Vexillophobia: Not Just Fear of Flags, but a Rebellion Against Globalism, By Richard Miller (Londonistan)
In a rain-soaked British high street, the Union Jack and St George's Cross flutter defiantly, slicing through the grey drizzle like bursts of pride. Yet, for some, these flags spark not joy but visceral unease, a condition dubbed "vexillophobia" by Laura Dodsworth in a recent Daily Sceptic piece. This fear of flags, she argues, is sweeping the UK, with figures like Andy Burnham and Professor Kehinde Andrews recoiling at the sight of national symbols, branding them as divisive or even racist. But this isn't just about bunting. Vexillophobia reflects a deeper clash: a populist revolt against a globalist agenda that seeks to dilute national identity. From the UK to Australia, flag-waving is becoming a battle cry for those resisting homogenised, borderless ideologies. If this divide widens, it could fuel social unrest, reshape politics, and redefine sovereignty, but at what cost?
Dodsworth coins "Vexillophobia" to describe the irrational fear of flags, particularly the Union Jack and St George's Cross, which some see as symbols of racism or fascism rather than pride or heritage. A YouGov survey found one in four Britons view flag-flyers unfavourably, with Labour voters 13 times more likely than Conservatives to call the St George's Cross "racist and divisive." Public figures amplify this: Burnham questions the motives behind flag displays, while Andrews claims they signal "Britain is white." Even the Archbishop of Canterbury has decried nationalists who "defile" the flag. On X, posts echo this polarisation, some see flags as hope and courage, others as harbingers of hate.
But this isn't just about fabric. Flags embody national identity, history, and sovereignty, values that clash with globalist ideals prioritising open borders, multiculturalism, and supranational governance. Vexillophobes, Dodsworth suggests, project self-hatred, unable to embrace their nation's symbols. This mirrors a broader cultural divide: those who cherish local traditions versus those who see them as barriers to a borderless world. In the UK, this tension is palpable, Brexit, immigration debates, and Net Zero policies have ignited populist pushback against elites perceived as out-of-touch.
The UK's flag controversy is a microcosm of a populist surge. Brexit was the first major salvo, a rejection of EU integration in favour of national control. Now, flags on lampposts and car dealerships signal a grassroots defiance of globalist narratives. Historian Robert Tombs, cited in The Daily Sceptic, sees this as part of an "English revolution," where ordinary Britons question their identity and future amid elite disdain for patriotism. Flag-waving as a movement of "ordinary Britons" unaffiliated with NGOs, reclaiming symbols from a globalised establishment.
Australia mirrors this trend. The Aboriginal flag and debates over Australia Day ignite similar passions. Populist voices, like Pauline Hanson, frames flag-waving as resistance to globalist policies, from Net Zero to mass migration, all seen as eroding sovereignty. Recent protests against renewable energy projects and cultural "wokeness" show Aussies, like Brits, rallying around national symbols to assert local control. Both nations share a scepticism of institutions, be it the UK Met Office's dubious climate data or Australia's government pushing green agendas, viewed as tools of a globalist elite.
If vexillophobia and the populist backlash it provokes intensify, the consequences could be seismic:
Social Division: Polarisation over flags could deepen societal rifts. In the UK, Labour's push to define Islamophobia as racism, alongside dismissing flag displays as divisive, risks alienating working-class voters, as seen in Reform UK's rise. Australia faces similar tensions, debates over Indigenous symbols versus the national flag could produce resentment if mishandled. Without dialogue, these divides could spark unrest, as warned by commentators like Fiyaz Mughal about Britain's two-tier society risks.
Political Realignment: Populism is reshaping politics. In the UK, Nigel Farage's Reform UK gains traction by championing flag-waving patriotism, while Labour's Keir Starmer struggles to reconcile his "patriotic" claims with his base's vexillophobia. Australia's Liberal-National coalition could capitalise on similar sentiments due to Labor's globalist policies like Net Zero. If populists dominate, expect policies prioritising borders, energy independence, and cultural heritage over international agreements.
Vexillophobia isn't just fear of flags, it's a rejection of what they stand for: sovereignty, tradition, and local pride. The populist revolt in the UK and Australia signals a broader push against globalism's erosion of national identity. Dodsworth's exposure therapy, flooding vexillophobes with flags, might desensitize some, but it won't bridge the chasm between those who see the Union Jack or Australian flag as home and those who see them as hate. If this clash escalates, it could fracture societies, realign politics, and challenge globalist agendas. But there's hope: open debate and transparent institutions could channel this energy into a renewed, inclusive patriotism. For now, raise the colours, red, white, and blue, or green and gold, and let the protests continue!
"I recently returned from holiday. The segue from hot dry days oiled with rosé and factor 30 to a best-of-British grey rainy day was harsh. But as I took myself out for provisions, slapping my sandals through puddles under a leaden sky, my mood lifted. The high street was lined with our beautiful Union flags. Bright red, white and blue cut through the drizzle like fireworks. A reminder that this is home.
Not everyone feels the same. X, that great sewer of national neurosis, is on fire with polarised responses to a few flags on lampposts. Some of us see hope, pride and courage. Others see racism, fascism and the end of civilisation. And so I would like to coin a new word for our times: Vexillophobia.
Vexillology is the study of flags. A vexillophile is someone who loves them. I am amazed that no one else has coined the obvious opposite, vexillophobia, until now. Yet here we are, in a country that actually needs a word for people who recoil in horror at bunting.
A vexillophobe hates flags. They are allergic to bunting. They start to twitch at the sight of a fluttering Union Jack. The St George's cross provokes maximum fear and outrage in the vexillophobe.
Take Andy Burnham, who said: "You can obviously display a flag if that's your choice but I don't know, I do wonder about the times we're living in. It's like people are seeking confrontation." I think Andy Burnham is a vexillophobe.
He is not alone — vexillophobia is sweeping the land. Professor Kehinde Andrews told Good Morning Britain that people who put up flags are really signalling that "Britain is white and we shouldn't be here". Essex County Council sent staff a note warning that England flags on roundabouts might make people feel "unsettled". The Archbishop of Canterbury, no less, complained last summer that nationalists "defile the flag they wrap themselves in". Poor Justin, what does he make of the Last Night of the Proms when the Albert Hall becomes a glorious sea of flags, Rule Britannia! soaring and hearts pounding with joy? Perhaps he considers it a televised hate crime.
The media is consumed with bunting panic. NBC asked, 'Patriotic pride or anti-immigrant campaign? Why the English flag is suddenly everywhere' and the BBC dourly warned: "National flags have started lining our streets. They may say something more."
A YouGov survey last year revealed that one in four Britons has an unfavourable view of people who fly the Union Jack or St George's Cross. Keir Starmer claimed that the Labour Party was the patriotic party, but Labour voters were 13 times more likely than Conservative supporters to describe England's flag as "racist and divisive". Almost half of Labour voters took a negative view of those who hang a St George's Cross outside their home.
Parliament has an APPG on British Muslims, building on the APPG on Islamophobia which preceded it, and is determined to push for legal and institutional recognition of Islamophobia as a form of racism. There are APPGs dedicated to health and mental health. So, why is there no All-Party Parliamentary Group on vexillophobia? This country urgently needs one. MPs must step up and support sufferers of this terrible malady. Imagine how difficult it must be to go about your daily business while breaking into a cold sweat every time you pass a car dealership or a Wetherspoons festooned with Union Jacks. Truly, this is a silent epidemic.
And it gets worse, since I suspect the vexillophobes don't just complain, they project. They accuse people who love flags of being "flag-shaggers". No one is shagging flags — one wonders whether there is something distinctly Freudian about this insult?
No, I am afraid that vexillophobia is a giant red flag for hatred of one's own nation — in other words, a form of contorted self-hatred. If you cannot take joy in your own country's symbols, if you sneer at those who fly the flag at home, if it drives you mad to see your flag in the high street, then you have a deeper problem.
J.D. Vance has told patriotic Britons to "push back against the crazies". But what should we do about the crazies themselves?
Fortunately, psychology has answers. The classic treatment for phobias is exposure therapy. Arachnophobes are encouraged to look at a spider from a distance, then closer, then to hold one in their hands until the fear subsides. Likewise, we can only hope that if vexillophobes are exposed to more and more flags they will not only be de-sensitised, but even learn to enjoy the thrilling colours and elegant geometry of one of the best flags in the world.
There is no cure but courage. Vexillophobes must learn to stand tall, eyes fixed on the flagpole, and embrace what they fear.
So, people, you know what to do. Proudly raise the colours. Hang a flag from your window, tie bunting across your garden, stick a Union Jack on your car. If nothing else, it will help our poor vexillophobic neighbours confront their demons.
The red, white and blue is ours. Let it fly."
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