Flags, fear and the question of identity

I walked to a birthday dinner through the streets of London on Saturday 13 September, and remembered that I am mortal.

This was the day that a rally, organised by anti-immigrant activist Tommy Robinson, saw up to 150,000 people march through central London. Held under the name “Unite the Kingdom," Robinson promoted it as a free speech event.

As a black woman, when I found myself surrounded by white men draped in English flags, feeling their eyes on me, I walked with my head held high, but internally I prayed, “Wow, Lord." I remembered my mortality in those moments. I felt, yet again, a stranger in a nation that I had called home for decades.

That acute feeling of being mortal - feeling like my life could be snuffed out in a matter of moments - has only happened to me a handful of other times. It was humbling, and I remembered and was thankful for the privilege of not feeling such fear, so much. But I’m so thankful that I can face even fleeting danger with the hope of Jesus - something I said to the Lord. I was fine in the end, and we had a lovely birthday dinner.

What does it mean to be British?

The concept of Britishness and of national pride is a long overdue conversation needed to be had in the United Kingdom. I believe part of the reason that the raising of the British and English flags is on the increase is in direct response to the defiant raising of the Palestinian flag across the nation’s towns and cities. So disenfranchised with the political noise of the country, so shocked by the ascent of Islam in the United Kingdom, white British people are asking, of their nation, “Who are we?”

This is a good thing. The sadness of it is that the only voices that seem to offer a space for this question to be answered are voices aligned with violent racism. These voices gaining traction don’t offer hope of a resolution. Whilst I agree that uncontrolled immigration is something to be addressed, we are quick to forget that being part of the European Union for decades meant we as a nation signed up to and benefited from uncontrolled borders (European holidays, anyone?) until we didn’t.

While we tell our government to work harder to control the borders, I suggest that there are many people of all skin colours with British passports who don’t feel like this is their country. They are more willing to align with their country of origin or another suffering state because they do not identify with the United Kingdom. They do not wish to wave the British flag, which is in serious need of an identity makeover, owing to racist acts of the past. My proposition is that the primary problem with the United Kingdom is not the problem of migration; it’s a problem with identity.

It comes down to identity

As believers in Christ I think we are uniquely equipped to provide some support to this question of national identity. As strangers and aliens in this world (2 Peter 2v11), we should facilitate healthy conversations on this topic. We ought not to avoid having the conversation and we ought not to pick a political side. We can, like our Prince of Peace, learn to have healthy conversations about what it looks like to be productive members of our society, giving to Caesar what is Caesar’s (Luke 20v25).

If I was in charge, I would encourage us all to participate in a national conversation about our shared cultural identity. I would set interventions in place so that people of diverse ages, genders and political backgrounds celebrate British identity through entertainment, education and collaboration. I would definitely set a project to make over the British flag, so that we all forgive and identify with it. But I’m not in charge. So I’ll pray for the flourishing of the nation in which I am an exile (Jeremiah 29v7); I’ll try to have healthy conversations with friends and colleagues; and I’ll keep my eyes on Christ who is my life and glory (Colossians 3v4).