When the Only Hindu Temple Is Put Up for Sale: The Peterborough Case and the Question of Institutional Fairness

By Vinay Nalwa 

The Temple Built by Refugees

There is a quiet irony unfolding in the English city of Peterborough. It does not begin with a courtroom or a council meeting. It begins more than five decades ago, in East Africa.

In 1972, Ugandan dictator Idi Amin ordered the expulsion of tens of thousands of Asians, majority were Hindus of Indian origin. Families who had lived in Uganda for generations were given only days to abandon their homes, businesses and places of worship. Britain became a refuge for nearly 28,000 expelled Ugandan Asians. Peterborough City Council was among the first local authorities to welcome around thirty refugee families, establishing a dedicated team to help them with housing, employment and resettlement. Most of these families were Hindus arriving from Uganda Resettlement Camps across the region.

Resettlement, however, was far from easy. Many arrived with little more than the clothes they wore. Professionals accepted low-paying jobs, families rebuilt their lives from scratch, and many experienced discrimination in housing and employment while carrying the emotional scars of forced exile.

Bharat Hindu Samaj (BHS) Mandir in UK

Yet they persevered.

Like countless refugee communities before them, they found work, educated their children, contributed to British society and slowly recreated the institutions that had given them strength. Among those institutions was the Bharat Hindu Samaj (BHS) Mandir, established in 1986 at the New England Complex. The temple became far more than a place of worship. It became a cultural home where Gujarati and Hindi were taught, festivals celebrated, children gathered after school, senior citizens met regularly, health programmes were organised and charitable meals were served to those in need.

For nearly four decades, the temple quietly served the Hindu community across Cambridgeshire, Norfolk, Lincolnshire, Peterborough and Leicestershire. Today it remains the only Hindu temple within a 35-mile radius, serving nearly 14,000 Hindus. For families who had once lost everything in Uganda, this was never merely a building. It represented the restoration of dignity, identity and belonging through faith and community. (Sources: Bharat Hindu Samaj; The Telegraph; Firstpost Explainer, 15 July 2026).

Then came a development that few in the community had imagined possible.

In 2025, Peterborough City Council decided to sell the former school building at the New England Complex as part of its strategy to reduce debts approaching £500 million. Viewed in isolation, it appeared to be a financial decision. For the Hindu community, however, it carried far deeper consequences.

The decision came as a shock to a community that had spent decades not only building the temple but also nurturing the hope that it would one day secure permanent ownership of the site.

The successful bidder was Khadijah Mosque, part of the United Kingdom Islamic Mission (UKIM), which has proposed converting the site into a larger Islamic "Unity Centre" comprising prayer halls, classrooms, sports facilities and community spaces. According to reports, Khadijah Mosque is one of at least nine mosques in Peterborough, while Bharat Hindu Samaj remains the only Hindu temple serving the wider region. 

Peterborough has around 40 churches and 10 mosques, but only one Hindu temple within 35 miles. 

The issue before the High Court is not whether the Islamic organisation had the right to submit a bid. Nor is it a dispute between two faith communities. The legal challenge concerns whether Peterborough City Council lawfully discharged its obligations, including its duties under the Equality Act 2010, when deciding to sell the only Hindu temple serving thousands of worshippers.

The irony is difficult to ignore. A temple founded by refugees who rebuilt their lives after expulsion from Uganda now finds itself fighting, not against persecution or violence, but for the survival of the very institution that symbolised their successful integration into Britain.

Bharat Hindu Samaj (BHS) Mandir in UK

A Question of Process, Not Simply Outcome

The concern expressed by Britain's Hindu community is rooted not merely in the outcome but in the manner in which the decision unfolded.

For years, Bharat Hindu Samaj had remained in dialogue with Peterborough City Council regarding the purchase of the property. 

The community have been fundraising for a number of years to buy the site outright and had been in negotiations with the council since 2011.

Acting upon those discussions, the trustees believed they had been given a fair opportunity to acquire the premises that had served as their spiritual and cultural home for almost forty years. They submitted their £1.3 million offer in good faith.

Then the process appeared to change.

After months without communication, they were informed that the property would instead be sold through a "best and final offer" process. The eventual purchaser was UKIM.

It is this sequence of events that has generated profound unease among British Hindus. If an open-market sale was always the intended course, why were years of negotiations encouraged? If preserving a long-established minority faith institution was ever part of the council's considerations, at what stage did that objective give way to a purely commercial exercise?

These are not simply legal questions. They concern transparency, consistency and the relationship of trust between public authorities and minority faith communities.

The Hindu community's concern has been reinforced by what followed. Trustees secured a High Court injunction preventing the immediate completion of the sale and, within days, supporters raised more than £119,000 through a public crowdfunding campaign in an effort to continue the legal battle. Rather than quietly accepting the decision, the community demonstrated both its commitment to the temple and its belief that the process deserved judicial scrutiny. 

What Does Equality Require?

During the High Court proceedings, counsel for Peterborough City Council argued that the sale resulted from a transparent, fair and lawful bidding process. The temple's legal team disagreed, arguing that significant flaws existed in the council's reasoning and that no realistic alternative premises had been identified for Bharat Hindu Samaj.

An important contrast emerged during the hearing. Counsel for the temple submitted that Bharat Hindu Samaj had no alternative premises, whereas UKIM forms part of a national organisation operating approximately 40 centres and 60 branches across the United Kingdom. The comparison does not diminish the legitimate needs of the Muslim community. It does, however, raise an obvious question: was adequate weight given to the consequences of displacing the region's only Hindu temple?

Council leader Shabina Qayyum acknowledged that the proposed sale had caused "great anxiety and upset" within the Hindu community and stated that they would not be left without a home. Temple trustees dispute that assurance, maintaining that no viable alternative premises have been identified. One elderly devotee expressed the emotional impact of the dispute in deeply personal terms: "With the council taking this step, it feels like we're being expelled again." For a community whose collective memory begins with forced exile from Uganda, such words carry profound historical significance. (Sources: Firstpost Explainer; The Telegraph; BBC).

The question, therefore, is larger than one property transaction. Should equality mean applying identical commercial procedures to every building, or should it also require public authorities to recognise the unique role that minority faith institutions play within their communities?

Beyond Peterborough

Peterborough is not the only recent case to have unsettled Britain's Hindu community.

Earlier, in Northstowe, Cambridgeshire, a proposal by Hindu Samaj Northstowe to establish the town's first Hindu temple and community centre was unsuccessful after the local council awarded a 999-year lease on designated faith land to the Northstowe Church Network, whose proposal included facilities for the local Muslim community. Although the circumstances differed, many British Hindus viewed the outcome as another missed opportunity to recognise the needs of a growing Hindu population.

Viewed individually, each case may be explained on its own facts. Viewed together, they prompt a broader conversation about institutional sensitivity.

That conversation becomes more significant when placed against the wider religious landscape. The United Kingdom is estimated to have approximately 160–190 Hindu temples, compared with around 1,850–2,150 mosques and Islamic prayer facilities. According to the 2021 Census, Britain is home to approximately 1.03 million Hindus and 3.9 million Muslims. Differences in religious practice and the classification of places of worship undoubtedly influence these figures, but they nevertheless provide important context when discussing equitable access to religious infrastructure.

Ultimately, the Peterborough case challenges the very depth of British multiculturalism. A house of worship built by an exiled community is never just real estate. It is a repository of language, memory, and successful post-colonial integration. If public institutions reduce these spaces to simple instruments for debt mitigation, they risk unravelling the very fabric of trust that allowed a displaced diaspora to call Britain home.

The High Court will decide whether Peterborough City Council acted lawfully. History, however, may ask a different question: whether Britain, a nation that once welcomed Hindu refugees fleeing persecution, has developed institutional mechanisms capable of recognising and protecting the enduring value of the institutions those refugees built.

(The writer is an author and columnist)