Flags, Protests and a Fractured Identity: Inside England’s Weekend of Patriotism and Anxiety

By Jaffa Levy

An impulse—to reclaim a sense of belonging—echoed in England this weekend, where flags and protests occurred in the open air.

A surge of English and British flags across town centres and transport arteries complemented with anti-immigration protests this weekend, offering a vivid tableau of how national symbols have become proxy battlegrounds for Britain’s migration politics. In east London’s Canary Wharf, police made four arrests after scuffles near a hotel used to house asylum seekers; an officer was punched as a masked minority turned a noisy demonstration into a brief street-level confrontation.

The flag wave has cohered around a loose banner—“Operation Raise the Colours”—whose supporters describe a grassroots push to “bring back patriotism,” festooning lampposts, bridges and roundabouts with the St George’s Cross and Union Jack. Detractors see an agit-prop campaign that uses patriotic décor to launder an anti-immigration message. Reporting and open-source monitoring indicate the effort emerged in August and spread quickly through local Telegram and Facebook groups.

Investigative work by monitoring groups has linked some activity to known far-right actors—including Britain First—and to organisers associated with Tommy Robinson, who, they say, provided flags and coordination in certain towns. Organisers dispute that characterisation; movement pages insist the aim is civic pride, not intimidation.

Councils have begun removing unpermitted flags from public street furniture under routine safety and neutrality policies, even as they stress that flags on private property are lawful. In Birmingham and Tower Hamlets, removals triggered further rounds of posting, takedown and recrimination—an escalation that has, in places, produced a cycle of nightly symbolism and daytime maintenance.

Downing Street, for its part, has tried to keep distance from the street theatre while nodding to national sentiment. Asked whether the Prime Minister supports people flying the flag, No. 10’s spokesman said it was “absolutely” fine—remarks that pleased supporters and alarmed those who see the campaign as a vehicle for menace.

Away from the semiotics, the proximate trigger for many flash-points remains asylum accommodation. In Epping, Essex, a legal tussle over the Bell Hotel has become a magnet for rallies; a recent court ruling allowing continued use of the site for asylum accommodation has been cited by both sides as cause to redouble efforts. Demonstrations continued there and in other towns over the weekend as each camp interpreted legal developments as fuel for their cause.

Inside malls and on pavements, the media mosaic looked familiar: phone videos of confrontations, rumours outrunning facts, and official updates posted to social feeds as officers imposed dispersal and face-covering powers in London. By Sunday evening the Metropolitan Police reported multiple arrests linked to common assault, drug possession and assault on police.

All of it converges with a policy pivot. The government is preparing an asylum package that tightens family-reunion rules and overhauls appeals—introducing a 24-week timetable and a new adjudication body—to clear a costly backlog and phase out hotel use. Ministers cast this as pragmatic reform; opponents warn due-process shortcuts will invite legal challenge and push vulnerable relatives into riskier routes. Either way, the legislative track and the flag movement are feeding the same narrative weather system.

Public sentiment is split. For some, a flag on a bridge is simple pride; for others, especially in diverse boroughs, mass flagging feels like territorial marking at a fraught moment. Voices from letters pages and street interviews captured that divide this weekend, underscoring how a once-benign emblem now carries different meanings depending on who is watching—and why.