Paper short abstract:

As a racialised Muslim, my ethnographic fieldwork of counter-terrorism in the NHS was laced with anxiety. How do my experiences inform the ethnographic process and the field itself? I explore the benefits of auto-ethnography to give voice to expressions of resistance which may otherwise go untold.

Paper long abstract:

Under PREVENT, the UK now designates healthcare settings as 'pre-criminal spaces'. NHS staff must now report individuals they suspect may be vulnerable to radicalisation. "I stay away from politically-sensitive topics," a Muslim health professional said, when I questioned what he thought about this development, before we parted ways. Another Muslim health professional paced the entrance of a cafe, struggling to overcome his trepidation of speaking with me. Little had I known the political sensitivity of my research subject - counter-terrorism in the NHS - before I began my ethnographic fieldwork in London. It did not take long to understand why. Soon, I too, a racialised Muslim, experienced fear: fear of speaking out against the War on Terror, fear of writing words I may regret. My fieldwork is laced with experiences and narratives of treading that fine line between health and politics. But are these divided? How do my experiences inform the ethnographic process and indeed the field itself? These are some of the questions that will be addressed when discussing healthcare as an apolitical and amoral space. This paper does not 're-politicise' ethnography but discusses its erasure and my anxiety in making the political visible again; the limitations of my own willingness to push moral boundaries. As an activist against the silencing of dissent, the purpose of this submission is to provide auto-ethnographic observations on the challenges of researching controversial policies, and I explore the benefits of ethnography to unearth unique expressions of resistance which may otherwise go untold.