Whether on the medieval battlefield or in modern football stadiums, the St. George’s flag has represented England for centuries. The red cross on a white background is the national banner of England, one nation within the United Kingdom.
But unlike the United States, where acts of overt patriotism are celebrated, England has a more nuanced relationship with St. George’s Cross. For some, it represents patriotic pride. For others, it has become a symbol of exclusionary politics.
That is why the flag is making headlines. It is increasingly being flown in public, at a time when England is consumed by heated debate over the use of hotels to shelter asylum-seekers.
Why We Wrote This
Seen as both patriotic and prejudiced, the English flag has become a controversial symbol in the United Kingdom. As the country wrestles with its immigration policy, so too is the U.K. debating the public display of St. George’s flag.
How did St. George’s Cross come to be England’s flag?
During the Crusades of the 12th century, Christian knights carried crosses of different colors to mark themselves in battle. A red cross on a white background became linked with St. George, a Roman soldier and Christian martyr whose cult spread widely in Europe. His legendary dragon-slaying gave him enduring appeal as a figure of courage and divine protection.
By the 13th century, English monarchs had begun adopting St. George as a patron. King Edward III formalized the association in the 14th century, proclaiming him England’s patron saint and encouraging soldiers to wear his cross in campaigns against France and Scotland. Over time, the symbol shifted from general Christian use to also being a distinctly English emblem.
The red cross on white was firmly established as England’s flag by the 15th century. It later became the foundation of the Union Jack, the emblem of the United Kingdom that combines the English flag with the saltires of Scotland and Ireland. But the Cross of St. George still flies as England’s own banner.
Why is the flag controversial in England?
For generations, St. George’s flag flew without controversy from royal standards and church spires. Today, it still appears on St. George’s Day (every April 23), at remembrance events, Olympic sports competitions, and soccer matches, often as a positive expression of English pride.
Soccer culture has given the flag some of its most visible moments. Supporters carry it to tournaments as a marker of national identity and solidarity. At the England women’s Euro 2025 victory parade, the flag filled the streets of London, waved by a diverse crowd celebrating a multiethnic national team.
Yet the flag’s prominence during episodes of hooligan violence in the 1970s and ’80s left it with a more aggressive reputation. That duality – festive in stadiums, threatening in street clashes – still shapes how many view the Cross of St. George today. Since the 2010s, it has been central to far-right politics, cementing its association with exclusionary nationalism.
For much of the 20th century, far-right extremists rallied under the Union Jack. But as devolution boosted the visibility of Scotland’s saltire and Wales’ dragon in the 1990s, the Cross of St. George gained new prominence in England. Groups such as the National Front and later the English Defence League seized on it, using the cross to drive anti-immigration and anti-Muslim campaigns.
Why is it in the news now?
In summer 2025, a campaign known as Operation Raise the Colours called on people to hang St. George’s flags from homes, pin them to lampposts, or paint them on roads and roundabouts. Organizers framed it as patriotism. Critics argued that, in practice, many displays clustered near asylum hotels, turning the flag into a signal of exclusion and intimidation.
Local councils have had to walk a fine line. They rarely intervene when residents fly the flag from houses or cars, expressions widely seen as organic patriotism. But when flags of most kinds are strung across lampposts or painted on public property, authorities are more likely to step in, treating such acts as unwanted political messaging. In some towns, English flags have been quietly removed from shared spaces to avoid the appearance of creating “not welcome” zones. Critics note the parallel with Northern Ireland, where flags have long been used to mark territory and signal who belongs there – and who does not.
The flag-wielding protests themselves have been modest in size, usually drawing dozens rather than hundreds, but the imagery has traveled widely online. Far-right activists, including Stephen Yaxley-Lennon (aka Tommy Robinson), have amplified these displays to project influence beyond their numbers.
That visibility has forced mainstream politicians to respond to the controversy. Prime Minister Keir Starmer said he is “proud” of the English flag and called it a patriotic symbol. But he also argued that when used “purely for divisive purposes,” the flag loses its value.