Across towns and city streets in recent months a new — and unexpectedly combustible — civic spectacle has taken hold: clusters of Union Jacks and St George’s Crosses tied to lampposts, painted onto mini-roundabouts and daubed across public walkways as part of a loosely organised movement calling itself “Operation Raise the Colours.” Supporters present the action as a homespun revival of patriotism; opponents say it is a deliberate, provocative effort to intimidate migrants and mainstream minorities, and warn that far-right activists have co-opted a seemingly simple symbol for political gain. The row has exposed fault lines in contemporary Britain over identity, protest and who gets to claim the nation’s flags. (Wikipedia)
What is happening on the ground?
The campaign appears to have begun as a grassroots online call to display national flags more prominently in public life and rapidly spread across English towns and into Scotland and Wales, with localised groups organising flag-raising events and volunteers posting images on social media of their handiwork. In some places, people have tied flags onto street furniture; in others activists have painted the red cross of St George onto roundabouts and pavements. Some councils and residents have welcomed the displays as “simple, visible expression[s] of pride”; others removed flags citing safety, maintenance or the need to avoid community tensions. (politicsuk.com)
How the dispute escalated
Behind the apparently benign motif of bunting and bright crosses lies a fraught history. The St George’s Cross — England’s flag — has been used in the past by anti-immigration and far-right groups, and that association has resurfaced as activists supporting Operation Raise the Colours have included figures and networks with documented links to the far right. Research and anti-extremism groups say donations of flags and organisational support from high-profile extremists have helped swell the campaign’s reach, prompting accusations that “it was never about flags” but about giving confidence to racists to amplify hostility towards asylum seekers and minority communities. Organisers and many participants push back, insisting their intent is to “reclaim” national symbols for ordinary people and to celebrate patriotism rather than to intimidate. (Hope Not Hate)
Political responses — from condemnation to embrace
Politicians have been quick to stake out positions. Some centre-right figures and populist voices have praised flag-raising as a legitimate expression of national pride and civic engagement; others, including council leaders in places where flags have been removed, say officials acted on public-safety grounds. The controversy has also drawn attention from senior politicians who have warned of the danger of “hijack” by extremists, while some national political leaders have tried to thread the needle — supporting the right to display flags but condemning any use of symbols to intimidate residents. The public debate has become a proxy battleground for wider tensions about immigration, community cohesion and the meaning of Britishness. (The Times)
Case study: Greater Manchester and the “Everyone Welcome” response
Greater Manchester — where the campaign’s imagery spread rapidly — offers a microcosm of the dynamics. Pro-flag activists staged coordinated days of action, hanging flags in residential neighbourhoods and at roundabouts. That prompted a creative counter-movement led by local artists and community groups who sought to “reclaim” the flags for inclusion. The “Everyone Welcome” initiative invited participants to redesign St George’s crosses with messages of diversity and welcome; murals, adapted flags and multi-coloured versions began to appear in the same public spaces where plain crosses had been posted. For those involved, the redesigns were a deliberate statement that national symbols could be reinterpreted to reflect pluralism rather than exclusion. (The Guardian)
Law, order and the limits of civic display
The campaign has not been wholly peaceful. Some flag-painting on roads and roundabouts has been treated as criminal damage, and police forces have opened inquiries where properties or memorials were defaced. Local authorities have pointed to the Highways Act and other regulations to justify removing attachments fixed to lampposts or prosecuting unauthorised painting of public surfaces. Councils face a dilemma: tolerate benign flag displays and risk community upset, or remove them and be accused of being “unpatriotic” or politically biased. At the same time legal experts caution that the state cannot ban flags outright — doing so would raise free-expression issues — but it can act where public safety or vandalism is involved. (The Times)
Why flags have become a political flashpoint
Symbols rarely exist in a vacuum. Flags are compact conveyors of identity, history and emotion, and their meaning is contested. For critics of Operation Raise the Colours, the timing and style of displays — frequently concentrated in neighbourhoods near asylum accommodation or areas with visible ethnic minority communities — suggest the campaign’s intent is less to celebrate and more to mark territory. For supporters, flags are a prophylactic against perceived cultural erasure, a way to respond to political elites they feel have stopped celebrating national identity. In other words, both sides believe flags “work” — but to very different ends. (The Independent)
Voices from affected communities
Interviews conducted in towns where flags were prominent reveal mixed reactions. Some residents say the flags are harmless, a bit of local colour that brightens dull urban furniture and reminds people of traditional civic occasions. Others — particularly from migrant or minority backgrounds — describe unease and fear, recalling previous episodes where the St George’s Cross has been deployed as a taunt or warning. Community leaders stress that context is everything: a flag handed out at a parish fete reads differently from a cluster of identical banners erected outside a council-run asylum hotel on the same night as a protest. Those on the receiving end of the latter often interpret it as an act of exclusion. (Wikipedia)
Media, online networks and the rapid spread
The campaign’s swift spread owes a great deal to social media: images and instructions circulated in closed messaging groups and on public platforms, inspiring copycat actions in different regions. That same networked amplification has made it easy for far-right groups to “plug in” to the narrative: by providing flags, advice or publicity they can magnify a movement that began with more ambiguous motives. Media coverage — from tabloid “patriot” framings to investigative reports exposing extremist backers — has in turn shaped public perception and political responses, creating a feedback loop that escalates tensions whenever a new incident appears. (Reddit)
Cultural responses: artists, schools and civic groups step in
Not all responses have been combative. Cultural organisations, artists and school groups have taken a restorative approach, using the symbol as a canvas rather than a cudgel. Workshops teaching children the history of national symbols, public art commissions to reinterpret flags, and civic education projects aimed at explaining how national identity can be inclusive have tried to shift the conversation away from binary “for” or “against” positions. These initiatives argue that reclaiming a contested symbol is possible precisely because symbols are malleable: their contemporary meanings are negotiated, not fixed. (The Guardian)
What the polling and experts say
Public-opinion polling since the campaign began suggests a divided picture: many people support a visible expression of patriotism, while a significant minority are concerned about the campaign’s associations or the potential for community harm. Experts in extremism warn that gestures which appear mainstream — flag displays, marches, or even charity stalls — can be exploited as recruitment or normalisation tools by organised radicals. Their advice to local authorities is pragmatic: engage communities early; create clear, consistent rules about public-space use; and facilitate alternative, inclusive displays that allow people to express pride without making others feel unwelcome. (Hope Not Hate)
Where this could go next
Several possible pathways are visible. The campaign could fizzle if public appetite wanes and councils adopt consistent, measured policies. It could also be absorbed into mainstream politics, with parties and candidates co-opting the imagery to signal cultural alignment, further normalising the displays. Alternatively, if incidents of intimidation or vandalism increase, legal sanctions and police action could intensify, turning a symbolic row into a law-and-order issue. The volatility of the situation means local choices — how councils, police and communities respond — will likely shape the national narrative. (The Times)
Lessons for civic life
The debate over Operation Raise the Colours demonstrates how symbols can be both benign and weaponised, depending on context and intent. It underlines the importance of civic literacy — that is, public understanding of how historical use, contemporary politics and symbolic power intersect. It also exposes the need for local leadership that can channel patriotic impulses into events and educational projects that affirm shared values while respecting diversity. Where symbols become contested, the most constructive responses tend to be those that avoid simple prohibition or unconditional celebration but instead combine clear rules with inclusive civic offers. (The Guardian)
Case Study 1: Greater Manchester — Flags vs. “Everyone Welcome”
In Salford and other parts of Greater Manchester, residents woke up to find St George’s Crosses painted on roundabouts and hung across residential streets. Supporters said it was a way of “reclaiming” the flag from extremist connotations. But local artists and community organisers launched the “Everyone Welcome” project, redesigning flags with rainbow colours and multilingual greetings. One mural on a roundabout was painted to include both the red cross and the words “Welcome to All.”
- Example: A local Somali shopkeeper described feeling “initially targeted” when flags appeared outside his store but said the community-led reinterpretation “turned it into something positive.”
- Comment: Community cohesion officer Fatima Malik noted, “The same symbol can feel like a shield or a threat — it depends on who’s holding it and why.”
Case Study 2: Kent — Local Council Backlash
In Kent, a group of residents hung Union Jacks and St George’s flags on council lampposts without permission. The council later removed them, citing safety concerns under the Highways Act.
- Example: Pro-flag activists accused the council of being “anti-British” and staged a small protest, waving handheld flags outside town hall.
- Comment: Council leader Mark Ellison defended the removal: “It isn’t about being unpatriotic. It’s about safety, legality, and ensuring symbols don’t divide communities.”
Case Study 3: Glasgow — A Scottish Dimension
Although the campaign began in England, it spread to parts of Scotland, where activists raised Union Jacks in predominantly pro-independence areas. This ignited fierce debate over whether the movement was “patriotic” or “provocative.”
- Example: In one case, flags were hung outside a community centre that runs English classes for migrants. Staff reported a “chilling effect” on attendance for several weeks.
- Comment: Professor Neil Davidson, a political sociologist, observed: “In Scotland, the Union Jack carries different baggage. What looks like patriotism to one group can feel like political provocation to another.”
Case Study 4: Online Networks and Far-Right Involvement
Researchers from Hope Not Hate and other anti-extremism groups have documented how far-right influencers amplified Operation Raise the Colours. They provided logistics, funding, and online platforms to spread flag imagery.
- Example: Screenshots from Telegram channels show calls to “flood the streets with red and white” near asylum seeker accommodation.
- Comment: Researcher Nick Lowles warned: “It’s not the flag itself — it’s how and where it’s deployed. Outside a football stadium it’s pride; outside a refugee hotel, it’s intimidation.”
Case Study 5: A School Response in Birmingham
A Birmingham primary school turned the controversy into a teaching opportunity. When flags were erected nearby, teachers held lessons on the history of national symbols and encouraged students to design their own inclusive flags.
- Example: Children created flags combining the St George’s cross with diverse cultural motifs — one included a crescent moon, another a Sikh khanda, alongside traditional red-and-white.
- Comment: Headteacher Amira Khan said: “Symbols are not static. By giving children a voice, we show them that patriotism and diversity can coexist.”
Public Voices and Street-Level Reactions
- A retired veteran in Essex: “I fought under this flag. To see it raised in my street makes me proud. I don’t see hate, I see heritage.”
- A refugee support volunteer in Sheffield: “When 20 flags appeared overnight outside the asylum centre, the message was clear: you’re not welcome.”
- A young football fan in London: “We wave the St George’s Cross every tournament. It’s ours too. Don’t let extremists own it.”
Expert and Political Commentary
- Dr. Katherine Williams, cultural historian: “The debate illustrates the malleability of national symbols. They can unite at a coronation, divide in a protest, or be reinterpreted through art.”
- Local councillor in Luton: “We walk a tightrope. Allowing displays risks emboldening extremists, banning them risks alienating ordinary patriots.”
- Home Office spokesperson: “We support the right of people to fly flags lawfully but condemn any attempt to use them to intimidate communities.”
Broader Implications
The case studies show a spectrum of interpretations:
- In some contexts (football matches, civic holidays), flags inspire solidarity.
- In others (outside asylum centres, in independence-leaning areas), they trigger fear or resentment.
- Civic and cultural initiatives — from school art projects to inclusive redesign campaigns — suggest a path forward that embraces pride while rejecting exclusion.
Conclusion
Operation Raise the Colours is less about fabric than about meaning. Whether flags stand for unity or division depends on who raises them, where they are displayed, and how communities respond. Case studies from Manchester to Kent, Glasgow to Birmingham show that the flag is both contested and powerful — a reminder that symbols cannot be separated from politics, but also that they can be reinterpreted. The challenge for Britain is to ensure the red and white cross can represent welcome as much as pride, not fear as much as exclusion.
ponses and the legal context. (The Independent)