Iqbal Mohamed

I did not know Jo Cox, and Jo Cox did not know me, but what I do know is that Jo Cox was my friend. Hers is a legacy that we must not just honour with words, but live in practice. This is an opportunity to remind the country of Jo’s passion, drive and reason for being, why she was in this place and why she is so deeply missed. I am privileged to speak in this debate, and I thank the hon. Member for Spen Valley (Kim Leadbeater)—my predecessor and constituency neighbour—for continuing Jo’s wonderful work and legacy. I salute you, my friend. I was elected in 2024, so I did not have the honour of working with Jo, but—I am not saying this to cause offence to any Member—I feel that I know Jo Cox better than I know many Members of this House today, and it is not for want of trying. I absolutely adored the description given by the hon. Member for Birmingham Yardley (Jess Phillips), who said that Jo was “quite mental”. I would qualify that by saying she was quite good mental. There is mental and then there is mental, and she was of the good kind. Having been elected as the Member of Parliament for Dewsbury and Batley, I feel extremely privileged to speak in this debate. Jo was born in Dewsbury and represented Batley and Spen, the two towns that I now represent, making it a special honour for me to be able to speak today. The values that she embodied and championed—tolerance, fairness and kindness—still echo powerfully across our communities. Much has rightly been made of Jo’s maiden speech, in which she spoke powerfully and eloquently about how “we are far more united and have far more in common than that which divides us.”—[Official Report, 3 June 2015; Vol. 596, c. 674.] That is an apt mission statement or motto for this place, but I have gone through Hansard to see what Jo said immediately before those remarks, which are now internationally recognised. The remarks that she made before that are just as important, even though they are less commented on. She said: “Batley and Spen is a gathering of typically independent, no-nonsense and proud Yorkshire towns and villages. Our communities have been deeply enhanced by immigration, be it of Irish Catholics across the constituency or of Muslims from Gujarat in India or from Pakistan, principally from Kashmir.”—[Official Report, 3 June 2015; Vol. 596, c. 674.] As we look at the unsavoury scenes that have unfolded across the UK in the past week, from Belfast to Southampton, Jo’s belief in the strength of diversity and the power of connection has never been more important. Listening, respecting differences and building bridges where others might be tempted to build walls all matter today more than ever, and they matter in this place. As we reflect on Jo’s legacy, we must be honest about the marked deterioration in the state of our public life since her heinous murder. Civility, the basic respect that underpins democratic disagreement, has been under unprecedented strain and attack in the past decade. We see it in the abuse increasingly directed at elected representatives, in the growing normalisation of unsavoury discourse and, perhaps most pervasively and drastically, in the digital spaces that increasingly shape our national conversation. Jo understood that vehement disagreement is fundamental to any functioning democracy, but she also understood that democracy cannot function without a basic sense of humanity and a willingness to listen to the views of others in good faith. That is why we must confront one of the defining challenges of our time, which is the role of big tech and social media in poisoning our social fabric. Referring back to some of the comments we have heard, we must confront the wider ecosystem of public commentary from prominent political figures, media personalities and online influencers whose reckless or inflammatory language can help to create the conditions for real-world harm. In the run-up to periods of unrest in communities across our country, we have too often seen divisive narratives, misinformation and the amplification of fear and grievance. Social media platforms have allowed such content to spread rapidly and without sufficient accountability. Why would they do so? Because every click, every like and every forward earns them more pounds or more dollars, and more money for their shareholders. The result is an environment where tensions can be heightened, trust eroded and, in the worst cases, communities pitted against one another. Yesterday, we heard about the violence and riots in Belfast, where masked people—men predominantly—went around the streets shouting, “Foreigners out!” They also went into people’s homes, evicted them and set their homes on fire. This cannot be accepted, tolerated or encouraged. If we are to honour Jo’s legacy, we must be clear that freedom of expression carries responsibility, and that those with large platforms—whether in politics, media or tech—must be held accountable for the impact of their words. Too often, we have allowed these platforms to become amplifiers of anger, division and dehumanisation, without any restrictions. It is a far cry from the open, respectful dialogue on which democracy depends. The Jo Cox Foundation has rightly called for more actions to reduce online harms, but we in this House must be crystal clear that regulation has not gone anywhere near far enough or fast enough. Algorithmic systems reward outrage over empathy. They monetise violence and incitement to violence. Abuse and disinformation spread faster than compliments and the truth, and anonymity acts as a shield for those who seek to bully and threaten. These companies must be brought to heel both for the health of our younger generations and for the health of our democracy and our society. There is a deeper, more insidious link between the toxic nature of online spaces and the growing crisis of loneliness in our society, of which Jo was such a prescient observer. The Jo Cox Commission on Loneliness put this issue firmly on the national agenda, and its relevance has only grown since. There are now half a million more people experiencing chronic loneliness than before the pandemic, with young people among the most likely to feel isolated. The evidence is clear that loneliness weakens social cohesion, reduces trust and leaves individuals more vulnerable to political polarisation and extremism, so when people feel disconnected from each other, our democracy itself becomes more fragile. Jo instinctively understood that connection more than most parliamentarians, which is why her legacy is not just about remembrance, but about the responsibility we have in this House and the other place. It is a responsibility to rebuild civility in our politics and to calm tensions, not inflame them, both in this House and in our wider nation; a responsibility to strengthen the social fabric of our communities, not undermine them by pitting different groups against each other; and a responsibility to ensure that the technologies shaping our lives serve humanity, not damage it. That means taking seriously the call for a renewed cross-Government strategy on loneliness, and one that recognises social connection as fundamental to physical health, mental wellbeing and social cohesion. However, it also means going further. It means holding big tech companies to account for the environments they create, embedding safeguards against online abuse and disinformation, and investing in digital literacy so that people of all ages can navigate these spaces safely and critically. Above all, it means leading by example, because every one of us in this House has a role to play in setting the tone of public debate. I promised in my maiden speech, to this House and to our nation, that I would not deliberately say or do anything to harm any other person. I try to live by that principle, and I apologise to Members of this House and to members of our nation if, in the 23 months I have been an MP, I have failed in that promise, but I will try to do better. We cannot call for civility while engaging in division, and we cannot demand respect while tolerating abuse. If we are to honour Jo’s memory, we must embody her values, not just invoke them. That starts with recognising, as she did, that our shared humanity is greater than our differences, and it continues with the choices we make about how we speak, how we listen and how we treat one another. So I end by echoing the words of the right hon. Member for Ilford North (Wes Streeting) that we must love like Jo, live like Jo, care like Jo and serve like Jo.