its lack of transparency, accountability, and its disproportionate focus on Muslims. Prevent operates in opaque ways, with no clear criteria, little oversight, and often without parental knowledge or consent. Rather than fostering trust, Prevent has instilled fear and suspicion, surveilling the very communities it claims to support. It has alienated those it should be engaging and, in some cases, done more harm than good.

I know this not just professionally, but personally. I was once part of Prevent’s efforts. But when I raised concerns about its failings, backed by years of frontline insight, I was shut out. When I had spoken publicly, I discovered through subject access requests that my social media posts and media appearances criticising Prevent had been circulated within central government and shared with local authority leads. Rather than engage with lived experience, the system chose to monitor it.

I encountered Prevent coordinators who were failing in their roles, uninterested in safeguarding communities or truly preventing extremism. Many were focused on bureaucratic box-ticking or maintaining political optics rather than meaningful impact. I directly challenged these Prevent coordinators. Instead of senior civil servants in the Home Office engaging in meaningful dialogue, I was summoned to a private room in the Home Office, told to lock away my phone and devices and warned to stay quiet and not to question the Prevent Coordinators. Rather than action or accountability, I was met with intimidation, defensiveness, and contempt.

And I was also later warned by a senior civil servant who said to me directly: “If you continue to speak publicly, the drawbridges will go up for JAN Trust.” In other words, if I didn’t stay silent, the funding would stop.

That’s exactly what happened. After I became openly critical of Prevent, the government withdrew its funding for JAN Trust, cutting support to a nationally recognised, award-winning charity delivering vital counter-extremism and community work. Without that funding, JAN Trust was forced to close in 2023. A vital service, built from the grassroots, was lost, not because it failed, but because it refused to fall in line and dared to hold power to account.

Meanwhile, Prevent remains preoccupied with ‘Islamist extremism’, while our society faces a much broader and evolving threat landscape. For years, I raised concerns about the rise of far-right extremism, I even warned ministers directly, but it fell on deaf ears. Far-right extremism has grown, as is violence inspired by misogynistic ‘Incel’ ideology. I know the impact of these threats all too well. Over the years, I have been subjected to far-right abuse, threats of arson and violence, and even attacks on my property, all because I am a visible Muslim woman speaking out against hate.

Extremism is not confined to one religion, race, or ideology. If our national strategies fail to reflect that reality, they fail to protect us all.

On this solemn anniversary, I remember the 52 lives lost.

My journey since 7/7 has been about transforming trauma into change. We owe it to the victims, the survivors, and future generations to build a society where no one feels so dehumanised or isolated that hate becomes their only path.

We need a new strategy, one that moves beyond surveillance and avoids the echo chamber and rewarding of voices selected simply for aligning with government rhetoric or for maintaining ties of loyalty to those including civil servants behind the Prevent programme.

Sajda Mughal OBE

7/7 Survivor | Counter-Extremism Expert |