The British Asian community is the UK’s largest ethnic minority group. Our shared history has its beginnings with the founding of the East India Company in 1600 and spans the arrival of soldiers and lascars in the early 20th century, and migration to fill Britain’s labour shortages in the postwar period.
Alongside other Commonwealth migrants and more recent arrivals, South Asian communities have played a key role in the development of modern Britain. Yet, despite this long and intertwined history, no physical museum or community archive dedicated to British Asian history exists.
In my postgraduate research exploring the need for such a museum, I conducted case studies, interviews and focus groups with British Asians across generations. The response was clear: British Asian history is under-represented and fragmented, and a dedicated museum would make it visible, connected and confidently ours.
Michelle Caswell, an American professor of archival studies, has movingly emphasised how culturally specific museums (museums that focus on culturally or ethnically defined groups) affirm not just “we were here” but “you belong here” for marginalised groups. While initiatives such as the UK South Asian Digital Archive are in development, this belonging has not yet been afforded to British Asian communities.
Existing museums such as the Migration Museum and Manchester Museum do important work to spotlight South Asian stories and show what is possible when power is shared through co-curation with local British Asian voices. Manchester’s South Asia Gallery, for example, foregrounds lived experiences through food and music, and notably tackles difficult histories such as the Partition of India in 1947 and the persecution of the Rohingya people.
Nevertheless, at the Victoria and Albert Museum and elsewhere, South Asian collections are still largely framed through colonial acquisition and “neutral” displays, where objects such as Tippoo’s Tiger are misrepresented. Although presented as a “wooden tiger with an organ inside its body”, Tippoo’s Tiger is an automaton consisting of a tiger mauling a European figure, made as a symbol of resistance to British colonialism.
Advertisement
My survey reflected these silences, with 83% of respondents feeling that British Asian heritage is poorly represented, pointing to a dominance of colonial history and a scarcity of stories connected to living communities. All respondents believed there should be a British Asian museum.
Participants in focus groups spoke of the “gold dust” feeling when they caught a rare glimpse of their history in heritage spaces. They also emphasised the complexity and opportunity posed by British Asian identity, which is, of course, diverse and contested. But this points to why a British Asian museum is needed: not to essentialise identity, but as a space for sharing nuanced, intersectional stories.
Ultimately, a British Asian museum would act as a dynamic knowledge base for oral histories, community archives and local collections to stitch together the patchwork of British Asian experiences. It would be uniquely placed to offer genuine decolonial practice with community-led governance and redistribution of authority. And it would centre intersectional, hybrid narratives: queer British Asian stories, localities such as Southall or Bradford, second- and third-generation identities, or the overlooked histories of British Asian women.
Funding and contested definitions of “British Asian” would naturally pose challenges, but every identity label is contested. As demonstrated by the Black Cultural Archives in London and the Manchester Jewish Museum, culturally specific museums act as a space to explore such complexities.
A museum would not completely fix the under-representation and structural inequality within the heritage sector, but it would provide a powerful opportunity for British Asian heritage to be made, heard and seen. It would create a confident space of our own, where we can speak for ourselves and show we belong here. After all, the history of British Asians is the history of Britain.
Yasmin Kumari Gledhill is the engagement manager (London and South) at the National Lottery Heritage Fund