Opposing Sadiq Khan’s knighthood says more about you than him

Let’s be honest — if you’re angry at Sadiq Khan’s knighthood, it’s not just because of his record as Mayor of London.

Honours lists always provoke debate, almost as if designed to divide opinion. The system is flawed — from how recipients are chosen to what the titles signify — but it remains our unique way of acknowledging meaningful contributions to society.

So here’s the son of a bus driver, someone who has faced relentless personal and professional attacks, now being recognised with one of the nation’s highest honours. It should feel like a victory for Khan and for London’s multicultural identity and resilience.

But then came the backlash. A petition, started by a Conservative councillor, amassed over 200,000 signatures, accusing Khan of failure and undeserved recognition. This reflected the deeply polarised landscape where public figures are rarely judged fairly.

Cllr Matthew Goodwin-Freeman, who launched the petition, said: ‘Sadiq Khan’s tenure as Mayor of London has devastated the city we love so much. Our once thriving capital is now divided and stagnant, and all under his watch. We’ve seen Khan continuously deflect responsibility and accountability, blaming everybody but himself.’ 

Goodwin-Freeman claimed Londoners were using this petition to hold Khan to account. 

Yet, Khan has had three consecutive and decisive mayoral wins – most recently in May 2024 with 43.8% of the vote, which equates to over a million people placing a cross next to his name in the ballot. 

Any discussion about Khan, his success and failures, has to be contextualised. 

The London mayor has consistently been a target for Tory opponents, specifically Zac Goldsmith and Susan Hall, who deployed divisive, hateful and racist rhetoric during their failed bids to defeat him.

The former described Khan as ‘radical’, ‘divisive’ and a ‘dangerous experiment’, which Labour argued was an attempt to paint Khan as a radicalised Islamist – something Goldsmith denied. 

And, according to Hope Not Hate, in a since-deleted tweet, Susan Hall retweeted and replied ‘Thank you Katie’ to Katie Hopkins’ post calling Khan ‘the nipple height mayor of Londonistabn’. 

These loaded words and attitudes will no doubt have impacted how Londoners, and Brits as a whole, viewed the mayor. 

Then, when Khan took office in 2016, he inherited a city grappling with housing shortages, air pollution, and strained transport infrastructure, challenges magnified by Brexit, the pandemic, and economic uncertainty.

Given all of this, I think the work he has done is incredibly worthy of a knighthood. 

His Ultra Low Emission Zone (ULEZ) has dramatically improved air quality, reducing more pollution than London’s airports and rail combined produce and undoubtedly saving the lives of young and vulnerable children — a rare and measurable public service success.

What seemed so unpopular and so unachievable, is now a reality under determined leadership.

Meanwhile, public transport fares were frozen, the underground network expanded, and cycling lanes increased.

Rabid critics accuse Khan of failing on knife crime while nodding along to national cuts to public services. Khan has supported community projects to address the crisis, with millions invested. Blaming him alone ignores the broader national responsibility.

Free meals for state school children, introduced by the Liberal Democrats in the Coalition government and promptly swept away by the Tories afterwards, were reintroduced in London by Khan.

Other criticisms, including accusations of performative gestures and speaking out against Donald Trump overlook the importance of symbolism in a global city like London. Khan’s statements against divisive rhetoric have cultural and diplomatic value.

Khan is not perfect, nor is his mayoralty. But compared to the relentless mega-circus of Ken Livingstone and Boris Johnson, Khan’s steady approach has prioritised substance over spectacle.

Like with most of his career, Johnson’s performance masked any tangible achievements — loud and alluring but ultimately shallow in delivery.

So why did 200,000 sign a petition demanding a block to his knighthood? Is it possible that Khan is the least deserving person ever to profit from our flawed system?

Well, given that Paula Vennells was awarded a CBE in 2019 despite her leading role in the Horizon scandal — which resulted in millions of taxpayer money being spent defending the Post Office, devastating hundreds of lives and causing a national disgrace — it seems unlikely.

So, let’s turn to the comments from signatures on the petition: ‘Khan is not for Britain and not for London’ and ‘London is now a gang/crime-ridden, cesspit, multicultural melting pot.’

It doesn’t take a genius to work out that these comments reveal more about ideological bias than his record.

Critiquing from the sidelines is easy. Leading a global city like London is not. 

Khan’s knighthood reflects his resilience and achievements in navigating one of the world’s most challenging political landscapes, and if you’re still angry about it, it’s probably time to admit that your anger has nothing to do with his record as a public servant.

Love it or hate it, our honour system is rooted in the British Empire and everything that comes with that — including its long history of racism and colonialism.

It’s time to ask yourself whether your issue is that this system is now recognising a Muslim leader for his contributions.