between the secular west and fundamentalist Islam. Parvez believes "life was all there was and when you died you rotted in the earth ... while I am here on the earth I want to make the best of it." He wants to enjoy the material goods of life. 

Ali believes differently:

'The Western materialists hate us,' Ali said. 'Papa, how can you
love something which hates you?' …
Ali addressed his father fluently, as if Parvez were a rowdy crowd
that had to be quelled or convinced. The Law of Islam would
rule the world; the skin of the infidel would bum off again and
again; the Jews and Christers would be routed. The West was a
sink of hypocrites, adulterers, homosexuals, drug takers and prostitutes.
 As Ali talked. Parvez looked out the window as if to check that
they were still in London.
'My people have taken enough. If the persecution doesn't stop
there will be jihad. I, and millions of others, will gladly give our
lives for the cause.'

For Parvez, who grew up in poverty and under the thumb of insensitive Muslim teachers, the west shines like a light. For Ali, who has known nothing but western comfort, the west represents "decadence," lack of purity and degradation.

The father and son talk past each other, not to each other, although the father does try to reach the son. They cannot communicate because neither can understand the other. In the end, violence results. Kureishi is saying that we have to learn to listen to and understand each other before we can hope to solve differences in outlook.

One of the meanings within Kurieshi's "My Son, the Fanatic" is its indictment of fanaticism.

Even though published in 1994, Kurieshi's story speaks to a reality with which the world is struggling today. The issue of so-called "radicalized" youth concerns many people in our world today.  "My Son, the Fanatic" insists that when we encounter that which is different, we must try to understand it.  While our reactions might embrace courses of action that eliminate dialogue, the story reminds us that such knee-jerk reactions should be avoided.

Parvez's problem is that he cannot communicate with his son.  Ali's desire to maintain a passionate embrace of Islam is something that Parvez could have echoed. Instead of being offended and dwelling on his own hurt, Parvez could have shown greater acceptance towards his son. For example, Parvez could have accompanied Ali to the mosque or spoken with leaders of the religious community to whom Ali has declared allegiance.  Dialogue and understanding is replaced with misunderstanding and a lack of trust.  Kurieshi's story equates fanaticism with silencing discussion. When Ali refuses to hear Bettina or his father, it is just as much a form of fanaticism as when Parvez beats his son.  The story's powerful meaning is emphasized in its ending, where no one wins in a world of fanaticism.

The story is very relevant to our world today.  Its meaning reminds us how fanatical displays of violence will not solve any of our problems.  Such paths lead to more disdain, resentment, and future fanatical displays. The story insists that communication is the only way to understand something different and embrace it as a part of our world. Youth like Ali are lost because they do not feel they are being heard.  This reality is addressed in Kurieshi's story and what we experience today.  Looking at Parvez's example and figuring out how to do things better is the ultimate meaning of the story.  It is a message that is more relevant today than ever before.

I think that the title is appropriate for a couple of reasons.  The first is that it represents the gulf between father and son.  One can almost imagine Parvez saying this to his taxi cab colleagues with a sense of despair and lament not because of his son's condition but because of what it will reflect on him as a father.  One of Parvez's fundamental challenges, and failures, as a father is that he is so committed to what others think of he and his name that he believes, wrongly, that his son will follow the same philosophy.  This marriage to the West is something that actually serves to drive a wedge between he and his son.

Another reason why the title is significant because it is meant to be ironic.  In the end, the father is more of a fanatic than the son.  The father is the one who abuses a child who is praying and splits his lip open in a drunken rage.  He is unable to communicate anything other than anger and wrath because of what his son has become:  A devout Muslim.  It is here where the title is most appropriate because the "fanatic" is not the son, but the father.  However, society, as biased as it can be against things it does not understand, would most likely see the son as the fanatic and not the father, for it, too, does not understand why its values would be rejected.  In this, further alienation of the youth is present, leading to greater labels of fanaticism for that which is not understood, making the title not only appropriate but quite prophetic and ominous.

I think that there is much in way of truth in Kurieshi's short story.  I am not entirely certain that one can discount it as fiction.  The reality is that being young, Muslim, and British carries with it a set of preconditions that makes their predicament unique.  The fact that Kurieshi shows Ali to be someone who gravitates to religion in a cosmopolitan and secular setting is reflective of this.  In the view of many sociologists, Ali's generation is uniquely poised in issues of spirituality and how this vision fits into the "Western" vision of progress and modernity:

This pivotal generation is already defying many of the experts. They are not conforming to the theories of secularisation common for 20 years; they are perhaps even more devout than their parents, and are certainly more assertive of their faith and its requirements. According to our poll, half of British Muslims pray five times a day every day, while 80% pray at least once a day; even allowing for some religious guilt inflating the figures, the evidence is of a level of religious practice which is higher than any other community in the UK. The poll showed that they want public accommodation of their faith - time to pray where they work and sharia courts in Britain for civil cases (as long as the penalties do not contravene criminal law). They are not showing much sign of conforming to earlier patterns of migration and cultural assimilation, while the "war on terror" is radicalising them into a wide range of political activity - from human rights campaigning to radical jihadism.

In this configuration, Ali's experiences, Parvez's reaction to them, and the overall lack of clear identity is something quite real, authenticating a voice that is noticeably absent from the discourse.  When Britons, and all Westerners, ask themselves why young men of Muslim faith find themselves committed to radical jihadism, the narrative of Ali is a stunning reminder that there is a need to reach out to this particular group of individuals and validate their experience.  The July 7 attacks in London would only serve as testimony to this.