You have reached your maximum number of saved items.
Remove items from your saved list to add more.
You've used all of your gift articles. 3 more will become available on the 1st of every month.
T he 2024 Boxing Day Test against India, and particularly the first day, will always be remembered for what Sam Konstas did that first morning of his debut Test: 60 off 65 balls in an hour and a half. But I’ll always think of it as the time my mum got attacked at a match.
She was walking down the members’ race during play with my brother, when two young white boys aged around 17 or 18 came up behind her from both sides, one screaming into her left ear and the other into her right – all because she was wearing a hijab. My brother only realised when she wasn’t next to him that she was catatonic, unable to move with the two guys still screaming into her ears. Then they ran off. My brother got there and asked my mum if she was OK. But she wasn’t responding, clearly in shock.
A security guard came up and said he saw everything; then he rushed over and grabbed the two boys. He asked what had happened and what they’d said, but she didn’t reply, just tears flowing from her eyes. He tried to console her the best he could.
The boys weren’t saying a thing, but they were obviously worried now. My brother went over to them and said, “Do you know who you just abused? That’s Usman Khawaja’s mum.”
Apparently, their faces dropped even more. I know they were young, but it goes to show that some people just see what they want to see. When they see someone with a hijab, they don’t see “Australian”. They see “terrorist”, “outsider”, “immigrant”, “enemy”. And it’s ingrained in them from a young age.
The security guy took the boys back into a holding room and eventually asked my mum if she wanted to press charges. But, bless her soul, my mum wouldn’t wish harm on anyone, especially young kids. God knows, her own kids have made plenty of their own mistakes, so with love she said, “No, I don’t want to ruin their lives over one small incident. Let them go.” This still makes my heart melt.
I’ve told you a lot of stories about my mum throughout this book. But this last bit encapsulates her the best. She is the most loving person I’ve ever met. Without my dad’s support, I definitely wouldn’t have been a Test cricketer; but equally, without my mum’s loving nature and heart, and the countless times she consoled me when cricket or life wasn’t going well (other than my girlfriends, of course!), I would never have played Test cricket. The game would have broken me long before that.
And my mum will always be that special girl in my life. I know there are a lot of men reading who’ll understand this. Well, at least the mummy’s boys. Which I’ll gladly admit to being.
The next winter, walking out to bat during the second Test in the West Indies, I realised something. My career was over. I was tired. And it wasn’t a physical tired – it was mental.
I also began to realise I had nothing more to prove. I still loved playing, but I only had a little passion left in the tank. The summer’s Ashes would be the perfect finish line.
Knowing this did give me a sense of urgency on a couple of topics in which I’d been heavily invested for a few years now. One was speaking out about racism, and more recently Islamophobia, particularly in Australia. The other was calling out our so-called allies – the US and Israel – about the war crimes and genocide that were taking place in Gaza.
Let’s break it down. Some people in Australia (and it’s been like this for a while) have issues with coloured people, and here – and in many Western countries – that has shifted to “Muslims” and “immigrants”. (And when they say “immigrants”, they mean “coloured” immigrants. I’ve never seen people blow up about white British people migrating here.) We are the new bigot trump card.
Every time an attack on someone is reported in the media in Australia, the first thing that goes through my head is, “Please don’t let the alleged attacker be a Muslim”; the second is, “Please don’t let it be a coloured person”. The media feeds off this, and in turn this feeds hate across Australia.
I know that those who want to divide us have moved away from direct racism (such as labelling people “wogs” or “gooks”, as it was in the past) and started targeting Muslims, subtly and overtly. But don’t be mistaken. This relates to all races and creeds. Because after they’re done with us, they’ll move on to you.
So for my fellow Australians, in particular (but also for other readers around the world), Muslims aren’t that dissimilar to the rest of you. I’ll give you an example. When I try to show Christians in Australia (we are still mostly a Christian country) how close Muslims are to them, I ask:
The reason I end with “Allah” is because I know the stigma that some people attach to that word. I see some idiots screaming “F--- Allah” on the news. But really, they’re only saying, “F--- God,” using pretty much the same name that Jesus would have used to talk about God.
So you see that we Muslims are more like Jesus – and Christians – than you realise. In fact, we love all the biblical prophets, and want to replicate that. The reason I’m talking about this here is because so many people nowadays believe Christianity is such a “white” or “Western” religion. But it’s not.
The plight of the Palestinian people is equally important. Because of the situation in Gaza, I got a meeting in August 2025 with Prime Minister Anthony Albanese. I went to Canberra to push the case for an immediate ceasefire and to call for sanctions on Israel.
Stunningly, the day before the scheduled meeting with the PM, he cancelled on me. I went on the radio and spoke my mind. I didn’t say anything negative about him; only that I believed action needed to be taken by the government, rather than just the strong words – that had zero substance – which I’d hear from our government. But actions are what matter.
Also, I believed we shouldn’t be supporting Israel militarily, such as by providing parts for their F35 fighter-jet battalion, which was bombing innocent kids.
I did get that meeting with the prime minister. I texted my mate Jim Chalmers (a member of the local electorate near me and someone I’ve known for a few years – he’s the treasurer of Australia), mentioning that the PM had snubbed me, and that I thought it was because of the Gaza stuff. Five minutes later, Jim said, “Meet me in the PM’s office.”
I didn’t beat around the bush when I spoke to Anthony Albanese.
To be fair, he has to take into account a lot of communities. But I still thought that, being someone who used to support the Palestinian cause like he did (there are photos), he might have been more receptive.
The PM refused to accept that doing anything to Netanyahu or Israel in terms of sanctions would serve a purpose. I agreed it wouldn’t make a material difference, but I said that wasn’t the point.
It was about making a statement and showing the world where we stood and that we wouldn’t just follow the US unconditionally. Also, that we wouldn’t stand with a war criminal.
Out of respect for my word to the PM, I won’t go into exact details about what we discussed at that meeting. I asked him some hard questions, and it did get heated at one point, but there was a mutual respect and still is.
Once my fighting off the field was over, it was time to switch the focus to on-field matters. The Ashes were about to begin.
This is an edited extract from Sabr by Usman Khawaja , published by Penguin Random House and available from November 10.
