How the British flag became a flashpoint in a new culture war

RUGBY, England—Stuart Field raised his first flags in July: the English red cross of St. George and also a smattering of the British red, white and blue, hanging them from his hometown’s streetlights.

His daughter had just been sent home from her school’s annual cultural celebration day for wearing a sparkly dress designed around the Union Jack. Field was infuriated. A flyer from the school had described the event as a way to recognize the diverse cultures represented among the students. “Wear your traditional cultural dress to school instead of your usual school uniform,” it said. “Your attire must reflect your nationality or family heritage.”

Field’s daughter, 13-year-old Courtney Wright, had prepared a speech about what British culture meant to her, focusing on everything from afternoon tea to the royal family to the British sense of humor. But she never got a chance to deliver it: When she arrived at the school, she was isolated from the other students and then told to go home.

“She is proud of the flag and the U.K.’s history, but she was made to feel she’d done something wrong,” her father said.

The school apologized to the family and held a special British culture day soon after. But the fuse had been lit. Field formed a WhatsApp group to help put up flags here in the heart of the English Midlands. He said he received thousands of messages of support on social media from people in the U.K. and abroad, and described how passersby have clapped, cheered and even wept as they saw him putting up the flags.

“We want to reignite a sense of patriotism in the U.K.,” Field said.

A long-running fringe movement to fly more flags in public spaces has moved to the mainstream of political life here. Towns and cities across England have been draped and spray painted in British flags and the St. George’s Cross, often appearing on streetlights, traffic circles and crosswalks. Even dogs have worn the flag. It is a striking sight in a country traditionally squeamish about flag-flying outside of sporting or royal events.

The campaign has also morphed into a broader statement against a rise in immigration, both legal and illegal, in recent years, and sparked a national debate on what the flags really mean: Whether they are intended to rebuild a tattered sense of community, or serve as warning to both the country’s political leaders and would-be immigrants.

It is a fraught question in Britain, especially after a mass anti-immigration rally that was held in London over the weekend. Some 110,000 to 150,000 people took part, turning the center of the capital into a sea of flags. A series of right-wing speakers took to the stage; Elon Musk called in by video link demanding a change of government in the U.K.

British Prime Minister Keir Starmer later vowed never to surrender the English flag to those he said were using it as “a symbol of violence, fear and division.”

The banners have become the central feature in a deepening culture war in much of Britain, where the upstart anti-immigration Reform U.K. party, led by Nigel Farage, is now leading in the polls ahead of both the ruling Labour and opposition Conservative parties. Surveys show immigration is the top issue among voters, surpassing the economy and healthcare.

Among the groups spreading the flags is Operation Raise the Colours, a campaign backed by Tommy Robinson, the far-right activist who organized the London rally. Many flags began appearing around the country after a wave of anti-immigration protests over the summer, including one outside a hotel housing asylum seekers in Essex, east of London, where a migrant had been charged with sexually assaulting a 14-year-old girl. He was later convicted.

In York, in northern England, Joseph Moulton began a local operation to fly St. George’s flags in August. His efforts followed a discussion with friends who had all come back from travels in Europe, Asia and the U.S., where they noted an abundance of flags. They thought it brought character and community, which they wanted to replicate in their area.

Moulton said that after he put up a few flags, he received an overwhelming show of support on social media and from drivers who would honk their horn as he worked and ask to be involved. He began fundraising to finance the flags and soon had a large group of people helping him buy and distribute them to local villages. Residents across the country have also been displaying flags in their house windows or on their cars.

His group has now hung more than 1,000 flags around York and similar groups have mushroomed around the country, including the Weoley Warriors in Birmingham, which has 2,800 members on its Facebook page and has raised over £22,000 for flags. The Wythall Flaggers in Worcestershire and Flag Force Plymouth also fundraise and organize events to put up flags on weekends. Moulton, 22, has now helped found a national campaign with a live map tracking where flags are going up.

He said he recognized that the flag could be viewed as being divisive, but doesn’t see it that way himself. “National identity and culture has been under attack for the past few years,” he said. “Flying the flag is about reclaiming it.”

Different flags in the U.K. have different connotations. The Union Jack, or, more formally, the Union Flag, is meant to represent England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. It can be controversial among Scottish, Welsh or Irish nationalists, but is often seen as a mild expression of patriotism in much of England. But the English flag—the Cross of St. George—is sometimes associated with soccer hooligans and far-right protests, and has xenophobic connotations for some.

Moulton’s local lawmaker called to remove the flags, whether British or English, saying they were being used by some “to rally those who suppress the rights of others and perpetrate acts of hate.” The local city council estimated it would cost £250,000 to take them down and has removed only a few.

Others suggest the campaign is already emboldening some people to air racist and xenophobic views.

“The flag is an exposure of the British mindset towards foreigners,” said Lucky John, a 35-year-old care-home worker who moved from Nigeria to the U.K. five years ago and now lives in Rugby. “It sends a strong signal, and it’s causing conflict.”

Sharée Stephenson, who lives in Kent, near London, and has Kenyan and Ugandan heritage, said she feels intimidated and frightened by the flags being put up in her area. “I have nothing against people being patriotic,” the 23-year-old restaurant supervisor said. “But the St. George’s flag has extremist ties to it, and it feels like it’s targeted against Black and brown demographics.”

Occasionally, those on both sides of the flag debate confront each other on the streets.

People in Rugby and elsewhere have torn down or burned flags. One man raising a flag in Stevenage was hit by a gasoline bomb. Others have commented “traitors” on social-media posts from people posting pictures of the flags.

Samuel Mansell, a 27-year-old filmmaker, attended a rally in Oxford in August where flag supporters and opponents clashed. “The ones holding the flags are proud to be white British, with an old-fashioned, imperial view of the world. Not the multicultural Britain that I’m proud of,” he said.

Mansell said he believes that raising a flag of any country is symbolic of its history, and Britain’s banner should serve as a reminder of its sometimes difficult colonial history. “They are weaponizing the flag to push an agenda of kicking refugees out of the country,” he said of the flag supporters.

The debate appears to be intensifying. This month a group of about 150 protesters demonstrated in Plymouth against the council’s removal of St. George’s flags. Counterdemonstrators accused the rally of having ties to far-right groups, and police had to separate the two sides.

Birmingham City Council has said it intends to remove “unauthorized attachments” on lamp posts, citing health and safety concerns. It has avoided a mass erasure of the flags to prevent protests but has been accused by locals of double standards for allowing Palestinian flags to fly in the wake of the start of the Israel-Hamas war.

In councils where Reform is gaining influence, such as Warwickshire and Worcestershire, flags aren’t being taken down.

Back in Rugby, attitudes also are hardening.

James Moffat, a 34-year-old resident working in sales, said there shouldn’t be any shame in flying the flag of one’s country, especially after what happened to the school student, Courtney Wright. “It’s the symbol that unites us all, regardless of its historical significance,” he said. “All countries have been right and wrong at times.”

Moffat pointed to how perceptions of the British flag have shifted. “Thirty years ago, when Geri Halliwell of the Spice Girls wore a Union Jack dress, there was no issue, but today a young schoolgirl is being told she can’t wear it,” he said.

Field, the girl’s father, agreed. “This whole controversy is a sign of where the U.K. is right now,” he said.

On Saturday, his daughter Courtney took to the stage at the anti-immigration rally to loud applause and cheers. She was wearing the flag-themed dress that got her sent home from school a few months earlier.