The Queen has, down the years, been represented in Oxfordshire by other men with close ties to Eton College, but surely never one quite like Monawar Hussain.

The last time I met Mr Hussain, at the petrol station in Clifton Hampden that he has run for 22 years, he had just made history by becoming the first Muslim Imam to be employed at the famous public school, with the job of counselling Muslim Etonians.

This appointment, five years ago, had instantly transformed the amiable businessman from Cowley into a national figure, whose opinions were being sought by broadcasters and journalists on everything from Islamic extremism to single-sex education.

I pondered how he was going to follow that as I drove off the forecourt, with a notebook crammed with his many hopes for himself and British Muslims, all delivered with an endearing humility and an infectious cheerfulness.

Now I knew. He had just been appointed as a Deputy to Oxfordshire’s Lord Lieutenant Tim Stevenson, and he was relishing the prospect of taking up his new duties, as very probably the first Muslim to have been appointed to the prestigious post.

“What an honour,” said Mr Hussain, a huge grin pushing its way through his neatly trimmed beard. “To have been asked to represent Her Majesty the Queen in Oxford — it’s just amazing. “ It is a fair bet he will be the first also to have attended a comprehensive in Maidenhead.

But class barriers, in fact barriers of any kind, have never unduly concerned Mr Hussain: for he is a man equally at ease discussing theology with bishops in the Three Faiths Forum, or the price of diesel with white van drivers on his station forecourt.

No one who knows him well would have doubted for a second that he would quickly establish himself as a popular figure at Eton, full of groundbreaking ideas. What should not surprise people neither is the fact that he has used the opportunities and contacts that Eton has provided to pursue his own bold teaching mission, which he hopes could ultimately help limit the spread of religious extremism in British schools and cities.

Mr Hussain may be known for his teaching at one of Britain’s most privileged schools, but what is not yet widely appreciated is that he regularly visits a school in one of the toughest areas of Birmingham, in the hope of tearing away the barriers of mistrust that exist between faith communities in the UK.

It would be difficult to imagine an educational establishment more different to Eton than Broadway School in Perry Bar, a large comprehensive serving one of the most disadvantaged areas of Birmingham. Almost all the students are from minority ethnic backgrounds. The majority are of Pakistani origin, with a significant number from Bangladeshi and Indian backgrounds.

The vast majority of the students speak English as an additional language and, of these, about 80 per cent are at an early stage of speaking English. Less than a third attain five or more GCSEs at grade C or above.

But it is here that Mr Hussain believes he can make a difference.

“The wonderful thing about Eton is that it has given me the freedom to do more work and develop my ideas and insights into a broader Islamic teaching curriculum,” he said. “I have met princes, kings, prime ministers and ambassadors.

“But I remember one young man in Perry Bar telling me, ‘this is our world’. And he is right. It is the place where many will live and die, it is the place which will determine their experiences, from which they may never escape.

“I recall coming back from Birmingham after speaking to all these young people and thinking to myself, ‘this is where I need to be’.

“In a way I was once just like one of them. When I was growing up, the war in Bosnia was going on. The extreme people were out even then trying to recruit people. Because of my spiritual heritage that did not have any attraction for me.”

“But many young Muslims growing up in the UK have not been provided with arguments against an extremist violent ideology.”

Mr Hussain argues that an absence of proper education for young Muslims in most UK masajid (mosques) and the lack of chances to discuss their concerns creates a dangerous vacuum.

A lack of positive role models, the rise of gang culture and an inter-generational gulf between parents and pupils combine to further add to their vulnerability.

“My aim is to address these issues through collaboration with local schools and ask young Muslims about what concerns them,” said Mr Hussain. “Space is needed in schools dedicated to issues that matter to them, whether they be questions of identity and belonging, Islamic learning, extremism, gang culture or extremism. It is the power of argument that must win the day.”

With the youngsters he deals head on with such issues as ‘what does Islam say about suicide bombings, and killing civilians?’ or whether it is legitimate for British Muslims to go to fight against British forces in Afghanistan and Iraq.

The central message is that Islam is the religion of equilibrium and deplores extremism.

“It is important to say that as British citizens we enjoy all these freedoms in Great Britain. As a matter of fact we have a greater degree of freedom to practise and participate in the life of this country than many other places in the world. These rights bring with them certain reciprocal duties that we owe towards our country.”

His own spirituality grew from two turning points in his life, the death of his mother and a long illness, linked to severe arthritis, which resulted in him having to spend two years in hospital, after becoming ill at the age of seven.

There are sometimes insults from those who choose to overlook the fact he trained to be an Imam under the great Islamic scholar Shaykh Zaki Badawi at the Muslim College in London.

“I have been accused of being a government spy. People can be malicious,” he says shrugging his shoulders. What is of far more concern to him is his own feeling of isolation, when it comes to getting into schools.

“The problem at the moment is that I am one man who is trying to do so much. There is a lot of funding out there, but it is going to the wrong places.”

Mr Hussain earlier developed a full Muslim Pupils’ Empowerment Programme, which he was able to pilot at Cheney School in Oxford, with the support of Oxford city and Oxfordshire county councils.

“I toured Cheney first to attain a feel for the school and understand the pupil make-up, ethos and culture,” said Mr Hussain. “After meeting the assistant head, Phil Waters, we decided it was essential that no section of the Cheney School community felt targeted.”

More than 1,000 pupils took part in the programme, with many pupils voluntarily attending numerous lunchtime sessions. Issues of extremism were also explored through a play that had been staged professionally in Manchester.

To build on the success Mr Hussain last year created the Oxford Foundation, with an impressive advisory board including Baroness Julia Neuberger, Michael Wilcockson, the head of divinity at Eton, and former Lord Lieutenant of Oxfordshire Sir Hugo Brunner.

Mr Hussain’s long-term hope is that the programme will be developed nationally, with him training teams to go out to schools in the same way he has been doing.

He certainly has a track record of getting things done, as well as getting on with people. He was active in the effort to raise more than £1.2m to build the Central Oxford Mosque, off the Cowley Road, as well as being a prominent figure in the Save Our Schools campaign during the controversial Oxford schools reorganisaion.

So passionate was he about saving single-sex education in Oxford that he contributed £15,000 towards the legal costs of talking the battle all the way to the High Court.

He has five daughters, aged 16, 15, seven, five and three. Little wonder that he has not managed to complete his PhD exploring spiritual orders in the Pakistan town of Murree, on the southern slopes of the Western Himalayan foothills as they ascend towards Kashmir. Interestingly, it is a place that has retained a significant Christian presence, while it is not far from where his family has its roots. One of his uncles had been a professor and hafiz (a Muslim who knows the Koran by heart), while one of his relatives had served in the army.

He is conscious that as a Deputy Lord Lieutenant, a post he will hold to his 75th birthday, he is likely to attend events linked to the military.

“This is not an issue for me,” he said. “The job very much involves recognising the contribution and excellence of the military. They are not politicians. They have a job to do. These young men and women who are at the forefront in Afghanistan. We need to support them and their families.”

It turns out that, unlike the Lord Lieutenant himself, he will not be expected to wear a uniform and don a military sword on formal occasions. But his place in Oxfordshire history is now as secure as his place in Eton’s.

“You know I was looking for one of my children’s birth certificates the other day and I found mine. Guess, where my birth was registered? Eton. I’ve only just found that out,” he said, that smile as broad as ever.

“You see it was destiny,” he laughs, even though you know that for him, like everything in his life, it really does all come down to God’s will.