My place or yours? - Flags and the far right from someone who looks different to you
By Alex Andreou
‘I need you to understand what this country feels like right now to those of us who look different, because only then might you glean what those flags going up signify to someone like me. They are a preemptive claim over contested space.’ - writes Alex Andreou
‘Falling out with other people is so often about contested space. We can live peacefully next to a neighbour for years, until the thought starts to intrude that their neglectful lack of pruning is stealing sunshine from our kitchen table. Soon it can become the defining aspect of that relationship.
On a train carriage, during rush hour, the only person that bothers us is the one still wearing their bulky backpack. The guy who cuts the queue at the supermarket. The woman on the bus who decides her shopping deserves its own seat. The person in front of one at the cinema, with the impolitely big hair.
We all get annoyed when we feel our fair share of space has been somehow compromised. But that aggression tends to come out in different ways and usually focussed on the encroaching behaviour. Not for me. Not recently. Since Brexit, increasingly, what is on the tip of people’s tongue is their superior birthright to this place I have called home for thirty-five years.
It’s not a good time to look and sound foreign in Britain. Gone are the days when othering manifested itself with a patronising, but at least complimentary, “exotic-looking”. “F**k off back to Pakistan”, shouts the fourteen-year-old, told off for bombing it down the pavement on his bike. “When you’re in England, SPEAK ENGLISH!” screams a woman on the tube, as I tell my nephew how to get to his destination once he alights. “You shouldn’t even be in this country”, is the reaction of the minivan driver who almost runs me over, backing out of a driveway.
Every such paper cut injures disproportionately someone who absolutely adores this country; chose it, to build a life, at a time when such a choice was not only possible and easy, but encouraged. Each “go back home” feels like a carefully crafted personal insult to the years of effort I have made to explore every wonderful peculiarity of this gorgeous place. Working out that “you look well” means I’ve put on weight, or learning what the rules of cricket are. To acclimatise myself to vinegar on chips and marmite on toast. To find out what the hell are “Fingerbobs” and to what “shut that door” refers.
I have made every effort to understand you. Now, I need you to understand me. I need you to understand what this country feels like to those of us who look different in 2025. The micro-aggressions are daily, the abuse regular, and the threat of violence constant.
I found myself last Friday trying to plan, so that I wouldn't even need to go to the corner shop for milk on Saturday. Like it was Christmas Eve or the day before lockdown. Why? Because I live near where Yaxley-Lennon was to assemble his "troops" at the weekend, and where many of them would end up coming back to, especially with the Charlton-Millwall derby going on that afternoon. I had friends texting me to "stay safe". Southwark, for all its piquant splendour, has also been home to that tendency for decades.
I need you to understand what this country feels like right now to those of us who look different, because only then might you glean what those flags going up signify to someone like me. They are a preemptive claim over contested space. They say "we own this street - not you". They are a marking of territory. They do not unite, they exclude - a visual reminder that I am not welcome.
You may not see them that way, because you have the right look and accent, but you are not the intended audience of most of the people putting them up. I am. And they intend to send precisely the message that I receive. “You’re in our country,” says Ross from Lichfield, pointing to a flag he has just cable-tied to a lamp post. “You bow to this flag how we do.” But you don’t bow to flags. You just want me to. Actually, Ross wants me to bow to him - the flag is just a proxy.
Every discussion I watch, every interview and panel show, is all about the “legitimate concerns” of people like Ross. I hear nothing about my legitimate concerns. Millions of people like me do not even feature in this conversation. We have dropped off politicians’ radar. Taxation, but no representation.
And so it is with Charlie Kirk: I condemn his murder, because I condemn all violence, because the sight of a bullet entering soft flesh sickens me, because I worry about how it will be weaponised in turn, because to his kids he was just "daddy", and ultimately because I don't think anyone is irredeemable. But I do not mourn his loss, personally. And I won’t pretend to, either.
The threat men like Kirk and Yaxley-Lennon create for people like me is not theoretical. It is real and it is daily. There is a direct line from their “freedom of speech” to the fact I dared not step outside my own front door last Saturday.
The reason I need you to understand all this, before issuing gracious platitudes on what is the "right" reaction to a flag for people who do not experience life in the same way you do, is because this completely unnecessary battle for contested space has created a calculation in my mind.
Every single day, I catch myself tallying: at what point do I decide to cut my losses and start building another life in another place? And if the many conversations I have every day are anything to go by, I am not alone in making that calculation. I love this country and its quirks and maybe that day will never come. Or maybe it will come tomorrow.
Places fall out of love with people and people fall out of love with places all the time. It can happen very suddenly and quite finally. Not that it should matter of course. Win-win for “patriots”. More space for flags.
Alex Andreou is an actor, political commentator and host of the Quiet Riot and Podyssey podcasts.
Alex, your article made me deeply sad. That someone as clever, talented and warm-hearted as you should feel unwelcome here is a shocking reflection on society. You’ve been made to feel that way by bigots who understand NOTHING about true patriotism. We need people like you. You are loved and admired by so many. But it is understandable that you might consider leaving. I was born here and feel the same way - for me, my children and my grandchildren. Our world seems to be darker and less enlightened by the day.
Wow, I feel for you. As a brit solely by virtue of birth (with 2 foreign parents and a funny name) I totally get you, and the flag-shaggers make my hair curl. Brexit was already a kick in the guts and this display reminded me of the NF marches when I was a student in London. Meat heads will be meat heads but I wish that Farridge git would eff off and stop demagoguing all over the place: as for Yaxley-whatever he needs a good slap. And don't get me started on the toxic pos who got shot. I love this country too but sometimes....