What is going on with the world?

In recent years, the sight of Union Jack flags flying across the UK has become more ubiquitous. Yet, what was once a symbol of national pride is now increasingly tied to a certain kind of rhetoric that has seeped into mainstream politics, one that centres on a deeply polarising issue: immigration. While some claim that their flag-flying is a simple celebration of British identity, for many, it has come to represent something far more sinister – a declaration of exclusion, a symbol of nationalism that is often used to justify policies that harm the most vulnerable.

But the issue here isn’t just about the flying of flags; it’s about what these flags are representing. Immigration is not the only policy that should define a nation’s values, yet in the current political climate, it often feels like it is. It’s as though entire societies, cultures, and identities are being boiled down to a single issue, one that is consistently used to divide and vilify the most marginalised groups. Immigrants, refugees, and people of colour are disproportionately represented as ‘the problem,’ painted as threats to social stability, to jobs, to the very fabric of what is deemed ‘British.’ It is a cruel misrepresentation, one that hides the very real, very human people behind the stereotypes and scapegoating.

What gets lost in this hyper-focus on immigration is the fact that many of those shouting the loudest about ‘taking back control’ are also the same people whose policies fail the working class. We are told to fear the outsider, while our own people – working-class Brits – continue to face stagnant wages, insecure jobs, and cuts to vital public services. The same politicians who wave the flag so proudly are the ones pulling the rug out from under those most in need. It’s a smokescreen, a diversion to keep the poor divided and distracted, while those at the top continue to profit.

Flying the flag is one thing, but it’s become increasingly clear that behind it lurks an undercurrent of fear and bigotry. It’s intimidating, not just because of the flag itself, but because of what it has come to represent. It’s not just about pride; it’s about power. The implication is that to be British, you must conform to a certain image, a certain idea of what it means to belong. And if you don’t fit that mould – whether due to your race, your nationality, or your heritage – you’re left to feel like an outsider in your own home.

This is where it becomes deeply dangerous. The people who are behind this rhetoric, the ones who raise the flag in their own twisted vision of ‘Britishness,’ are often the same ones who turn a blind eye to the reality of the working class. They are the ones who would rather use immigrants as scapegoats than confront the systemic issues that lead to inequality and exploitation. And in doing so, they perpetuate a climate where racism, xenophobia, and hatred thrive. They know exactly what they’re doing. This isn’t about protecting a culture or securing a future for the working class – it’s about consolidating power and preserving privilege for the few.

But let’s not forget: we are all human. We don’t own this land. The Earth does not belong to any one group of people, no matter how much we like to think that our borders are sacred. Every inch of land we stand on has been fought over by people far before us, and will continue to be contested by future generations. The idea of “owning” land, of claiming it for one group or another, is absurd when you stop and think about it. It’s a man-made concept, a product of colonialism, and it’s the root of so much of the violence and division we see today.

Take Gaza, for example. People there are fighting and dying over a piece of land that none of us truly own. The bloodshed, the suffering, the loss – it’s all because we’ve convinced ourselves that one group of people has a right to a particular place on Earth. It’s the same rhetoric that drives wars, divides communities, and breeds hatred. And yet, no one truly owns the land. We are simply temporary inhabitants of a planet that we’ve never had the right to claim as our own.

This isn’t just about borders; it’s about recognising the inherent humanity in all of us. Immigrants aren’t ‘taking our jobs’; they’re human beings, often fleeing unimaginable horrors, seeking safety, stability, and the chance for a better life. To turn them into villains, to use them as pawns in a game of political power, is an abomination.

We need to start asking the difficult questions. Why are we so quick to turn against each other? Why do we allow the powerful to divide us, to pit us against one another, based on lines drawn on a map that no one truly owns? Immigration, race, culture – these are not the problems. The problem is a system that thrives on division and exploitation. The problem is a world where those in power continue to profit from the suffering of the most vulnerable, all while we are distracted by flags and rhetoric that serve to keep us in line.

It’s time to stop being intimidated. It’s time to remember that we are all human, that we are all on this planet together. And no matter how many flags you fly or how loudly you shout, you cannot own the Earth. It’s time to fight for a world where we care more about each other than about borders, where we recognise the humanity in everyone, regardless of where they come from. Because that’s the only way we’ll truly create a better future for all.

i. Respond to this post by suggesting ways in which we can encourage the idea of a collective conscience in society, by being inclusive to all, rather than exclusive to some.

ii. What have the examples of ‘patriotism’, especially pride in the flag, articulated in the post above, has to do with Empire and the loss of it?