An Elephant in the Tube: How the 'Unite the Kingdom' Rally Affects Britain
01/10/25
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MATERIAL LEFT BY THE 'UNITE THE KINGDOM' RALLY, IMAGE: DOYLE OF LONDON
Over 110,000 people were drawn to London last weekend for a “freedom of speech festival” led by one of the founders of the English Defence League, Stephen Yaxley Lennon. The march that filled the capital with “a sea of Union and St. George’s flags” dominated headlines and surprised many, as it proved to be one of the largest right-wing gatherings in British history. Its size was undoubtedly alarming, albeit not nearly as impressive as the 3-million figure that Lennon, better known as Tommy Robinson, put on the event.
I happened to be down in London that weekend, and I made a point of going along to see what the march looked like up close. By mid-afternoon, I did not know where the march was, and ultimately I found it through a kind of sonar, following the sirens and chants down to Trafalgar Square. There, on the steps of Nelson’s Column, a large group of exclusively male protestors swung in rhythm to ‘Keir Starmer’s a w*nker’ and ‘I Want to Break Free’, sung originally by the Tanzanian-born Freddie Mercury.
Tommy Robinson described it as the “biggest freedom of speech” rally in history, and, although he’s incorrect about the numbers, it’s true to say it was another noisy exercise in free speech by the far-right. Marching through the nation’s capital and calling the Prime Minister a “w*nker” is not exactly something you could do in North Korea, whatever Nigel Farage believes. Alongside freedom of speech, however, it was also an exercise in getting drunk, chasing women of colour down the street, and yelling sexist chants, while simultaneously proclaiming that the purpose of your being there is to ‘protect women’. Excluding the violence, which left 26 police officers with injuries, these are just some examples of the behaviour on show at the rally.
There are also many far more serious consequences of such a gathering, beyond the behaviour of those who attended. Firstly, like the similarly named ‘Unite the Right’ rally in Charlottesville, it is very concerning to see an emboldened far-right. In Charlottesville, the right was largely shouted down, and after violence directly spilled out, with the killing of counter-protester Heather Heyer, the far-right quickly scuttled back to the safety of their online domains. In London, however, only 5,000 counter-protestors turned out, and by the time I arrived, they had all gone home. Unlike those in Charlottesville, this victory for Robinson’s marchers means that future events “will only get bigger” and bolder in both their scope and ambition.
THE UNION JACK, IMAGE: MICHAEL STARKIE
Another element of concern, and one which I saw first-hand, is networking. Those who attended the rally, many of whom may not have felt emboldened enough to attend in the past, made connections. They shared details, joined social media groups, and promised to “see each other in the future”. On my train journey home, I witnessed firsthand as this network assembled. Spreading across the country, and at every stop just north of the capital, I witnessed young men, draped in St. George’s crosses, stating their new friendships and agreeing to meet again. “We have the same values: family, country, and Christianity”, I heard one say. Just like social media itself, which enables fringe groups to unite and appear more mainstream, rallies like Robinson’s are emboldening and uniting, even if that unity is only felt amongst the few in attendance.
In fact, for myself and many other onlookers, the effect of such a gathering is anything but uniting. On the tube earlier in the day, two older women with England flags on their shoulders were like an elephant in the tube. For the largely young and multicultural passengers, their arrival brought with it an awkward silence, as well as a tension derived directly from this divisive use of the flag. A young woman with a keffiyeh around her neck caught my eye, and we both laughed. The absurdity of the ‘Raise the Colours’ movement is laid bare in moments like this. The flag, for these two older women, and many others in the country who have partaken in the movement, is clearly not about pride. The two women did not wear it with pride but instead with an almost sheepish reluctance to admit their views, which, in a tube carriage full of cultural and ethnic diversity, put them in a minority of two. The flag, when weaponised and paraded like this, is not uniting. It is divisive and in many ways embarrassing.
Despite troubling headlines that tell a story of “overwhelming numbers” and show of force, when seen in person, the main effect is largely a disappointing one. It does not carry the same drama as the hate-filled march in Charlottesville, and the vast majority of people there are simply voicing anger as they feel that “they are not being listened to”. Nevertheless, despite the underwhelming firsthand effect of the march, the true consequences continue to be felt across Britain in the day-to-day tension and hostility that the far-right spreads and feeds upon.
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