For more than three weeks, the press has reported on Union Jacks strung from lampposts across the country. On Saturday, over 100,000 people gathered in London to back Tommy Robinson’s nationalist agenda. On the very same day, for the ninth year running, the Royal Albert Hall was a sea of blue and gold as thousands of EU flags were waved during the Last Night of the Proms.
The juxtaposition is striking. Two events, two messages, two visions of what it means to be British. One is rooted in extreme nationalism, with speakers like Elon Musk telling the crowd that Britain must stand alone, a sovereign “empire” reborn, unshackled from the world. The other celebrates Britain as a soft power, an outward-looking, globally engaged country, capable of serious conversations about climate change, conflict, dwindling resources, and the role of AI in humanity’s future.
For nationalists, Brexit was supposed to be the fix. Nigel Farage and others sold it as the day of independence that would restore greatness. Nine years on, many of those same voters now see the promise for what it was: a mirage.
The demonstrations on Saturday captured this tension perfectly. Robinson’s supporters railed against “boat people”, convinced that stopping a few thousand asylum seekers each year would somehow cure the nation’s ills. Across town, inside the Royal Albert Hall, another truth was on display: Brexit has choked off opportunity. Touring musicians (once free to cross Europe with ease) are now shackled by red tape, visas, and costs that have eroded their income, weakened the creative industries, and diminished Britain’s cultural influence.
Thank EU for the Music
For nine years, campaigners from Thank EU for the Music have quietly handed out EU flags at the Proms to remind the world that the plight of musicians has gone largely unheard. Yet their protest points to something much deeper: the unresolved question of British identity.
Nationalists cling to a monoculture. They believe greatness comes from one flag, one identity, one story. But pro-European voices are comfortable with multiplicity. You can be from a city, support a football team, belong to a nation, a union, a commonwealth, and still see yourself as part of Europe and the wider free world. They understand that sovereignty in the 21st century is collective, that real strength comes from pooling ideas and working together to solve problems that no country can solve alone.
The optics of Saturday laid this bare. On one side: angry faces and hostile placards demanding others “go home.” On the other side, a hall full of joy, music, colour, and diversity, an audience campaigning not for isolation, but for freedom, culture, tolerance, and yes, love.
Britain stands at a crossroads. These two competing identities cannot be wished away. The time has come for a serious, grown-up national conversation about what kind of country we want to be.
