A century ago, a white-domed building rose quietly in south London suburbia, financed in part by women who sold their jewelry for a place they might never see completed. The Fazl Mosque in Wandsworth — London's first — marks its hundredth year not merely as a house of worship, but as a living argument that a community's truest monument is the care it extends beyond its own walls. From sheltering Londoners during the Blitz to shaping the speech that helped birth a nation, the mosque's century is a reminder that the most enduring institutions are those that hold their doors open widest.
London's Fazl Mosque marks 100 years as 'beacon of peace' amid interfaith harmony
Our message is quite timeless. It has no expiry date.
Mark
So a mosque in south London has been there for a hundred years—why does that matter now, in 2026?
Mimi
Because it's the oldest mosque in London, and it's been woven into the neighborhood in ways that go beyond religion. It's hosted air raid shelters, blood drives, vaccinations. The community gives out food at Eid, sends Christmas cards to neighbors.
Luke
But is that unusual? Many religious institutions do community work. What makes this story specific to this mosque, this moment?
Mimi
The centenary itself is the peg. But there's also the historical weight—an imam here convinced Muhammad Ali Jinnah to return to India and shape partition. That's a real historical pivot point.
Mark
So this is a building where something genuinely consequential happened, not just a nice community center that happens to be a mosque.
Mimi
Exactly. And the founders—many of them women from India who sold their jewelry to buy the land, knowing they'd never see it finished. That's a specific kind of sacrifice.
Luke
Do we know how many women, or is that a general statement from the source?
Mimi
The source says "many of them women" but doesn't give a number. It's a detail that's been preserved in the community's memory, but not quantified.
Mark
And the low-level harassment Rafiq mentions—cars honking aggressively—is that something that's been documented, or is it anecdotal?
Luke
It sounds anecdotal. He says there's been an increase, but there's no data attached. It's a real experience, but we should be careful not to overstate it as a trend.
Mimi
Fair. But he also says they haven't experienced a lot of serious Islamophobia, which is worth noting. The harassment is real but contained.
Mark
So the story is: a hundred-year-old institution that's been genuinely useful to its neighborhood, with deep historical roots, now facing a different kind of pressure than it did before.
Mimi
And choosing to mark the centenary by feeding 10,000 homeless people. That's their answer to the moment.
El Pulso
- A century of quiet presence is now being celebrated loudly: the mosque that once opened with a silver key and 600 eminent guests is marking its centenary with 10,000 free meals for homeless people.
- Beneath the celebration runs a current of vigilance — low-level harassment has grown, with cars honking aggressively past the mosque, testing the community's founding creed of 'love for all, hatred for none.'
- The mosque's history carries geopolitical weight few buildings can claim: its 1930s imam persuaded a disillusioned Muhammad Ali Jinnah to return to India, a conversation whose ripple became the founding of Pakistan.
- Where serious Islamophobia has largely been kept at bay, the community responds not with retreat but with deeper engagement — blood drives, vaccination clinics, Eid sweets for neighborhood children, and Christmas greetings to nearby residents.
- A congregation that once drove to a kosher deli in Aldgate for halal-compatible meat and served scones with clotted cream to Viscountess Allenby now looks ahead with the same unhurried confidence: 'Our message has no expiry date.'
A century ago, a white-domed building rose quietly in south London suburbia, financed in part by women who sold their jewelry for a place they might never see completed. The Fazl Mosque in Wandsworth — London's first — marks its hundredth year not merely as a house of worship, but as a living argument that a community's truest monument is the care it extends beyond its own walls. From sheltering Londoners during the Blitz to shaping the speech that helped birth a nation, the mosque's century is a reminder that the most enduring institutions are those that hold their doors open widest.
A century ago, Guardian reporters arrived in south London to find something unexpected: a pristine white building with a green dome, immaculate flower gardens, and large black doors opened with a silver key. About 600 guests attended. The journalists called it 'a thing of beauty.' This week, the Fazl Mosque in Wandsworth marks that centenary — and the celebrations reveal how completely a building designed for one faith community has grown into the life of a much larger neighbourhood.
The mosque has changed little since 1926. Historic England listed it in 2018. Its origins lie with Ahmadi Muslims from India, many of them women who sold their jewelry to finance the land, knowing they would likely never see the finished building. That spirit of sacrifice shaped the community's outward-facing ethos: members distribute sweets at Eid, send Christmas greetings to neighbours, join local environmental cleanups, and stand publicly with other faiths under pressure. During the Second World War, the mosque opened as an air raid shelter. In recent decades it has hosted blood donation drives and Covid-19 vaccination clinics. To mark the centenary, the community will distribute 10,000 free meals to homeless people.
The mosque's history also touches a turning point in world politics. In the 1930s, its imam Abdur Rahim Dard persuaded Muhammad Ali Jinnah — a barrister living in Hampstead who had grown disillusioned and was considering remaining in Britain — to return to India. Jinnah delivered a keynote address in the mosque's gardens, went back the following year, and became governor general of Pakistan when it gained independence in 1947. Longtime member Munir Dean, whose grandfather and father both shaped the mosque's early years, remembers Jinnah as 'a very English gentleman' in the finest Savile Row suits.
In those early years, with no halal butchers in London, the congregation made weekly trips to a famous kosher restaurant in Aldgate East, since the slaughtering methods are identical. High-society visitors were received with fine china and scones with clotted cream. One early muezzin had grown up on the same street as the Lancashire entertainer Gracie Fields before converting to Islam after serving in the Middle East.
The mosque's current leader frames the centenary as a reflection of its founding principles: serving neighbours, showing loyalty to Britain, making peace across faiths. Dean, looking ahead, is untroubled. 'Our message is quite timeless,' he said. 'It has no expiry date. Bring on the next hundred years.'
A century ago, The Guardian sent reporters to cover the opening of London's first mosque. They found an incongruous sight in the heart of south London suburbia: a pristine white building ringed by immaculate flower gardens, its large black doors opened ceremonially with a silver key. About 600 eminent guests attended. The journalists called it "a thing of beauty." This week, the Fazl Mosque in Wandsworth marks that centenary with celebrations that reveal how thoroughly a building designed to serve one faith community has woven itself into the fabric of a much larger neighborhood.
The mosque, also known as London Mosque, sits in the Southfields area and has changed little since its opening in 1926. Its slim vertical windows, green dome, and white exterior remain largely as they were. Historic England granted it listed status in 2018. The building's origins trace to a group of Ahmadi Muslims from Qadian in India—many of them women who sold their jewelry to finance the land purchase, knowing they would likely never see the finished structure themselves. The Ahmadiyya Muslim Community, which operates the mosque, has made interfaith engagement central to its work. Members distribute sweets to local children at Eid, send Christmas greetings to neighbors, participate in local environmental cleanups, and publicly support other faiths when they face attacks. Putney Labour MP Fleur Anderson, visiting ahead of the centenary, noted that "no street party is complete without the wonderful food provided by this mosque."
During the Second World War, the mosque served as an air raid shelter. In more recent decades, it has hosted blood donation drives and Covid-19 vaccination clinics. Mahmood Rafiq of the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community UK describes this multipurpose role as central to the mosque's ethos. The community's guiding principle is "love for all, hatred for none"—a message Rafiq says feels particularly urgent now. While the mosque has largely avoided serious Islamophobia, he acknowledges a rise in low-level harassment: cars driving past and honking aggressively. To mark the centenary, the community plans to distribute 10,000 free meals to homeless people.
The mosque's history intersects with a pivotal moment in world politics. In the 1930s, the imam was Abdur Rahim Dard, a figure who played a significant role in events leading to India's partition. Muhammad Ali Jinnah, an Indian politician and barrister trained at Lincoln's Inn Fields in London, was living in Hampstead at the time. He had been advocating for Muslim rights in India but had grown disillusioned and was considering staying in Britain to continue practicing law. Dard convinced him otherwise. Jinnah delivered a keynote speech in the mosque's gardens—a moment that proved to be a turning point in India's future. He returned to India the following year and became governor general of Pakistan when it gained independence in August 1947. Munir Dean, 65, a longtime mosque member whose grandfather and father both played key roles in its development, describes Jinnah as "a very English gentleman" who wore the finest Savile Row suits.
In the mosque's early years, when London's Muslim population was far smaller, there were no halal butchers. Members would pile into cars for weekly trips to Blooms, the famous kosher salt beef restaurant in Aldgate East, since kosher meat is accepted as halal due to identical slaughtering methods. The mosque entertained visitors from high society—Viscount and Viscountess Allenby among them—and served tea from fine china cups. "Visitors to the mosque were much more likely to be served scones with clotted cream than samosas," Dean recalls. One early muezzin, Bilal Nuttall, had grown up on the same street as the Lancashire entertainer Gracie Fields before converting to Islam after serving in the Middle East during the First World War.
Mirza Masroor Ahmad, the current and fifth leader of the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community, frames the mosque's centenary as a reflection of its founding principles: serving neighbors, showing loyalty to Britain, and making peace across faiths and backgrounds. "As we mark this centenary, I pray that the mosque may continue to be a beacon of peace and a means of bringing people together for generations to come," he said. Dean, looking forward, is untroubled by the passage of time. "Our message is quite timeless," he said. "It has no expiry date. Bring on the next hundred years."
Citas Notables
No street party is complete without the wonderful food provided by this mosque.— Fleur Anderson, Putney Labour MP
As we mark this centenary, I pray that the mosque may continue to be a beacon of peace and a means of bringing people together for generations to come.— Mirza Masroor Ahmad, current leader of the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community
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