DOCTOR ILLEGALLY CIRCUMCISED DOZENS OF BOYS

This article appears in today's Leicester Mercury:

Doctor illegally circumcised dozens of boys

by David W Owen

A doctor has been ordered to pay more than £32,000 after admitting illegally circumcising dozens of young boys.

Dr Hassan Abdulla carried out the operations while working at the private Al-Khalill Clinic in Conway Road, Evington, Leicester, between October 2011 and January last year.

Leicester Magistrates’ Court heard that although he was qualified to perform the procedures, he did so without being registered with the Care Quality Commission (CQC), which is required by law.

Dr Abdulla (62), of Scothern Lane, Sudbrook, Lincoln, pleaded guilty to five offences involving operations on individual boys when he appeared at court on Monday.

He also admitted to a charge relating to illegal surgery performed on a further 36 children.

He was fined £2,700 and ordered to pay over £30,000 in costs.

Carl May-Smith, prosecuting, told the court that healthcare services are required to be registered with the CQC so they can be “subject to regulation”.

He added it was important that people know whether such services “meet national standards of quality and safety”.

“Mr Abdullah should have known he needed to register, being a qualified health care professional with a duty to follow up on these matters,” he said.

Mr May-Smith said the CQC was alerted to Dr Abdulla’s illegal practice by members of the local community and the University Hospitals of Leicester NHS Trust.

In bringing the prosecution, the independent health regulator carried out two visits to Dr Abdulla’s Evington practice.

Mr May-Smith said that what was found would not have met the national standards of quality and safety.

“Infection control practices were inadequate, equipment being used was out of date and staff were not appropriately trained,” he said, adding that five of the children Dr Abdulla carried out the procedure on suffered complications and required further medical treatment.

The court heard that Dr Abdulla had provided circumcisions for children, mainly of parents adhering to the Islamic and Jewish faiths, since the NHS halted offering non-therapeutic surgery back in 2005.

He had not been required to register with the previous health regulator, the Health Commission, before it was replaced by the CQCin 2009.

Russell Davies, in mitigation, said Dr Abdulla had sought to register with the CQC in September 2011 but had been unaware that his initial application had been rejected.

He pleaded guilty to the six charges on the basis that he should have known he could not provide the service without being registered with CQC.

The court heard, however, that the CQC wrote to Dr Abdulla when his application was refused and spoke to him by telephone.

Mr Davies added: “With Dr Abdulla’s behaviour, the objective was not commercial gain.

“He is not only a man of good character but someone with a hitherto unblemished record.”

Dr Abdulla was fined £450 for each of the charges and ordered to pay £30,099.80 court costs and a £15 victim surcharge.

Sentencing him, District Judge Timothy Daber said: “Without registration, the CQC had no power to regulate your practice, thereby putting patients at risk.”

Following the hearing, Fiona Allinson, compliance manager for the CQC, said: “This sends a clear message to any healthcare professionals that they not only need to ensure they are registered with CQC but we will take action against those who fail to do so.

“By not being registered, providers of care put people at risk as it is not possible for CQC to assess the quality of service being offered.”

FAITHS UNITED AFTER ACTROCITY

This is (part of) the front page of today's Leicester Mercury. I don't usually comment on articles or readers' letters in the Mercury, but I'm making an exception this time.

Well, this is the kind of headline I like to see, as I'm sure you can imagine, faithful reader. But the title of this short but prominent piece is hyperbolic - as is the first sentence, "People of different faiths stood shoulder to shoulder [...]" When you turn to the full article, it only refers to two faiths: Christianity and Islam. Even then, it's actually the Church of England and Islam. Only Sheikh Ibrahim Moghra, Suleman Nagdi and the Bishop of Leicester are quoted. Three important voices, who should be heard prominently in the city and beyond - but this is hardly comprehensive coverage of a matter that is of major interest and importance to everyone in Leicester who cares about the increasingly polarised debate on the influence of religion or belief on community relations. These three voices have no trouble being heard, because of their well-earned and richly deserved prominence in their respective communities and the place of their religions in the firmament of faiths. I certainly respect their opinions and want to know what they have to say and believe that the rest of the city should hear them too. But does the Mercury really think that the city's Bahá'ís, Buddhists, other kinds of Christians, Jains, Jews, Sikhs - and, for that matter, Secular Humanists - have nothing calming, illuminating or insightful to say about this?

Leicester Council of Faiths issued a brief statement to the Leicester Mercury (amongst other recipients) yesterday morning, but the paper has not used it, referred to it or contacted anyone involved with the Council of Faiths to contribute to any of its coverage of local responses to the incident in Woolwich. Considering our role in the public life of Leicester and our standing in the city, I think that's a pity.

FEDERATION OF MUSLIM ORGANISATIONS RADIO SHOW ON EAVA FM

This morning I'm presenting the Interfaith Hour on Ramadan Radio, going out live on 102.5 FM and online at www.eava.com between 1000 and 1100. This is part of the schedule of programmes run by the Federation of Muslim Organisations during the Muslim month of fasting.

The hours in which FMO broadcast during Ramadan are donated by EAVA FM  Multilingual Radio. EAVA FM broadcasts in a variety of community languages including Arabic, Mandarin Chinese, Gujarati, Hindi, Ndebele, Punjabi, Shona, Somali and Urdu. English content is definitely a minority interest for the station and its listeners. I've been on EAVA FM once before, in April 2009, when I was a guest on the Andy Cooke Show (which I blogged here). The station is located in the Leicester Business Centre on Ross Walk, which runs parallel to Melton Road. The front of the Leicester Business Centre has been demolished and rebuilt since then, so I spend several minutes going back and forth on Ross Walk, looking for something that isn't there any more. By the time I give up and phone the studio for directions, it turns out I'm so close, someone in the Leicester Business Centre could have leant out of a window and waved me in! Some of the Radio Ramadan programmes are broadcast from the offices of the FMO in Highfields. I was originally told to ge ther, but the equipment at their offices isn't quite good enough to do programmes with a lot of speech content, so the venue was switched to permit a better quality broadcast.

I'm in the studio half an hour before the start of the show, which gives me time to chat with Dee, (Manager at EAVA FM), Ashokhbhai (who is presenting a Hindi programme which finishes just before 1000) and Ismael Bin-Sulaiman (AKA Izzy), producer of the Interfaith Hour. Dee dangles before me the possibility of the Council of Faiths having a weekly hour-long show on the station (dependent on us obtaining sponsorship for it). That's something worth following up. During this conversation, I learn that typical listening figures for the FMO's Ramadan broadcasts are around the 300,000 mark. Most of those listeners access the show online, through the FMO website. The largest concentration of listeners is in  Chicago. Who'd have guessed?

Luman Ali at the the FMO invited me to do this programme a couple of weeks ago. I've been given carte blanche to fill the hour with my choice of content (within reason), so I've put together a programme about how the other seven communities represented on Leicester Council of Faiths approach fasting. I've recorded five short interviews with a Buddhist, a Christian, a Hindu, a Jew and a Sikh, each one of them responding to my questions about how they think about and practise fasting. Following a belt-and-braces approach, I've brought those recordings to the studio in a variety of formats: one CD with the interviews saved as MP3 files; another CD with the interviews saved as data files; a memory stick with MP3 files; my laptop with MP3 and data files; even the handheld digital recorder that I used for the original interviews. I'm not taking any chances! Thankfully, the first of these formats works without any problems.

Each of the interviewees has something interesting and distinctive to say about their religious beliefs and practices on this topic, as well as their personal experience. I invited a Jain friend to contribute too but we couldn't arrange a recording session in the time we had available. Not for the first time, I present the Jain perspective (reading a brief extract from a published source), as well as speaking briefly on my own behalf as a Bahá'í. The recorded interviews are linked by a brief chat between me and Izzy, whom I prompt for a Muslim's response to some of the points raised in the recordings. I think it goes alright, though it's a little rushed toward the end. I fit in everything that I'd wanted to get in, which is good. And thanks to Suleman Nagdi, who sent an SMS to the station, wishing me luck, from a train en route to Manchester.

As I'm leaving the studio, two chaps are setting up for the next programme, which I'm told is a "requests show". What that means in this case is that listeners send in their requests (by email or SMS) for one of the presenters to chant verses from the Qur’án, Hadith or another Islamic source, to heighten the devotional experience during Ramadan. This is one of those moments where I'm grateful for the work I do, and how permits me insights into ways of living that would otherwise not be visible to me.

VIGIL FOR VICTIMS OF WISCONSIN GURDWARA SHOOTINGS

This evening, in Town Hall Square, Leicester Council of Faiths hosts a vigil for the victims and survivors of the shooting at the Gurdwara in Oak Creek Wisconsin, which took place a week ago today. This has been arranged at short notice, without a lot of publicity, but a speedy response seems to have been the most important consideration.

Certainly, word of mouth attracts a decent turnout. At the height of the meeting, which lasts for just over an hour, there are at least 250 people gathered here. The majority are Sikhs, of course, drawn from the seven gurdwaras in Leicester. But there are also many friends, supporters and well-wishers from other faith communities in Leicester as well as observers and sympathisers from no particular belief or tradition. As well as Cllr Manjula Sood, Assistant Mayor and Chair of Leicester Council of Faiths, two other Assistant Mayors are here (Cllr Vi Dempster and Cllr Sarah Russell) and at least two other city councillors.

Representatives of Leicester's Bahá'í, Christian, Hindu, Jewish and Muslim communities spoke at the front of the gathering on the Town Hall steps, where a table was set up with commemorative candles. Jon Ashworth MP (Leicester South) spoke there too. There's no amplification so whatever they say is inaudible from even a few rows back. It's remarkable how loud the fountain in Town Hall Square can be, especially if you're trying to be quiet. But the fact that the speeches and prayers go largely unheard doesn't seem to matter to the crowd. There's a strong atmosphere of mutuality and solidarity, no posturing or rabble rousing. It's all very dignified, friendly and reflective.

I stay at the back, occasionally tweeting and being retweeted by others (e.g. @KaursCorner, @Masjidumar_Leic, @navrupkaur). I take the opportunity at the end to record a quick interview with a young Sikh chap for inclusion in my inter-faith programme on FMO Radio tomorrow morning, which is about how faith communities in Leicester, apart from Muslims, fast. Sikhs don't fast for spiritual purposes, like virtually all other faiths do in some way. Rather than just leave them out of the programme for that reason, I want to include a Sikh talking about why they don't fast. I strike gold with this fellow, who states clearly the reasons why fasting is not part of Sikh belief and practice, but why he himself fasts for reasons of health and fitness. That will make a good end to the programme tomorrow.

Pukaar News has turned out to cover the event: a three-minute video report is on their website. Ambrose Musiyiwa records a number of video interviews and posts these on Civic Leicester's YouTube channel, including interviews with Jon Ashworth MP, Cllr Manjula Sood, Surinderpal Singh Rai (Chair of Guru Tegh Bahadur Gurdwara) and me.

LEICESTER MERCURY OFFERS FAITH SYMBOLS FOR FAMILY NOTICES

I don't know if this is a new service the Leicester Mercury is providing, but today is the first time it's come to my attention. The notice says that the paper now has a selection of faith symbols for readers' family notices. Symbols for each of the member communities on Leicester Council of Faiths are shown (top row, left to right: Hindu, Sikh, Christian; middle row, left to right: Muslim, Jewish, Jain; bottom row, left to right: Buddhist, Shinto,  Bahá'í). I don't know how many followers or practitioners of Shinto (the indigenous spirituality of the people of Japan) there are in Leicester and Leicestershire: probably more than the number of Bahá'ís, I imagine. However, if I were to choose just a ninth symbol appropriate for the city and county, I don't think Shinto would have been my first choice. I should mention that it's good to see this service being offered - but no one from the Leicester Mercury consulted, contacted or informed the Council of Faiths about it (just in case you might have been wondering, faithful reader).

SECULAR BELIEF MASKS A STEELY INTOLERANCE

This letter appears in today's Leicester Mercury:

Secular belief masks a steely intolerance

I am sure I am not the only person who found the letter from Michael Gerard, president of Leicester Secular Society, with its anti-Catholic diatribe, particularly offensive ("Speech stirs up hatred of secularists, Mailbox, June 7).

It shows, as we have seen many times before, that beneath a facade of tolerance, there lurks a steely intolerance of any religious belief far exceeding that shown to secularists by people of faith.

I was not fortunate enough to be present when Cardinal Cormac Murphy O'Connor gave his recent speech in Leicester, but if he stated that "secular values" are permeating insidiously every aspect of western life, he was absolutely correct.

The letter quotes him as stating that "no-one should be forced to live according to the new secular religion as if it alone were definitive and obligatory for all mankind".

We see evidence of this around us when we read of intolerance of people wearing crosses to work, or councils stating that there should be no prayers before meetings.

Michael criticises Franco in Spain, no doubt with some justification, but his regime also had merits. Remember that Christians are not perfect, and are in need of salvation.

It is simply not true to say that the Catholic Church connived with the Nazis regarding Jewish slaughter. Pope Pius XII did much behind the scenes to protect Jews, although some of it was not visible at the time for obvious reasons.

The so-called intransigent attitude of the Church to birth control and abortion are not there to annoy people: they are simply stating God's moral law.

The former denies the act of creation its natural outcome, the latter is murder, pure and simple.

Michael, please do not talk about stirring up hatred against secularists, (which nobody sensible wants to see) for that is exactly what you are trying to do against Christians.

Mark W Jacques OP, Quorn

NEW STATESMAN: WHO SPEAKS FOR BRITISH JEWS?

This week's issue is a special on the British Jewish experience, with a signature essay by David Cesarani. Also in the issue:

• Ed Miliband on his family's refugee history
• Linda Grant on the Jewish novel
• David Baddiel on identity
• Michael Rosen on his communist childhood
• Will Self on other people's obsession with his Jewishness
• Anthony Julius and David J Goldberg debate anti-Semitism
• Jemima Khan interviews Anne Frank's step-sister, Eva Schloss
• Rachel Shabi and Mehdi Hasan on Muslim-Jewish understanding
• Daniel Trilling on Britain's last anti-Jewish riots
• Rabbi Laura Janner-Klausner on Judaism and women's rights
• Bella Freud interviewed
• A short story by Naomi Alderman

All this, plus columns from Nina Caplan, Felicity Cloake, Anthony Clavane, Will Self, Rachel Lichtenstein and Jon Benjamin, chief executive of the Board of Deputies of British Jews.

MUSLIMS ARE NOT OFFENDED BY CELEBRATIONS OF OTHER RELIGIONS

This article, first published in 2006, has been doing the rounds recently, mainly in the Twitterverse. It was written by Shaykh Ibrahim Mogra (in photo above), Chairman of the Muslim Council of Britain's Inter Faith Relations Committee. Regular readers of this blog and those who know me personally or professionally will know that my admiration and respect for Shaykh Ibrahim Mogra know no bounds. He is one of the leading lights of inter faith work in this country and farther afield. There can be few people dedicated to fostering good inter faith relations in the UK who have not shared a platform, a microphone or a cup of tea with him. He was a regular and reliable source of advice and guidance to me when I was writing the introductory leaflets on Muslims in my early days working for Leicester Council of Faiths. He is based at Masjid Umar in Evington Road and was a member of our Council of Faiths for several years,but had to resign recently to dedicate his time and effort more to the national (and international) scene. Our paths don't cross often enough these days for my liking and I'm glad to put my blog to good use by giving him a platform for his compassionate, good-humoured, rational and tolerant views. This article has been lifted from the Muslim Council of Britain website. 

Muslims are not offended by celebrations of other religions 

Muslims regard Judaism and Christianity as divine religions. Islam is a continuation and an extension of those great religions. In order to qualify as a Muslim, one has to believe in Moses (Musa) and Jesus (Isa) along with all the Biblical prophets, peace be upon them. Muslims have to believe in the Torah (Tawrat), the Psalms (Zabur) and the Gospel (Injil) although Muslim scholars do have some issues about the accuracy of a few parts of these scriptures. And although Islam declares that it is the way of life chosen by God for humanity and that Muhammad, peace be upon him, is the final messenger of God, and that the Qur'an is the final message, the Qur'an affectionately refers to the followers of these previous scriptures as the People of the Book.

Muslims see these religious communities as cousins not only in faith but in ancestry also, through Abraham, that great pillar of monotheism. Islam encourages invitation (da`wah) to Islam though wisdom and good speech and through constructive and dignified dialogue. Muslims are not allowed to use force or coercion in order to convert others. Islam calls on Muslims to respect all human beings and all religions as they are. Muslims are not allowed to force Islam and its practices upon others in society. They are encouraged to set a good example, show alternatives to lifestyles and to be good role models and to refrain from and to declare their condemnation of all evil in society without inciting hatred for the perpetrators. 

So we Muslims are baffled when we read and hear that Christmas is being `banned' and replaced with something else because the organisers do not want to offend Muslims. Where do they get this idea from? Who told them that? Such actions lead to comments like, `It's those Muslims again. They always have a problem with everything we do. Why don't they just leave and go back to their own country?' A majority of British Muslims were born here. Where do we want them to go? Local authorities, organisations and businesses trying to avoid offending Muslims and trying to be politically correct actually cause more harm to cohesion and understanding. There is a need to stem the tide of such ill-thought-out decisions where ruling bodies try to 'second guess' the attitudes of the communities and seek to defuse conflicts before they have even been felt or arisen. To suggest that calling Christmas with its proper name and that Christmas decorations would offend Muslims is absurd. Why should Christmas not be celebrated openly and wholeheartedly in our country when a vast majority of people identify themselves as Christians. This country owes a lot to Christianity. Its moral values and ethical codes have been moulded by Christian teachings for centuries. In fact the whole planet has benefited from Christian teachings and continues to do so. Muslims would adopt all those values and moral codes without question or hesitation. Even if the Christian communities in our country were a minority, we would want Christmas to be celebrated because ours is a multi faith, multi cultural, pluralist and democratic country.

We have been calling on Christian friends for a long time now to reclaim Christmas from the commercialisation of it. We have been encouraging them to bring back the religious and spiritual richness of Christmas. Last year, a delegation of Christians and Muslims were in Brussels for a conference. For dinner we went to a restaurant in the centre of the city. I was thrilled to see that the nativity scene was re-enacted with life size figurines of the Virgin Mary and baby Jesus, the wise men, stables, straw and even live sheep! Why have I not seen this in Britain? It would be wonderful to show my children what the very special Jesus means to Christians and to discuss with them what he means to us and to learn the different beliefs we all hold. Merry Christmas to all Christians and whoever else chooses to celebrate it. 

By Shaykh Ibrahim Mogra, Chairman, Inter Faith Relations Committee, Muslim Council of Britain

HOW OUR GOOD DEEDS BECOME A UNIFYING FORCE

Here's Riaz Ravat's First Person column from today's Leicester Mercury:

How our good deeds become a unifying force 

Riaz Ravat looks ahead to Mitzvah Day, a charity event which brings different faiths together 

In a few days' time, the Jewish community of Leicestershire will once again team up with St Philip's Centre and other faiths to mark Mitzvah Day, or as some call it, "good deed" day. The event coincides with the start of national Inter-Faith Week which this year marks its third anniversary. 

Last year's Mitzvah Day took all of us organisers by surprise. Barely a day after the national Children in Need appeal, the people of Leicestershire continued their unstinting generosity by donating toiletries to our cause. Our campaign was to help people who have escaped domestic violence and who were forced to live in safe houses as a result. Mitzvah Day is an expression of how a small community, the Jewish community, makes a big difference to those on the frontline of societal ills. 

Enshrined in the teachings of so many faiths, social action has become more pressing, particularly in light of the tough economic climate we are all living in. While dialogue creates the opening for good community relations, action helps to solidify it. We in Leicester have pioneered a new way of expressing commitment to each of our respective faiths while sharing a platform of co-operation with others. 

In September, Sewa Day or "service" day, which is rooted in Buddhist, Hindu, Jain and Sikh faiths, provided an opportunity for these faiths to work alongside Christians, Jews and Muslims to deliver a teatime treat for elderly folk from the West Indian Senior Citizens Project. Likewise Mitzvah Day with its Jewish origins will open the doors for other faiths to come on board to show that Leicester's contribution in both method and model, is original and distinctive. Already Christian, Hindu, Sikh and Muslim groups have pledged donations. 

Our Mitzvah Day effort does not collect money but bathroom items. We do not need £1 off you when a pair of toothbrushes costing 10p at the checkout will do for our collection. As with last year, however, the reality is very different with people donating over and above our expectations. Generosity is an attribute which is often missing in any discourse which attempts to define the meaning of "Britishness". Rather than some who are obsessed by the criteria of ethnicity, we should instead focus on ethics. By doing this we can have a proper assessment about the input made to advance life for all in the UK. 

The Jewish community offers a blueprint for other minorities as to how a small community, can make a sizeable contribution to wider society. The good deeds of the Jewish community in this city stretching back several centuries, reminds us that communities, however small, have been through many storms yet by remaining resilient and resolute, their efforts have generated rewards which everyone in society benefits from. 

Mitzvah Day is next Sunday. 

Riaz Ravat is based at St Philip's Centre, Leicester

CHRISTIANS AWARE COURSE ON THE PSALMS: 1

At Christchurch, Clarendon Park Road, this evening for the first session in a new course on the Psalms. The course is offered as part of Faith Awareness, the Inter Faith programme of Christians Aware.

There are 32 people in attendance, the largest number I've seen here. The room is packed - so much so that it's decided we'll be meeting in a bigger space next week.

Our speaker is Father Fabian, of Leicester's Dominican Priory. Barbara Butler intoruces him as a theologian who works with young people in the church, with a special interest in international students.

Father Fabian started by reading the 23rd Psalm, arguably the best known and most popular of all the Psalms (in the translation from the Book of Common Prayer):

The Lord is my shepherd;
 therefore can I lack nothing.
He shall feed me in a green pasture,
 and lead me forth beside the waters of comfort.
He shall convert my soul,
 and bring me forth in the paths of righteousness for his
  Name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
 for thou art with me;
 thy rod and thy staff comfort me.
Thou shalt prepare a table before me in the presence of them
  that trouble me;
 thou hast anointed my head with oil,
 and my cup shall be full.
Surely thy loving-kindness and mercy shall follow me all the
  days of my life;
 and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Father Fabian asks us to hold in our minds two basic truths about the Psalms: that they are poems and that they are Jewish.

As poems, they speak in images, they don't use everyday terminology or style (but use rhythmic, heightened language, not everyday terminology or style). As a reader or listener, you're not standing on the outside looking in. In the case of a poem, you're drawn into the lived experience. Poems have an unbounded sort of quality, in that they are open to meaning beyond that immediately intended by the author.

As Jewish texts, their origins and meanings have to be understood and appreciated in the context of Jewish culture and history. While he does not intend to mean that we can't do anything with the Psalms without being an expert on Judaism, Father Fabian does ask us to consider in what ways a Christian (or anyone of religious affiliation other than Jewish) can relate to the Psalms. This is clearly a topic of special interest to me (all the more so in that I'm giving a talk on the Psalms from a Bahá'í perspective in a fortnight's time). I'm rather sorry that we're not going to be listening to anyone offering Buddhist, Hindu, Jain or Sikh appreciations of the Psalms as part of this course.

Father Fabian gives us a historical tout of the place of the Psalms in Christian worship and how this has changed down the ages - with particular reference to the changes he has seen in his own lifetime.

In her closing remarks, Suzanne Jones thanks Father Fabian for his talk, which she describes as having set out a "groundplan" for the rest of the course.

Future sessions will include perspectives on the Psalms from Bahá'í, Jewish and Muslim perspectives; evenings devoted to Christian and Jewish singing of the Psalms; hands on experience of Creative Writing and Letterpress Printing based on the Psalms.

In the photo above: Father Fabian with Beate Dehnen.

COUNCIL OF FAITHS BOARD MEETING

Meeting of the Board of Directors of Leicester Council of Faiths this evening at the Welcome Centre, Bishop Street, Town Hall Square. Of our eight member faith communities, five are represented in this meeting (Bahá'í, Christian, Hindu, Jewish, Muslim). Among topics discussed this evening: our annual Peace Pilgrimage coach tour of selected places of worship around Leicester; our 25th anniversary; our Annual General Meeting (the date for which is fixed this evening on 11 October, although we haven't agreed a venue or guest speaker); Holocaust Memorial Day 2012.

IS LEICESTER GETTING MORE RACIST?

From today's Leicester Mercury:

Is Leicester getting more racist?

Dr Samuel Lebens believes it is. This is his tale of two cities: an old, welcoming one, and a modern city that he says tolerates hatred of its embattled Jewish minority

I was privileged to grow in up in Leicester; a beautiful city with fantastic schools, and a vibrant multi-cultural community. I cherish the ethnic diversity of my childhood.

Now, I'm studying to become a Rabbi where the study of Judaism is the only religion on the curriculum.

But, so moved was I during my youth by the wealth of multicultural wisdom around me that I chose to take a GCSE in Sikhism – a strikingly elegant religion with an egalitarian ethic.

I was also struck by the beauty of the other religions that surrounded me: Hinduism, Islam, and Christianity. These experiences, I carry with me in to my adult life.

As a leader of the National Union of Students (NUS), I was in joint charge of their campaign against racism and fascism.

I recall a motion that was debated at a national conference. The motion called for the NUS to condemn the practice of women wearing a headscarf.

My childhood experiences in Leicester had inoculated me from the xenophobia that motivates this suggestion.

I was among the first to stand in front of the 1,000 students at the conference, to defend a woman's right to dress as she pleases.

I couldn't be moved by the notion that Islam is inherently bigoted or prejudiced. My childhood included too many counter examples to any such claim.

I grew up in a Jewish community that felt safe within this multicultural environment.

Leicester has never been home to a large number of Jews. But we've always been proud of our association with it.

Indeed, the number of Jewish mayors that have graced Leicester's City Hall is vastly disproportionate to our numbers.

Growing up in that community, habituated to the tolerance around me, gave me a confidence in my minority identity. I owe that to the city of Leicester.

But let me describe to you another city.

At best, it can be described as a city that tolerates the anti-Semitism in its midst.

In the past few years, I have found it is almost impossible to walk down its main streets without having anti-Semitic abuse hurled at me and my family.

Cars slow down, with windows opened, in order to unleash a bloodcurdling howl of Jew-hatred.

I don't feel comfortable to dress, outwardly, as a Jew in that city.

It is a place to which I fear to bring my children; I don't want them to know the face of anti-Semitism.

A young relative of the Rabbi, in that city, had a pellet gun shot at him indiscriminately. The synagogue there has been the target of repeated acts of vandalism.

Recently, anti-Semites located the home of its only Orthodox Rabbi.

They hurled bricks through its door in the middle of the night. The fear that such an attack can strike into the hearts of a young family is barely describable.

When will the next brick come? Will it still be a brick, or will it, God forbid, be something worse?

How are they supposed to explain the attacks to their children? It is the sort of fear that can drive a family, and even a community, out of a city.

The city I'm now describing is also Leicester; the Leicester of my adulthood.

Not since Simon de Montfort, who was known for his Jew-hatred, has Leicester been so overcast with the shadow of anti-Semitism.

Leicester's Jewish community is shrinking. It is unlikely to last as a viable community for another generation.

Its youth are attracted to larger centres of Jewish life. But, under the leadership of its vibrant young Rabbi and his wife, the community has been host to something of a renaissance.

Leicester would like to believe its greatest asset is its communal cohesion.

Mercury reporter Adam Wakelin's recent feature expressed his dismay at the attacks on our Rabbi and his family, but concluded that Leicester is, nevertheless, a tolerant town.

"Once upon a time we made socks and shoes," he wrote. "Now we do diversity. Rather well, usually."

But Leicester should be under no illusion about the scale of the problem it faces.

Very few of Leicester's Jews dress outwardly as Jews (in skull caps, and fringes on the corners of their clothes).

But, when a Jew does walk around dressed in traditional garb, there's almost bound to be to be a confrontation.

Community cohesion might be good, generally, but if even one religious identity cannot flourish there, then it cannot be said to be a city that "does diversity".

What are Leicester's faith communities going to do? What is the council going to do?

Other than issuing reassuring statements, how are they going to combat the rise of anti-Semitic attitudes?

Many of the anti-Semites who have confronted me in Leicester were of clear religious affiliation, and belonged to ethnic minorities themselves. They should have known better.

I haven't a clue who's responsible for this most recent spate of attacks; I certainly won't jump to any assumptions.

However, Councillor Sood was surely right to claim that "attacks on one religion are attacks on all religions".

Until the rank and file membership of faith groups in Leicester take this lesson to heart, those communities have a duty to do more than issue reassuring quotes, however heartfelt.

I appreciate their support but what are they actually going to do? What are you going to do?

The last chapter of Leicester's Jewish history is currently being written.

It could be a glorious ending: an old, venerable community, winds down, merging with larger communities elsewhere.

Alternatively, the last chapter could be one in which the Jewish community is hounded and bullied out of its city by an anti-Semitism that almost goes unnoticed.

Which of these cities does Leicester want to be?

Dr Samuel Lebens is studying towards Rabbinical ordination and lives with his wife and two children in Israel.

BUILDING TOLERANCE

Photo of Leicester Orthodox Synagogue by Ben Ravilious (with permission)

A follow-up article in today's Leicester Mercury, after it reported the attack on the home of the Rabbi of Leicester Hebrew Congregation on its front page last Saturday (28 May)

Building Tolerance 

What happened to Rabbi Pink and his family was cowardly and creates fear. That is what we are working against

By Adam Wakelin

It was a throwback, the kind of headline you don't expect to see any more. Certainly not in Leicester. Yet there it was, on Saturday's front page: "Rabbi's home attacked by racist thugs".

We need to keep things in perspective, of course. Religious and cultural tolerance isn't coming off the rails just because a few brain-dead bigots took it upon themselves to break Rabbi Shmuli Pink's windows.

Even so, it doesn't sit easily with how we like to see ourselves.

Part of who we are, of what we've become, is that people in this city all rub along relatively happily.

Leicester has never knocked anyone flat with the force of its personality, but it has forged an identity from its respect of different cultures.

Once upon a time we made socks and shoes. Now we do diversity. Rather well, usually.

And the Jews, Leicester's oldest and perhaps least visible minority, have done more than most to build those bridges – and much else.

There are many notables from a community that has never numbered more than 700 to 800.

Children of all creeds and colours chase the pigeons around the fountain in Town Hall Square.

The fountain was bought for us by a Jew: Wealthy businessman, philanthropist and four-times mayor Israel Hart.

He also paid for the building of Leicester's first branch library and laid out Spinney Hill Park.

Goldsmiths Library, another landmark, was paid for by the industrialist Mac Goldsmith.

The illustrious Dr Dub, a deputy director of public health in Leicester, could have earned handsome sums from a private practice. Instead, he chose to pioneer the treatment of the city's children.

Dr Frank May, a Leicester businessman, was given the Freedom of the City for his charitable endeavours. Three city mayors have been Jewish.

"A lot has been achieved by a small community," says Aubrey Newman, an emeritus professor of history at the University of Leicester.

"It has always punched above its weight."

If confirmation is needed of how big a part the Jewish community has played in Leicester's public life you only need look at the names of donors who helped pay for the building, in 1897, of the synagogue in Highfields.

Jews and Gentiles sit side by side on that board in the synagogue's vestry – a statement of unity and an acknowledgement of the contribution made to the city's economic and civic prosperity by Jews.

It was a community that had come a long way in a short space of time.

Simon De Montfort may have infamously banished the Jews from Leicester in 1231, but a formal Jewish community didn't really establish itself in the city until the 1870s.

A lot has been made of De Montfort's edict and the indelible stain his actions left on a city that has founded its future on tolerance.

His greatest crime was being a man of his time, believes Prof Newman.

There have never been anti-Semitic riots in Leicester, says Prof Newman. Even De Montfort's medieval purge wasn't entirely successful.

He didn't have dominion over all of the city and there is evidence Jews did remain.

That's not to say life was without its bumps and bruises.

The book Jewish Voices: Memories of Leicester in the 1940s and 50s has first-hand accounts of how hard it could be.

"One of my earliest memories is being told by the twins who lived across the road that they weren't allowed to play with me. Why? Because I was a Jew," said Rifka Mayers.

"I learnt at an early age to deny who I was – it made being at school safe."

Bernard Besbrode told a similar story. "At school you lived with anti-Semitism," he said. "I know all the names. I've been called all the names."

Mathilda Applebaum was at Wyggeston Girls' School in the early 1950s. The rather fine hedge now in Regent Road is testament to those less enlightened times.

"We had to stay out of assembly and scripture lessons so we did gardening," she said.

Others had different experiences.

"I never experienced anti-Semitism," said Katherine May. "We had lots of non-Jewish friends who, when they entertained us, made sure they provided all the food we could eat."

The late 1970s and early 80s were another troubling time as Swastikas started appearing on walls and the National Front went on the march against Asians, blacks and Jews.

The idiots didn't get their way. That doesn't mean prejudice ever completely went away.

Leicester is a world in one city now, and it has a world's worth of problems to absorb. Not always successfully.

When tensions explode in Palestine and Israel, it has ramifications much closer to home.

"I have some wonderful friends in the Muslim community. We are working hard on community cohesion and mutual respect," says Tony Nelson, the Jewish vice-chairman of Leicester's Council of Faiths.

"Down at grassroots level it is perhaps a different story. There is an awful lot of vitriolic stuff on the internet – and young people are impressionable.

"No-one can condone what happened to Rabbi Pink and his family. It was cowardly and it creates fear. That is what we are working against."

A lot is being done to defuse tensions and tackle prejudice.

Three colleges in Leicester have a Jewish chaplain. The synagogue holds open days for schoolchildren.

A Family of Abraham dialogue group has been established to bring members of the Christian, Muslim and Jewish communities together.

The St Phillip's Centre, established to build bonds between faiths, takes roadshows into schools and colleges.

Laurels aren't being rested on. But that doesn't make the fear go away.

A couple of Jewish people who spoke to the Mercury for this story didn't want their names going in the newspaper.

Why? They feared repercussions. Putting your head above the parapet is something some in this community are still instinctively fearful of.

Last year's Mitzvah Day, which saw progressive and orthodox Jews standing outside supermarkets to collect cash to help victims of domestic violence, was momentous in its own modest way.

It was the first time the community had rattled a tin under the noses of the Leicester public and said, hey, we're Jewish, we're doing something good here, help us out.

The reaction was overwhelmingly positive.

What happened to Rabbi Shmuli is a setback.

"It's very depressing and quite concerning that a major religious leader has been attacked," says Riaz Ravat, an interfaith worker at the St Phillip's Centre. "Our thoughts and prayers go out to him.

"The Jewish community is doing a sterling amount of work to tackle prejudice and misunderstanding.

"These incidents illustrate that we are on a journey and we have to keep plugging away."

HATE ATTACKS ON HOME OF RABBI

This article appears in this week's Jewish Chronicle:

Hate attacks on home of Rabbi

By Cathy Forman

The Leicester Hebrew Congregation rabbi’s house and car have been targeted by anti-Semitic vandals in three nocturnal attacks over the past three weeks.

Bricks twice shattered windows of Rabbi Shmuli Pink’s property, half-a-mile from the city centre synagogue. On another occasion, a brick was thrown through his car window.

Rabbi Pink said that although no one was injured, “this was not a pleasant experience. However, we are remaining strong.”

The minister, who lives with his wife Rifki and their seven children, praised the efforts of the local police. “We are very happy with what the police are doing. They are responding excellently.

He has served the Midlands community for nearly 10 years.

Synagogue security officer Laurence Jacobs said the local community of around 400 enjoyed good relations with other faiths in the city.

“We have the support of other faith communities, who are appalled at what has happened.” Local Police Inspector Shane O’Neill said: “We are treating these incidents as religiously motivated due to the victim’s position in the community and believe the incidents are isolated.

“We are working closely with the victim, the community and other agencies to resolve these to everyone’s satisfaction”

KELVINGROVE: MIXED MEDIA BOXES ABOUT THE HOLOCAUST

This is part of an extensive exhibit about Jews who arrived in Glasgow in the early and mid-twentieth century, fleeing persecution of different forms in different parts of Europe. The exhibit is contained in a section on the upper floor entitled "Conflict and Consequence".

Asked in 1990 by a distant relative to help compile a family tree, I found the task impossible, as so many family members had disappeared in the Holocaust.

Instead, I spent the next five years researching and making Holocaust artworks in memory of the millions who perished.

Testimony by Myer Lacome, artist 

Arbeit Macht Frei (1996)

Myer Lacome, Mixed media box

“Arbeit Macht Frei” – work leads to freedom – were the deceptive words on the main gate at Auschwitz Camp. Auschwitz, near Krakow in Poland, was the largest concentration camp and killing complex. 

The Burning of the Books, Germany, 10 May 1933 (1999)

Myer Lacome, Mixed media box

In 1933 the Nazis publicly burnt books by those Jewish and non-Jewish authors they disapproved of. Jews were forced out of their jobs. Some academics, artists and writers were able to flee. 

Kristallnacht, Germany, 9 November 1938 (1998)

Myer Lacome, Mixed media box

The night of broken glass – Kristallnacht. During this terrifying Nazi anti-Jewish pogrom – organised massacre – 267 synagogues, 1,000 prayer halls and 7,500 businesses were destroyed. Ninety-one Jews were killed and 26,000 arrested.

MY SISTER WANTED A GODLESS FUNERAL. BUT STILL INVITED GOD

Bereavement services - burial and cremation - is a topic that takes a lot of our attention at Leicester Council of Faiths. With that in mind, I was very interested to read this distinctive take on the subject in today's Guardian.

My sister wanted a godless funeral. But still invited God

A royal wedding in a register office – that's the sort of validation those of us who want to live and die as non-believers need

By Jon Canter

My sister Rosemary died of cancer in March, aged 61. As her next-of-kin, it fell to me to organise her funeral. The undertaker's office, I soon discovered, is no place for the bereaved. You can't afford to be dazed or vulnerable, otherwise you will weakly agree to all the standard things, which was not what my sister wanted.

I fought against a wooden coffin and a hearse – securing, after some negotiation, a final journey in a cardboard coffin in the back of a Volvo estate. (Don't worry. It was black.) Then the undertaker asked what religion my sister was. "Atheist," I replied. That, of course, was a nonsense. Atheism is – doh! – not a religion. In that case, he asked, who was going to conduct the funeral? If the Volvo was the unconventional substitute for the hearse, who was the unconventional substitute for the vicar?

Happily – I insist on that word – it was me. Told before Christmas that she had months to live, my sister had the inclination and the courage to prescribe the kind of service she wanted and ask me to conduct it. What she wanted, in a word, was a godless funeral. How easy was that to achieve?

In many ways, the planning of a godless funeral was a liberation. For our mother's cremation we had, via that secular miracle the internet, procured the services of a rabbi. (Oh yes, my sister's non-religion was, in fact, "Jewish atheist".) He recited the prayers with commendable gusto. But he was much like the vicar so familiar from Church of England funerals – he didn't know the deceased; he couldn't eulogise her, except to say he'd heard nice things about her from her family. How many times have you shifted in your pew with embarrassment, as a vicar tries to celebrate a member of his flock who, it's soon apparent, is a bit of a mystery sheep? I knew my elder sister for all but the first four years of her life. In celebrating her, I had infinitely more knowledge and authority than a religious intermediary only doing his or her job.

So. I would talk about her, as would two old friends she nominated.

Then what? How, in the name of godless, would we fill our allotted span? Rosemary wanted a silence, to allow everyone to think their own thoughts. To that – without telling her, for fear of embarrassment – I added a coda, derived from those football matches in which the crowd observes a minute's silence for a dead former player or manager: that silence is followed by rousing applause, which somehow conveys: "Thank you for everything. But now we have to get on with the game."

So that is what we did at my sister's funeral: I announced there would be a silence, at the end of which everyone should applaud, long and loudly, to give thanks for Rosemary's life. It worked wonderfully, though I say it myself. Others might call it gimmicky and new-fangled. At a religious funeral you draw on rituals and prayers with the gravitas only centuries of usage can bring. You take from The Book of Common Prayer, the liturgy, the Qur'an, the Torah; but there we were, at my sister's funeral, paying homage to Match of the Day.

Eulogies and silence, Rosemary felt, should be punctuated by music. ("Do you think I'm being too controlling?" she asked, as she sat on her sofa, scribbling notes about her own funeral. "Of course not," I said, making a mental note to tell the congregation of her question. For that is another benefit of a godless funeral: humour can be encouraged.)

Without hesitation, she specified the opening song. Nothing, she said, more evoked her early childhood than We Plough the Fields and Scatter. Brilliant. Now I could stand up and say, as I duly did: "By the power invested in me by my sister and Richard Dawkins, please stand and sing We Plough the Fields and Scatter." To return to Match of the Day, it certainly felt like an early away goal for God. More such goals were to follow. She wanted Milton's On His Blindness, about a man who, in losing his sight, finds that his soul is "more bent / To serve therewith my Maker". I could go on. And I will.

She craved the Lacrimosa from Mozart's Requiem Mass: "Huic ergo parce, Deus, pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem." Yes indeed. Amen to that.

She may not have wanted Him at her funeral, but she needed Him. My sister, born in England in 1949, a singer of hymns in her primary school, grew up with Him. She knew that He elevates. God is the man for the big occasion. So, this is what I hope will happen before my own funeral: there'll be a great state occasion that is godless, to give hope and a kind of validation to all of us who want to live and die as non-believers.

Imagine it: a state funeral or a service of remembrance for those killed in war, in a crematorium, built by Zaha Hadid, as awesome as St Paul's Cathedral. Now imagine this: a royal wedding in Westminster register office, with a registrar standing in the archbishop of Canterbury's God-fearing shoes, as the unbelieving bride enters to the sound of an ancient and venerated secular love song, of the order of the Beatles' Here, There and Everywhere..

Unthinkable, isn't it? Treasonable, probably. Socially embarrassing, certainly. We are not a religiously observant nation – except when it really counts.

Illustration by Otto Detmer

MINDFULNESS & MORALITY 10: JEWISH PERSPECTIVE

At Christchurch, Clarendon Park Road it's the tenth session in the Mindfulness and Morality course offered by Christians Aware as part of their Faith Awareness programme.

We're ready for the Jewish presentation this evening, but our scheduled facilitator has let us know that he is unwell and unable to attend. He hasn't been able to provide any materials for us to use.

We start off in three small groups, reading and discussing the Council of Faiths leaflets on the Jewish community. From what we know about Jewish belief and practice, what do we find of interest in terms of ethics and morality?

While we do this, Beate Dehnen comes to the rescue, carrying out some speedy research on just such issues (using books, I should stress, not online - and books in German, at that - which she translates so effortlessly that we'd never have known they weren't in English!). Beate is on the left in the photo above, with Kevin Commons (one of the course facilitators, from the Zen Serene Meditation Group) to her right.

Kevin has with him a few back-up moral dilemmas, prepared for this sort of eventuality; however, the material that Beate shares with us is more than sufficient to see us through to the end of the session.

We discuss how our historical and contemporary understanding, experience and aspirations related to justice, fairness and human rights are related to Judaism - to the people and/or State of Israel. Some people in the room this evening have visited Auschwitz; inevitably, that comes into the discussion too.

Something of a DIY session this evening, then, but enjoyable and instructive nevertheless.

As a small group of us are leaving Christchurch shortly after 2100, we're buttonholed (in the most courteous manner) by a woman called Becca, who asks us what we're doing. She says that she passes the church (of which she's a parishioner) the same time every Monday evening and sees people from our group coming out, chatting and laughing. We tell her about the course, I give her my card and direct her to the blog. That's a nice way to end the evening.

SO WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?

Today's edition of the Leicester Mercury carries a double-page spread entitled "So what happens next?" comparing various beliefs (religious and non-religious) about death - and what we think might come after. It’s not on the Mercury website, but it’s interesting reading so I’ve typed it up. I've included a photo of the article, as it has some nice pictures of some of the people who were approached for comment by the Mercury.

The article doesn't mention Leicester Council of Faiths and it doesn't cover all the religions represented on it. There’s no Bahá'í, Buddhist or Jain point of view given here. The Council of Faiths wasn't approached to take part in this (as far as I know) which I think is a pity, but a couple of our members are quoted here. The article also contains contributions from a Pagan, a scientist, a pathologist and "Britain's Youngest Columnists, Aged 8". Definitely some diversity in there then!

So what happens next?

So then: death. We like to try to answer the big questions in the Mercury. Here Adam Wakelin and Lee Marlow asked some Leicestershire experts the ultimate one: what happens when you die?

For something that doesn't really bear thinking about, we spend an awful lot of time thinking about it. Perhaps only sex can eclipse death when it comes to all the different expressions we've thought up for it.

When you breathe your last, you don't just die. You croak it, cark it, kick the bucket, push up the daisies and give up the ghost. Put more sensitively, you pass away, meet your maker, join the choir invisible, cross over, go to a better place.

But where and what is that "better place" exactly? Does it even exist?

We went looking for answers. here with their thoughts are religious leaders, scientists and our blabbermouth eight-year-old columnists Dylan and Oliver - who, let's face it, have no less experience on this subject than anybody else.

The Hindu

We are all, whether we know it or not, riders on a great cosmic carousel.

"We believe in Karma" says Hindu priest Hemang Bhatt. "What goes around comes around."

Death is as elementary as an Albert Einstein equation, believes Hemang. Energy isn't created or destroyed, he says. It simply goes somewhere else.

Coal can be burnt to create electricity and light. When someone dies the same principle follows. Our life energy, or soul, passes into another living being.

Do good deeds and it will enter into a human. Be less virtuous and you may come back as an insect or animal.

"A dog cannot pray or cook its own food," says Hemang. "It suffers."

Only when the slate has been "wiped clean" for past sins will someone be reincarnated again as a human.

Be good enough for long enough over many, many lifetimes and your soul will reach Nirvana, God's abode.

"You never feel cold and are never hungry, you stay with God in bliss for billions and billions of human years."

And after that? You go back into a human body and the cycle begins once again.

The Jew

For Jews this life is a preparation for the next. We sometimes get a taste of paradise here, but it is a mere morsel in a draughty corridor compared to the feast we savour in Heaven - provided you've behaved yourself.

"This world is just an antechamber. What lies beyond is a banquet hall," says Rabbi Shmuli Pink.

"When someone passes away it is not the end of the road. They continue on a different plane."

If a person has lived a sinful life there will be no entry to Heaven - at least for a time.

"If your soul is a dirty suit, then the place called hell in the modern world is a bit like the dry cleaners," says the Rabbi of Leicester Hebrew Congregation. "Only once the mud has been removed can you go on to a better place.

"Heaven is above and beyond any type of pleasure we can receive in this world."

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't cherish what we have in this world, and help others while we are here.

"We should glorify life, focus on the here and now and accomplish as much as we can."

The Scientist

Those of squeamish disposition are advised to skip this bit. 

Heaven might be boundless Elysian fields of daffodils and delight, but biological death is nasty, ugly and gruesome.

Decomposition begins with bacteria in the bowel starting to proliferate says Paul Whiting, professor of biomedical science at De Montfort University.

"Gas and all sorts of other nasty things are released," says Professor Whiting. Rigor mortis sets in a few hours after and will last for nearly a day. 

Skin contracts, darkening the face with a five o'clock shadow bristly beard. Blood, with no pumping to keep it circulating, obeys the law of gravity. Ugly blooms of congealed purple appear under the flesh.

After 20 hours or so, bacteria are starting to break down the cells of your body. "Horrible enzymes" safely locked away in these cells when everything was working are released.

These "suicide bag enzymes" - responsible for breaking down food, mopping up injured cells and digesting bacteria in life - now run amok.

The technical term is autophagy. Auto is Greek for self. Phagy is Greek for eat. Your body - that thing you looked after, fed, and possibly even treated to a couple of pints of lager on a Friday night - has gone cannibal. It is, quite literally, eating itself.

Heat and humidity have a large say in decomposition, but flesh and blood usually becomes a bag of bone within a year or two.

So that's it? Well not quite. Boil us down and we're basically just a jumble of billions of atoms. They don't die. They just become something else.

The Pagan

Not entirely sure what happens when you die? Can't make your mind up whether it's one thing or another, or something else entirely?

Come and join the Pagans. They're not entirely sure, either.

Sally Singer-Fraser is a wicca [sic], a Pagan witch, and a firm believer in the liberal notion that you should be free to believe what you want to believe, not what some ancient scripture tells you.

"There are all sorts of ideas about death and dying under the umbrella of Paganism," she says.

"It varies. We don't tell people what they should believe. Paganism allows you to make your own mind up."

There's a fairly common theme - that is, when you die, the body is committed to the earth, and the Goddess, the Earth, takes over.

"I believe your body decays, but your soul, your consciousness, is eternal and is looked after by the Goddess. The Goddess is the creative spirit of the universe.

"She looks after everyone, equally. You don't have to buy a place in this kingdom by going to church or doing endless good deeds. She loves everyone, regardless of their faults.

"Lots of pagans believe in reincarnation. And there's also a belief that you build your own debt in this life - and that if you have been bad, then maybe there will be a lesson for you to learn in the next life."

The Pathologist

Where do you go when you die? The existential answer has given us the greatest stories ever told. Fact or fiction? Who knows? The flesh and blood practicalities of your final journey are easier to map.

You either go to a funeral parlour or you find yourself on a pathologist's table.

No pulse and no breathing are not good signs for any of us, says Angus McGregor, a consultant historo-pathologist at Leicester Royal Infirmary.

Should those symptoms persist then you are as dead as the proverbial dodo. 

Your GP or a hospital doctor, depending on where you die, will generally take care of the paperwork.

A death certificate will be issued if they are sure, on the balance of probabilities, how your demise occurred. You can't be buried or cremated without a death certificate. that's the law.

If you might have been murdered, died as a result of an accident or a possible suicide, succumbed to an industrial disease or simply expired unexpectedly, then the coroner will be called.

The coroner, depending on the circumstances, will probably request a post-mortem to be carried out by a pathologist.

This might be a forensic post-mortem - to establish possible foul play or other factors that may lead to a prosecution - or a general post-mortem to establish the cause of death.

Only then will the death certificate be issued. 

This will allow your family or loved ones to formally register your death and get on with funeral arrangements.

The Muslim

There is precious little difference between the Muslim view of death and spirituality and the version favoured by many Christians, says Suleman Nagdi, chair of the Muslim Burial Council of Leicester.

"They are both very similar," he says. "They are both Abrahamic religions, after all, and they share many of the same messages.

"We see death not as the end, but as a gateway to the spiritual life. The body that houses you soul, that goes to the earth when you die.

"But the soul itself ... the soul never dies."

This is a conversation that could go on for hours, says Mr Nagdi, a topic that could fill every page of today's Mercury.

"It's tricky to give this to you in a snapshot, but, basically, we believe that everything you do in life has a consequence - and that will determine your after life.

"There are two strands to this: i) you have to believe in the oneness of God and ii) you have to be a good person who does good things."

Always? And what are "good things"?

"Well, that is up to God to judge. You can do 99 things wrong and do one thing right, and if that's acceptable to him, then that is okay.

"Likewise, you could do 99 things right and one thing wrong and he could turn you away.

"This is our struggle. It is a permanent reminder that we must continue to choose the right path, not the wrong one."

Britain's youngest columnists, aged 8

OLIVER: I think you go to heaven when you die, if it really exists.

DYLAN: When you die, your soul flies up into the clouds.

OLIVER: You're a ghost when you're dead. Ghosts can go through walls, but not bodies. When you're a skeleton they can get out. They go to heaven.

DYLAN: It's really hot up there in heaven because it's really right next to the sun.

OLIVER: Heaven is a nice place. there are quite a lot of nice people there. You go and join your family. There are no knives or forks so you have to eat with your hands.

DYLAN: It's like being on your summer holidays, but it lasts longer.

OLIVER: Some people say there are quite a lot of nice ladies in heaven and some of them are your slaves. I don't believe it. There are nice ladies, but they’re not slaves.

DYLAN: When you're in heaven your body gets covered with soil. You don't need your body any more and it slowly fades away.

OLIVER: I think God might live in a castle in heaven, like the Queen, but I only think that. I don't know. You only see him on special occasions.

DYLAN: God is in heaven, but he's in space as well. He's everywhere. You can only see him when you're dead.

OLIVER: Hell is like a gigantic prison, 100 times bigger than any prison on earth. You go to hell if you do something against the law, even if you don't get caught for it, like thieving or fighting in a pub.

DYLAN: I think the good bit of you goes to heaven and the bad bit goes to hell. And that bit gets stuck there forever. That's why you need to be good.

The Sikh

Sikh Surinder Singh Jagdev is a civil engineer. He’s from London, where he lived with his family, earning a decent wage while wondering if there is more to life than the one he was living.

In 2005, he came to Leicester to volunteer at the Welford Road Gur Panth Parkash temple. He was supposed to stay for two weeks. Six years later, he’s still there. “I think this is the happiest and most fulfilling time of my life.”

Death, says Surinder, is merely the end of one chapter in the Sikh religion. The body decays, but the soul soars and never dies. The soul is eternal, living on not in heaven or hell – but in the body of another.

“We believe that when you die, your soul enters another body – a body chosen by the creator,” says Surinder. “So a child is born and a soul is allocated.”

The allocation of souls and bodies is not haphazard, it’s deliberate, says Surinder. Your acts in the previous life will determine the body and the life you are given in the next.

“It is why one child is born in depravation, and why one child is born with a silver spoon in their mouth.

“It is here where you account for your behaviour and your deeds to the creator, who is omnipresent, formless, he is everywhere.

“We don’t believe in a heaven or a hell.

“We believe in a life on earth, a journey from darkness to light, from ignorance to knowledge, where one should always strive to do good deeds, because that will lead to a better, more wholesome life when you die.”

The Christian

First things first, says Canon David Monteith: he has no rational proof for his beliefs; no irrefutable “here-you-are” scientific evidence.

“But I have faith,” he says. “I believe that God has made me, that he loves me, and that death – while it’s an interruption – is not the end.

“All that’s valuable in life, all that God has given us, will continue to be held by God in his hands.

“So, while death is devastating and, naturally, there is grief for the ones left behind, it is not the final word, the last act of the play.

“It was St Paul who said: ‘Where is your sting, oh death? Where is your victory?’

“Death is what makes us human, it is what differentiates us from God and, as Christians, that allows us to face death head on.”

So what happens when you die? To the body and spirit?

“The body decays, it goes back to the ground, but the spirit continues to grow, nurtured by God’s love. I don’t believe in reincarnation. Yes, some Christians do, but the church does not teach it.”

It is up to you if you want your spirit to enter the Kingdom of God, says Canon Monteith.

“I like to think that offer is open to everyone regardless – it is up to you if you want to take it.

And you don’t save that place by going to church ever Sunday?

“He doesn’t say go to church. He says love your neighbour and love God.

“I don’t think God punishes you. He welcomes you. It is up to you if you want to be welcomed.”