On Wednesday Nadiya Jamir Hussain was crowned winner of The Great British Bake Off, a television show so steeped in traditional British values it could have been made in the Fifties

On Wednesday night, a tiny Muslim woman of Bangladeshi origin was crowned winner of The Great British Bake Off, a television show so steeped in traditional British values it could have been made in the Fifties.

Nadiya Jamir Hussain imbued every one of those values when she accepted the accolade with the modesty, politeness and self-deprecation we have grown to love in the past ten weeks.

Judge and national treasure Mary Berry thought the 30-year-old mother-of-three’s creations were ‘stunning... sheer perfection’.

Listening to Berry enthuse about her talent, Nadiya covered her sweet, expressive face with her hands in a vain attempt to mask the giant tears streaming down her cheeks.

I cried, too, like so many of the millions of viewers who tuned into the finale of the BBC cookery show.

Tears pricked the steely eyes of the unflappable Mary Berry, whose voice faltered as she sang Nadiya’s praises.

And even Paul Hollywood, the bad cop to Berry’s motherly good one, seemed unusually moved.

In her moment of victory, as throughout the series, Nadiya accepted her award with her customary black scarf — covering her hair, chin and neck — pinned tightly to her head.

Earlier in the competition, she’d confided her fears that viewers would dismiss her as ‘a Muslim in a headscarf’.

With the dignified determination that endeared her to us all, she added: ‘Just because I’m not a stereotypical British person, it doesn’t mean I am not into bunting, cake and tea. I’m as British as anyone else.’

Judge and national treasure Mary Berry (pictured right) thought the 30-year-old mother-of-three’s creations were ‘stunning... sheer perfection’

As a liberal Muslim woman myself, I admit that I was also initially put off by Nadiya’s headscarf and severe look.

Yet by winning the show with such grace, humour and dignity, Nadiya has done more to further the cause of Asian women — and men — than countless government policies, think-tanks, initiatives and councils put together have achieved in the past half-century.

This couldn’t be more timely because intolerance and suspicion of Muslims is rising as British-born Jihadis plot atrocities against the country they call home.

But prejudice was helpless before Nadiya’s charm and talent.

Bubbly, witty, intelligent, determined and modest, she’s become an accidental heroine.

Of course, we have many other Muslim role models — Mo Farah, Olympic gold medallist, Moeen Ali, the England cricketer, Mishal Hussain, presenter on BBC Radio 4’s Today programme, Rageh Omaar, TV reporter, Sajid Javid, the Business Secretary, and Baroness Sayeeda Warsi.

By winning the show with such grace, humour and dignity, Nadiya has done more to further the cause of Asian women — and men — than countless government policies and councils put together

But it is Nadiya, baker of beautiful cakes, who has, in my view, turned the image of British Muslims upon its head.

Born in Luton, the daughter of a hard-working Bangladeshi couple who moved to England in the Seventies to escape poverty in their homeland, she grew up in a terrace house with two brothers and three sisters.

Her father Jamir Ali was a waiter in a Bangladeshi restaurant and Nadiya was puzzled by the ice cream desserts the restaurant served to the British customers who demanded something sweet at the end of a meal.

‘We don’t really have desserts in our culture,’ she has said, and it was not until she began year ten at Challney High School in Luton that Nadiya began to bake.

Under the tutelage of Jean Marshall, who was providing maternity cover for the Home Economics teacher, Nadiya realised she had a gift for baking.

‘Mrs Marshall used to push me out the door when the bell rang because I was that reluctant to leave.’

Luckily for us, Nadiya has a devoted husband, Abdal Hussain, by her side, and in showcasing their bond she has also done much to promote the image of Muslim men often seen as dictatorial towards their womenfolk

After sixth form college she was introduced to Abdal Hussain, a handsome computer science graduate from Coventry University.

Just two years later, aged 20, the pair married and moved into his parents’ home in Leeds.

Three children followed — two sons and a daughter — now aged nine, eight and four. In time the young couple bought a home of their own and Abdal got a job as a technical manager for a computer company.

Meanwhile, Nadiya expressed her talent by baking for her growing family.

Today her adopted hometown of Leeds is bursting with pride. It was ten years ago this July — the same year Nadiya and Abdal wed — that four bombers attacked London; three of them were raised in or near Leeds.

Muslims who are burning with anger or, at the least, disillusioned with life in Britain should learn from Nadiya. I know I have

Muslims who are burning with anger or, at the least, disillusioned with life in Britain should learn from Nadiya. I know I have.

Like any young Asian woman growing up in Britain in the Nineties, she must have had her moments of rejection and hostility and developed ways to cope and to grow, by enjoying the many freedoms this country affords.

For Nadiya, this freedom came through the medium of baking — a talent that showcases not only her skill and creativity but her emotional honesty.

Even the flinty Paul Hollywood was drawn to it — and melted before it.

And watching her, I realised that you can fight discrimination and exclusion in many ways. Sometimes by forcibly opposing it; at other times by sweetly disabling it and making people laugh.

The power of the latter should not be underestimated.

Some hardline Muslims will have been incensed by this Bake Off.

To them, this is an example of cultural sin: a Muslim woman in the company of men and non-Muslim women, laughing ‘too much’, shaking hands, kissing and embracing her fellow competitors — including runner-up Tamal, who happens to be gay.

I saw some exchanges online that were full of acrimony, sanctimony and rage.

Nadiya’s smile, someone said, ‘should be behind a niqab’ (face veil) while others thought she was too free and lacked subservience.

One unelected ‘community leader’ told me he was ‘insulted’ when Nadiya joked that making a soufflé was harder than giving birth.

‘These parents and husband letting her do this. Are they really Muslim? If she was my daughter, I would slap her and lock her up. What is she teaching her children?’

Luckily for us, Nadiya has a devoted husband by her side, and in showcasing their bond she has also done much to promote the image of Muslim men often seen as dictatorial towards their womenfolk.

Nadiya’s triumph reveals what is possible, even in these divided times, and shows that the best of Britishness shines through when we see one another as fellow humans, not divided by race or gender

‘I am the proudest husband on the planet tonight’, Abdal tweeted when his wife won star baker in one of the earlier episodes.

In order for her to practise her Bake Off creations at home ahead of each show, Abdal helped in the house — in a way that would be unimaginable for Muslim men of older generations.

Abdal proudly took the couple’s three children to school, cooked them tea and read to them in order to give his wife the time she needed to perfect her craft.

And could there have been any greater indication of their devotion than the showstopper wedding cake with which Nadiya wowed the judges in the final?

The couple, Nadiya explained, married in Bangladesh where sweetmeats are served at weddings, not cake.

Nadiya told judges that her lemon drizzle creation was the delicacy she wished she could have had on her own wedding day.

Lovingly decorated with hand-made edible flowers, pieces of her own wedding jewellery and material from her sari, the end result was a red, white and blue image of perfection. But it was also a very personal love token from a wife to her husband.

Muslim men are, unfairly in my view, often presumed to be sexist brutes. Many, in truth, are warm, romantic, faithful husbands and great fathers.

Early in the competition, she’d confided her fears that viewers would dismiss her as ‘a Muslim in a headscarf’

I once wrote about good Muslim men, among them some uncles and cousins who treasured their wives and encouraged them in their education and ambitions.

Afterwards Sadiq Khan, Labour candidate for the London Mayoral election, wrote and thanked me for my article.

He said it was a relief to read something that affirmed and recognised Muslim males who live as equals with their partners, in his case, Saadiya, who is, like him, a lawyer.

Similarly, it is a sad fact that Muslim parents are too often at the centre of stories about honour killings.

How glorious it was, then, to see Nadiya’s family so deliriously happy at the show’s celebratory tea party.

For Nadiya’s triumph reveals what is possible, even in these divided times, and shows that the best of Britishness shines through when we see one another as fellow humans, not divided by race or gender.

The Tory Party Conference has just ended, and with it the conference season.

I hope that politicians will also learn from Nadiya’s example and accept that integration and a sense of belonging come about through natural respect, shared interests and a sense of ease.

For the reason so many of us migrants love living in Britain is down to its ever changing culture and ever welcoming people. We do not view Nadiya as an unwanted foreigner, but as a child of these isles.

As for Nadiya’s future, she’ll resume her life as a wife and mother but says that she will never again impose the limits of those roles on herself.

Her early self-doubt in the series, she says, is banished for good. She has learned not only that she is a talented, powerful woman but also that this country has a place in its heart for people like her.

We all owe Nadiya a debt of gratitude, not just for entertaining us with her pastries and sponges, but for teaching us what it is to be British in 2015.