Leigh Ingham

It is a pleasure to serve under your chairship, Dr Murrison. I thank my hon. Friend the Member for Rugby (John Slinger) for securing such an important debate at a particularly important moment. I want to talk about something that, sadly, we seem to talk about only during really challenging periods, but without which everything else becomes much harder—community cohesion. My accent gives me away; I grew up in a town called Burnley, in the north-west of England. For most of my childhood, the only thing that I knew was culturally different about the place where I grew up was that our school summer holidays started two weeks before they did everywhere else. In the summer of 2001, however—which is 25 years ago this summer, shockingly—around the time of my GCSE exams, race riots ripped through my home town. I remember the fear and anger that they caused. For years afterwards, I remember that when telling people that I was from Burnley, all they knew about the place was defined by the race riots—that there had been that awful summer. That period left a deep mark on me and contributed to who I am today, because it taught me that community cohesion is not a slogan, or a line in a strategy document; it is the difference between a town that can pull together when things get tough and one that fractures when it feels pressure. Those experiences shaped my politics. They shaped my belief that fairness and honesty matter, and that we must confront injustice directly and not pretend that it will fix itself. The riots also shaped my determination that the communities that I represent today should never feel that sense of division. In Stafford, Eccleshall and the villages, we are proud of who we are: a county town with deep roots, growing diversity, and incredibly strong traditions of volunteering and neighbourliness. We are home to people of different faiths, backgrounds and experiences. That diversity is a strength, but it only remains a strength if it is underpinned by public trust. Community cohesion is built in small, everyday ways. It is built when a school brings parents together from different backgrounds around a shared commitment to their children’s future. It is built when local volunteers organise a food bank, youth club or community clean-up—which the people in my constituency excel at. It is built when faith leaders choose dialogue over distance, and partnership over parallel lives. A few weeks ago, I brought together local faith leaders in Stafford for a multi-faith roundtable. Leaders from our churches, mosque, gurdwara and other faith communities sat around the same table. We talked openly about the challenges that face our communities— from misinformation online to the rising global tensions that are rippling into our local lives. It struck me that everyone in the room wanted the same thing: safe streets, opportunities for young people, respect and stability. There was a sense that whatever differences we had, we all belonged to the same place. That is what cohesion is. It is not about erasing difference; it is about recognising our shared commonality and humanity. We cannot be complacent, however. We live in an age in which misinformation spreads faster than facts, social media algorithms reward outrage over understanding, global conflicts inflame local tensions in a matter of hours, and economic pressures can make it easier to burn bridges than build them. In that context, cohesion requires leadership. That is not an abstract thing; it is about standards. When those elected to represent our communities use racist language, promote prejudice or undermine the dignity of others, it does not just harm individuals; it corrodes trust in everything and the institutions that hold us together. When councillors are forced to resign or are removed because of racist conduct, that should concern us all; I do not care what party they are from. That is not because of the headlines but what it signals about the tone of our public life. I think that leadership means refusing to normalise that kind of politics; we cannot strengthen cohesion locally if we tolerate that in our politics. As Members of this House, we must choose our words carefully to avoid stoking division for short-term political gain, and we must call out racism, antisemitism, Islamophobia and all forms of hate, consistently and clearly. It also requires investment in the places that bring us all together. Staffordshire had the third-worst cuts to youth services in the country, and I deal weekly with the impacts of those cuts. Community centres, libraries, sports clubs, and arts and cultural groups—they are not nice to have extras; they are the infrastructure of belonging somewhere. They are the places that 14 years of Conservative austerity have decimated. Strengthening community cohesion also requires us all to listen. In my constituency, I hold regular coffee mornings and community meetings. In fact, at the one I had just this weekend, people talked about feeling left behind economically. I hear from families worried about the future. I hear from people who feel misunderstood, and when people feel ignored and unheard, resentment breeds. Cohesion is also about fairness in action. It is about making sure that every opportunity reaches every estate, village and high street. It is also about good jobs, decent housing, strong public services and visible delivery. When people feel secure, they are more open. When they feel abandoned, they are more vulnerable to division. Growing up in Burnley, I saw what happens when economic decline and racial tension collide. It starts, not with violence, but with really small fractures—with rumours, with a sense that someone else is getting more than you. If we want cohesive communities, we have to tackle the root causes. So I ask the Minister: what steps are the Government taking to ensure that towns, such as Stafford, that have experienced economic pressure over the years, are being supported with real investment and opportunity, rather than becoming targets for those who seek to inflame resentment and prejudice for political gain? In Stafford, I see huge hope. I see schools where children of different faiths and backgrounds learn side by side and form friendships that defy stereotypes. I see local businesses that bring together apprentices and staff from across our community. I see volunteers who show up week after week for people they have never met before, and I see faith leaders willing to work together rather than retreat into silos. Community cohesion is not about pretending that we do not disagree; it is about how we disagree. It is about holding space for different views without dehumanising one another. It is about ensuring that our identity as a shared community is stronger than any single dividing line. My message today is simple. Community cohesion does not maintain itself; it must be nurtured, as has been said, and it must be defended and resourced. It must also be modelled by us. In Stafford, we are choosing to build, not to blame; to listen, not to shout; and to stand up for fairness and not allow prejudice to go unchallenged. I know what the alternative looks like—I lived it. Division does not explode overnight; it is cultivated. I am determined that the communities that I represent will always be stronger together than they are apart.