Flying the Flag

What on earth is going on?

You’d have to have hidden under a rock not to notice the sudden exponential increase in the St George’s Cross being hoisted in England. Is it the rugby, you might muse. No. This is not just a quirky fad, but part of a coordinated, politicised movement with far-right roots.

In the past few weeks, local forums and Facebook groups have been awash with people declaring they will not be prevented from flying the English flag. They have taken to the streets, hanging flags from what local councils are calling ‘public furniture’ (lampposts) and spray painting mini roundabouts and traffic bollards with red crosses. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been overcome with patriotism since I’ve seen them.

I lie. I’m utterly convinced this is bonkers behaviour.

Let’s talk about flags, shall we? The earliest inceptions of flags seem to stem from militaristic standards in China and Egypt, then later in Rome. Flags were attached to factions in medieval societies. Flags denoted sides and marked out, through heraldry, who belonged to whom. National flags as we know them may have stemmed from the need for maritime security - your ship identified your nation and afforded it protection. But then, with the rise of the nation state, flags began to take on a new meaning. It’s not surprising that it coincided with the age of revolution. People began to mark themselves out as groups - and in turn, marked out those who were not in their groups.

The St George’s Cross has an interesting history. Those brave folks arguing that the sea of flags in the street might be intimidating often argue that St George was not English, which is true, but not helpful as they are mostly ignored by those ‘taking are [sic] country back’. It would be enlightening perhaps to argue that flags have troublesome histories and carry all sorts of connotations - like the fact that the red cross on a white background was originally used during the Crusades, representing the Christian contingent. The English flag originating in religious warfare is significant. I would argue that some of the flag wavers would very much enjoy that fact, seeing as for some, the flag is about marking territory against perceived ‘invaders’.

Fast forward to today, and the flag has once again become a rallying cry - not of unity, but of exclusion. The flag flying is not a spontaneous grassroots surge. Operation Raise the Colours, as it is named, has spread beyond Birmingham to cities such as York, Bradford, Swindon, Newcastle, and more—raising over £13,000 and receiving hundreds of donated flags.

The ‘I’m not racist, I just think we should be proud of our heritage’ crowd might not know that Operation Raise the Colours is organised by the far-right, consisting of a motley crew of well known figures. Hope Not Hate tells us:

“Hope not Hate can reveal that the co-founder and organiser of the group is longtime Stephen Lennon (AKA Tommy Robinson) ally Andrew Currien (AKA Andy Saxon). Formerly a key member of the English Defence League’s leadership bodyguard team, and now running security for the far-right party Britain First, Currien has previously been jailed for his part in a racist death. He was one of six men convicted in 2009 after a 59-year-old man was crushed to death by a car following a violent brawl.”

These facts, alongside the fact that Paul Golding of Britain First is also involved, tell us that raising the flag is part of an organised klaxon for those who believe that England is being invaded, being infiltrated by Islam and so on. I keep hearing that we are being invaded by young men ‘of fighting age’. Within that statement is a belief that we are at war. Raising the flag in this context takes us right back to the Crusades.

While there have been efforts to disrupt Operation Raise the Colours, attempts are few and far between. It seems as if those of us without a flag simply cannot be bothered to argue with people who think that their problems, their discontent, will be solved by hanging the English flag on their street. And people have tried making reasoned statements, but it all falls on deaf ears.

What do I feel when I see St George fluttering in windows and in the wind? I am the daughter of East African Asian immigrants in the 1970s. I have listened to the stories of my family being confronted by the National Front when they arrived in Leicester. There is inherent threat in seeing flags go up for anything other than sporting reasons.

Honestly, I feel discouraged and helpless. Some people are so convinced that the way they will have any power is to wield what little power they have against immigrants, legal or illegal. I wonder if those raising the flag in their streets and houses, spray painting the streets would see me as English if I didn't drape myself in red and white. I wonder if they are racist. It’s always there.

I have never walked through my town and wondered if I am welcome. But now, I can’t help feeling that I am not. The idea of us vs them didn’t really come to mind, but it does now, thanks to the flags.

I don’t object to the English flag. I object to those who fly it because they feel that immigration has got out of hand. I object to those who use it to intimidate refugees at hotels. I object to it being weaponised, instead of being used to celebrate what brings us together. I also resent the fact that councils will have to use taxpayers money to clean the red paint off the streets.

To me, if the St George’s Cross is to mean pride, not menace, we must challenge those who weaponise it.

I could go on. Chances are if you are reading this, you’re probably already on board, but I would love to hear your thoughts.