


The Home Office just hired a match to run the fireworks stand. Shabana Mahmood steps into the job of Home Secretary as though history itself were a credential: the first Muslim woman, the first politician of Pakistani origin, the first activist-turned-law officer in charge of Britain’s borders, police, and security service. Britain congratulates itself on diversity milestones. The rest of the world—Washington and Jerusalem in particular—sees something else: risk, doubt, and a ministry run by someone whose words and alliances have long tracked closer to movement politics than to national security.
For the United Kingdom, the contradictions are glaring. Mahmood is presented as the enforcer who will “end the hotel farce,” move asylum seekers onto military sites, and speed up removals. In the same breath, she champions a radical reading of the European Convention on Human Rights—one that stretches Article 8 privacy rights into a near-bulletproof vest for migrants contesting deportation. The spectacle is absurd: a Home Secretary promising control at the border while engineering endless litigation that neutralizes her own policies. It is not governance, it is theatre, and the traffickers will see through it faster than the backbenchers.
For Britain’s Jews, this appointment is a cold reminder of who gets to hold the levers of state. Mahmood’s public record is marked by episodes that shook communal trust: cheering on a BDS action that forced the closure of a Birmingham supermarket in 2014, marching under banners that framed Israel as a pariah, and defending rhetoric that blurred the line between protest and mob pressure. Her subsequent condemnations of Hamas after October 7 cannot erase the imagery or the alignment. Jewish families who already live under constant police presence at synagogues and schools now face the knowledge that the woman in charge of protest bans and terror proscriptions once stood shoulder to shoulder with those who would boycott their businesses and normalize their intimidation.
The problem intensifies once the gaze shifts across the Atlantic. President Trump has made counterterrorism, border enforcement, and Islamic extremism central pillars of his foreign and domestic policy. Five Eyes is not a polite talking shop; it is an intelligence covenant built on shared trust and seriousness. Washington has little tolerance for ambiguity when it comes to Islamist movements. A Home Secretary who once flirted with the “resistance” lexicon, who praised Islamic identity in absolutist terms borrowed straight from Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini’s catechism, will raise doubts in DHS, the Pentagon, and Congress. And doubt corrodes intelligence sharing: allies ration what they fear will be mishandled.
Israel’s judgment will be even harsher, because for Israel this is not theory. Mossad tips have repeatedly prevented Iranian terror operations on British soil. Those pipelines of intelligence exist because Jerusalem believes London takes Islamist threats seriously. A Home Secretary with a history of marching under intifada slogans, of treating terrorism as “resistance,” will force Israel to reconsider what it shares. Britain’s own security will be the casualty, for without Israeli leads, MI5 will move slower, blinder, and later.
Mahmood insists that faith is the “absolute core” of her life. Faith itself is not the issue. The issue is when faith, politics, and activism combine into a record that casts doubt on impartiality. The Home Secretary’s job is not to embody a community, not to score history-making headlines, but to project unflinching reliability to allies and uncompromising resolve to adversaries. On that score, Mahmood begins in deficit.
Britain’s security establishment now faces a stress test: will the new Home Secretary govern like the activist she once was, or like the custodian of national survival the job demands? If she leans into her record, Britain will hemorrhage trust with its allies. If she resists it, she may yet prove her doubters wrong.
But there is no middle path. In intelligence, perception is capability. Partners do not share secrets with a question mark. And today Britain has put a question mark in charge of the Home Office.
The Home Office doesn’t need a minister who makes history; it needs one who makes Britain safe.
Bepi Pezzulli is a Solicitor of the Senior Courts of England and Wales and a foreign policy scholar. He is a member of Advance UK’s College and a councillor of the Great British PAC. He tweets at @bepipezzulli.

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