my speech at the national demo for Palestine in Liverpool outside Labour conference

This week, the UK formally recognised the state of Palestine.

As a Palestinian, as a British Palestinian, to you, fellow British people, I say thank you.

But to UK government I say:

Over a hundred years of not acknowledging us — only now you do.

I need to remind you of two years of genocide— sponsored by weapons manufactured right here in the UK.

I need to remind you of over 1,600 health workers killed by Israel. I call them my colleagues.

I need to remind you of many UK health workers — targeted right here at home for our support of Palestine. They want to silence us. 

But we refuse to look away, 

We refuse to be silenced. 

We refuse to be complicit.

---

We know this "kind gesture" from Labour run government came only because of public pressure. Because of *you* — taking to the streets, challenging this government when it showed no shame. While they are complicit, preaching division. You led: Showing solidarity and unity. 

This recognition happened because you made it impossible to ignore us.

For that, I say thank you.. 

---

But this recognition — is just the beginning, not the end. 

While they finally acknowledge us Palestinians on paper, the genocide continues. The weapons still flow. 

in this century-long night, 

this is still the darkest hour in our fight.

Symbolic recognition cannot pierce through this night of terror. 

We need more than gestures.

 We need/ We DEMAND meaningful action.

Friends, 

Our presence must be felt in every space. 

We need our voice louder than thunder. 

In our thousands, in our millions, we are all Palestinians. 

Palestine must become our compass — 

guiding how we shop, 

who we vote for, 

how we measure people's ethics. 

Every choice we make, must be a choice for justice. 

---

Friends:

Speak louder. Reach deeper. Let no silence remain.

Support stronger. Boycott wider. Break every chain.

More action. More passion. More fire in our call.

More organising. More mobilising.

We must give Palestine our all.

Ahmad Baker

watch the speech

UK Recognition of Palestine:

A Step in the Right Direction, But Too Little, Far Too Late

The recognition of Palestinian statehood by the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia, and Portugal on 21 September 2025 marks a significant, if overdue, moment in global diplomacy—almost four decades after Palestine’s 1988 declaration of independence. By the end of that year (1988), around 90 states had already recognised Palestine, including the Soviet Union, China, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and India to name few. Today, 151 UN member states—78% of the world—have done so, with Sweden (2014), Ireland, Norway, and Spain (2024) among the European leaders. The UK’s step highlights just how late it has arrived—something to be acknowledged with shame rather than celebrated as an achievement.

Israel’s continued occupation, U.S. opposition, the ongoing flow of international weapons, and the refusal to hold Israel accountable in arenas such as FIFA and other global organisations mean the announcement changes little on the ground. Nor does it alter the UK’s restrictive domestic environment: while support for Palestinian rights is protected under the Human Rights Act 1998, legislation such as the Terrorism Act 2000 and public order laws continue to limit activism. Recognition, then, is more symbolic than practical, aligning the government belatedly with a public consensus long visible on Britain’s streets.

And yet, symbolism matters. This recognition comes in the shadow of genocide in Gaza, where tens of thousands have been killed and millions displaced. For Palestinians, and for all who stand with them, it is impossible to greet this decision with gratitude; it comes far too late, after far too much blood has been spilled. But it is, nonetheless, a step in the right direction. Above all, it shows that public pressure can shift governments, even reluctant ones. The lesson is not to relent, but to push harder, organise more effectively, and continue demanding justice—because change, however slow, is possible.

Ahmad Baker

why so dark?

Why So Dark

I wore my dark coat in the morning  

Put a smile, started my everyday race  

In the evening I looked at my reflection  

I was wearing my coat on my face

Did I write this? Am I this dark?  

Nothing fun or childish to celebrate  

No joy worthy of a remark  

Or warm loving moments to write about

I always write about tears and darkness  

Because everything is incomplete without sadness  

From birth we start to mourn our deaths  

Might enjoy life, but like to talk about loss

I wonder, is black as dark as we think it is  

Or what else could be darker  

White, maybe, when it is a shroud covering a loved one  

Red, sometimes, when it is blood from a rose or a gun  

Or memories, where the end is the same as they start  

With hugs, tears and kisses that won't last

Many things are as dark as black, or even darker  

But I ask myself, again, why?  

Why do I need to look for darkness  

My words sink low, even when my spirit is high  

Why my tears are plenty in my writings,  

and how rare is my laughter

So,  

I gathered all my memories,  

as I like them to be  

Organised, in order not of time,  

But by importance to me  

I saw my whole life  

Full of joy, happiness and misery  

Like all people  

Simple, straightforward, no mystery  

So why only write about despair, anguish and grief  

It's the same as happiness, nothing lasts  

All become memories, always brief.  

I am rarely sad or angry, I am content, most of the time  

But to get the words to flow and poems to rhyme  

To make my words worth reading  

I have to make the white pages bleeding  

I can only share my tears, my deep thoughts  

My bleak memories, and my dark coats.

Ahmad Baker

قراءة القرآن وقراءة التاريخ

(هذه الخاطرة منبعها فكرة طرحها د علي الوردي في الفصل ١٢ من كتابه مهزلة العقل البشري)

يقول الوردي انه وخلال دراسته في الصفوف الأساسية كانت حصة التاريخ مثيرة ومحببة للتلاميذ، وحصة القرآن ثقيلة ومملة. وهذا بسبب ان التاريخ الذي ندرسه يحكي عن الأمجاد والانتصارات فقط، حتى حين يتحدث عن الفراعنة يخبرنا عن الأهرامات وما شيدوه من حضارة، بعكس القرآن الذي يتحدث عن الضعفاء ومواجهتهم للجبابرة، وعند الحديث عن الفراعنة يشير رمزا الى ما شيدوه من آثار ويستفيض شرحا عن الظلم الذي كانوا يكيلونه للشعوب.

للأسف الشديد ان غالب اطلاعنا على التاريخ هو اطلاع على تاريخ الملوك والدول، وأفضل مثال على ذلك هو كتاب تاريخ الخلفاء للسيوطي، الذي سرد فيه تاريخ الإسلام من وفاة الرسول صلى الله عليه وسلم إلى عهده (القرن الخامس عشر) وذلك من خلال تسمية الخلفاء، وسرد ما جرى في عهد كل منهم. ولكن الغائب عن هذا التاريخ هم الشعوب الذين عاصروا أولئك الخلفاء، فهؤلاء قصص جانبية وجملة او اثنتين في السيرة لذاك الخليفة، واما كيف كانت حياتهم وسخطهم وثوراتهم على حكامهم فهذا غالباً لا يذكر إلا إذا قتلت الثورة الخليفة او خلعته.

والقرآن ذكر لنا قصص الأنبياء والدعاة إلى الله، وبإستثناء الذي حآج إبراهيم ،والملك في قصة يوسف وفرعون في قصة موسى لم يك هناك ذكر للحكام ولو بالإشارة (داوود وسليمان استثناء آخر لانهم هم أهل الملك)، وانما ابطال هذه القصص هم الشعوب وانبيائهم الذين ثاروا ضد الضلال والظلم والاضطهاد والفساد.

ورغم ان غالب قصص القرآن اظهرت تعالي الظلم والظُلّام ورفضهم لقبول الحق وانكسار الحق أمام الباطل، إلا أن الدعاة والوعاظ يَرْوّنَ هذه القصص ليقولوا لنا ان النصر دائما معنا نحن أهل الحق، أهل الثورة على الضلال و الظلم. ونعلم يقينا ان هذا حدث مع عاد وثمود وأصحاب الأيكة، فقد كفروا واستبدوا وتجبروا ولم ينجح النبي ومن آمن معه بتغيير الأمور، ولذلك انزل الله عذاب الله عليهم والمعجزة الإلهية انتصرت، لا الحركة البشرية. اما إبراهيم فقد ترك بلده وهاجر، وموسى اخذ قومه وهاجر، والرجل الداعية في سورة ياسين قُتل، وهكذا دواليك. 

ولربما أكثر القصص تمثيلا لهذا المبدأ ،واقلّها حظاً من دروس الوعاظ هي قصة أصحاب الأخدود (تطرق سيد قطب لهذا في كتابه معالم على الطريق)، فهؤلاء قومٌ آمنوا بالله وثاروا على الاضطهاد والظلم، فكان عاقبة هذه الثورة هي موت كل من شارك فيها بالحرق في الأخدود. والقرآن ذكر القصة وذكر معانتهم ولم يتطرق ولو رمزا الى الطاغية الذي أمر بحرقهم (الآيات التي تلت تتحدث بالمطلق والعموم وليس خصا)، وإنما ذكرت سبب حنقهم وحقدهم على هؤلاء المؤمنين، لتدعم قضيتهم وتعيد التأكيد أنهم هم - المؤمنون الثائرون- من يستحقون الخلود في الذكرى . 

لكننا، ومما تعودنا عليه من حبنا للنهايات السعيدة نجد ان القصص تروى دائماً لتقول لنا: انتصرنا. والتاريخ يحكي فقط عن المنتصرين والفاتحين، لا عن الشعوب المقهورة التي رزخت تحت حكم ذلك المنتصر المؤيد. طبعاً هناك استثناءات في كتب التاريخ عما قلت، وهذه الاستثناءات هي القاعدة، فالكتب تزخر بالقصص والحكايا عن الخروج على الحاكم والقتل والتنكيل والبذخ للحكام مع ما كان يقابله من المجاعة والفقر المدقع الذي تحتملته الشعوب، لكننا اخترنا ان نتذكر ونذاكر ونسرد الماضي والتاريخ على أنه انتصار فلان وعدله وفتوحاته، وتجاهلنا عن قصد، او عن قصور، او عن طبيعة بشرية، تجاهلنا الشعوب التي جعلت ذلك ممكنا.

اليوم نحن، انا وانت ،هم الشعوب التي ستعيش على الهامش في صفحات التاريخ الذي يحدث اليوم، وكل ما قدمناه وحاولناه وانجزناه او ساهمنا به، ليكون الحاضر ممكنا، سيصبح في طي صفحات الماضي ولن يعرفنا أحد، بل سيذكررون هؤلاء الحكام فقط . وستكون حصص التاريخ للاحفاد في المستقبل مثيرة وممتعة حين لا تذكر شيء عنّا. 

على الهامش- من الطريف ان يلتقي علي الوردي مع سيد قطب في الخاطرة، وهما من نفس الحقبة الزمنية لكن على النقيض فكرياً.

أحمد بكر

تموز ٢٠٢٢

أدب السجون

أدب السجون

سجن صيدنايا هو حلقة من سلسلة طويلة في فنون العذاب التي برع بها نظام الأسد. لكن هو ليس الوحيد في هذا المضمار، فوطننا العربي مليء بالسحون والسجناء السياسين. 

عندما كتب عبد الرحمن منيف روايته المعروفة 

شرق المتوسط 

كان أكثر إنتقاد لها هو أنها لم تصف حقيقة العذاب والألم، بل جاءت مخففة 

Light

لذلك، وبعد سنوات عديدة كتب رواية أخرى اسماها

الأن هنا

أو شرق المتوسط مرة أخرى. 

منيف ليس الوحيد الذي كتب في آدب السجون، لكنه الأشهر. هناك أيضا القوقعة لمصطفى خليفة، و تلك العتمة الباهرة للطاهر بن جلون. وكتب كثيرة في أدب السجون. وكتب أخرى تذكرت تجربة السجن ضمن نطاق أوسع مثل مديح الكراهية، ويا صاحبي السجن. 

السجون من كثرتها صار لدينا باب في الأدب العربي اسمه أدب السجون. 

حسبي الله فيهم كلهم... 

هيه يا سجاني 

هيه يا عتمة الزنزانةِ

عتمك رايح.. ظُلمك رايح

نسمة بُكرا ما بتنساني ،،

لولا إمي تركت بعيد 

لو ما اشتقت لضيعتنا

ما كِنت وقفت بشباك الزنزانة وغنيتلها ،،

يا امي العسكر بيني وبينك 

لو طولتي بيعلى جبينك

رضعتيني العزْ

ويُما الموت يطيب وما تنهانِي

هيه هيه.. يا سجاني

أحمد بكر

كانون الأول ٢٠٢٤

سقوط الطغاة

هل نفرح، نحزن، أم نخاف؟

عندما خرجت مظاهرات الربيع العربي، فرحنا، وداعبت فسحة الأمل مشاعرنا، حلمنا بشمس يوم لا يحكمنا فيه الطغاة. تنافسنا في سرد حكايات الظلم والقتل، والتشريد. 

خرج علينا البعض ليقول لنا الخروج على الحاكم حرام، أو أنهم حصن العرب ضد الغرب، أو أن هذا وذاك هم ليسوا كما يقال، وإنما هي خداع الاعلام.. 

كم كان عجيباً أن نحتاج أن نبرر الثورة على الطغاة، أن نقنعهم أننا لسنا مخدوعين، بل مظلومين. 

اليوم سقط بشار، وقبله سقط طغاةٌ كُثر، بن علي، مبارك، القذافي، وصالح. لم ينتج عن سقوطهم خير لبلادهم، فإشرأب المتشدقون كما في كل مرة وقالوا: هل هذا أفضل؟ ألم نحذركم من هذا؟

نعم، إن كانت الأمور تقاس بالنتائج. وان كانت أعمار الشعوب تقاس بالأيام والشهور والسنين. نعم، لا تثوروا، لا ترفعوا رؤوسكم، لا تقولوا لا. 

لكن.... *

اليوم فرح، مليء بالدموع، مليء بالذكريات. سأفرح، لا لأني قادرٌ على أن أنتصر على العالم، لا لأني سأعرف ما سيحدث غداً. لكني سأفرح، لأن عشرين مليون سوري فرحين. سأفرح، لأن الطغاة الليلة سينامون في خوفهم من شعوبهم كما في كل ليلة، وستنام الشعوب وهي تؤمن أن الحلم ممكن، فتبتسم... 

أحمد بكر

٨ كانون الأول ٢٠٢٤

*حذفت النص، لا، لن أبرر لماذا اليوم لنا الحق في الفرح، ليس وقت الفلسفة أو التبرير، ليس اليوم...

The Dimensions of a Martyr" (for Hossam Shabat, Gaza, 24 March 2025

The Dimensions of a Martyr" (for Hossam Shabat, Gaza, 24 March 2025) 

His heart— the size of this earth. 

His dreams— wider than the universe, 

His smile, brighter than all the stars lovers chase. 

He lived in Gaza.

 His tools: a microphone, black, chipped, eight inches from his mouth to the world. 

A camera, twenty centimetres of light-catching truth. 

And his voice— wider than sky, clearer than hope, and louder than the bomb that silenced him. 

The bomb? 

Thirty centimetres of Western design. 

Descended from sky full of prayers, and F16s 

delivering deadly signs

He was not carrying a rifle, 

just a voice, a map, 

and lots of courage.

 They feared his voice. 

A state with tanks, fighter jets, satellites 

And all US might, feared his voice. 

The silence they wanted was loud, and louder , and louder . 

they think the world now is quieter— 

but not at peace.

Ahmad Baker

April 2025

bodies flying

Bodies float, a silent scream,

Blasted above war-torn Gaza.

The world looks on, mute and cold,

Humanity... long since sold.

Bodies soar higher than prayers,

Smoke replaces breath—thick, acrid, a shroud.

Lives thrown against the sky,

Shrapnel paints a dark night,

While the world watches, eyes dry

Ahmad Baker

April 2025

Don't be complicit

Don't just accept the genocide. How many more images of blown up children do you want to see to be convinced that your silence is contributing to the onslaught of Palestinians.

You will say, what can I do? You will say I'm an individual, I can't change things... 6 or 7 billion people are thinking the same. That’s exactly what those in power want you to believe — that your voice doesn’t matter, that your actions are futile. And when millions think this way, injustice prevails. 

There is so much that can be done, silence is not an option. Here are a few suggestions:

1. Talk about it. Don't be shy, talk to friends, family, colleagues, neighbors and people you meet for the first time. Be the new media, the voice of the victims. 

2. Look for local grassroots movements, join them. Yeah, I know, you are busy, we all are. But surely there is an hour here or there in your week you can spare for some local action. Be the movement you wish it existed. 

3. Boycott products and companies complicit in what's happening. Money and income enable the violence. You don't need to buy these products or support these companies. Let them know you will not allow them to sponsor violence with your money. Be the economic force that hurts this colonial project most. 

4. Write to media outlets, to your local representatives, make supporting Gaza your central political issue. It is a just issue. If your MP doesn't support justice and an end to the violence, would they care about patients in A&E corridors, or inflation? Become political, be the new power. 

5. Show your support. Wear a badge, a symbol to show that you refuse to be silent while innocent children are being harmed. Stand up for injustice. "A man who stands for nothing will fall for anything" malcolm X

"We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope" . Do something, don't be complicit. Your silence is complicity.

#FreePalestine #CeasefireNOW #GazaGenocide #stoparmingisrael #SpeakUp

Ahmad Baker

April 2025

May the 4th

May the Fourth

by Ahmad Baker

May the fourth, they say,

be with you—

and I smiled, 

as I thought of her,

A child in a tent of torn cloth.

A one-tonne bomb fell,

her last breath—

not of heroes,

but of hunger’s echo in a tent.

A life unlived,

before bread touched her lips,

before letters formed beneath her hand,

before a free Palestine

could bloom in her young heart.

May the force be with you.

May the force be with memory,

with witness,

with refugees,

With every child, yours, or mine

with every chant for a free Palestine

Ahmad Baker 

May 2025

it must be a dream

It's Just a Dream... Must Be
2 million starving.
Food stacks waiting.
A mile or two — queuing.

Arms killing.
Blood spilling.
Dripping.
Hands gripping —
Empty. Nothing.

World watching:
Silent. Or clapping.

This is insane.
Inhumane.
It must be a dream.
I need to wake up.
Open my eyes.
End the cries.
Stop this pain.
Break the chain.

I try and try,
But my eyes don't lie.
Already open wide.
Reality can’t hide
My tears dried
Humanity, died

This is not a dream.
Though I wish it was
It's a reminder
Any nightmare would be kinder
Than this reality
That never ends.

Ahmad Baker

July 2025

Farewell to Whipps Cross Hospital

Farewell to Whipps Cross

Fourteen years. That's more than 5,000 days, and so many of those days I have spent here at this place, walking these long corridors—often at night, often alone.

I know so many hidden places. The best place to watch the sunset, or to see a full moon. Places where the homeless spend their nights, places where you porters hide wheelchairs, where nurses keep stock, where staff go to take a breath.

I love Whipps. There is so much history in every brick—some with clear writing and dates that go back to the 1930s. I love the architecture, the hidden and displayed artwork. I love the things that once stood high but were then demolished to make way for new things.

But more than long corridors, more than hidden gems, more than beautiful architecture—I love the people. The so many fantastic people I met over all these 14 years.

You made me a better version of myself. You became much more than just co-workers and colleagues. You taught me much, cared for me much, supported me much. And for that, I am grateful—eternally grateful.

Fourteen years... 5,000 days... We have seen some hard days, some fun days, some busy days—almost always busy—and some very sad days. We lost friends and loved ones. We gained new friends. We saw new love, new families, newborns. And I had the honor and the pleasure to share so many of these moments, harsh and warm, with so many of you. And for that, I am grateful.

Through the many tough times we have seen over the years, and recently myself, there has always been love, care, and compassion. And for that, I am grateful.

As I walk out of Whipps at the end of this week, I do not just leave a great place of work—I leave so much more. But I will carry with me, like a tattoo on my shoulder, all the great memories we shared together, the friends I will cherish forever.

And for that, I am grateful.

Ahmad Baker

September 2025

The Left's Patriotism Problem 2

The Brexit Paradox

The profound paradox of the Left and patriotism culminated in the Brexit referendum — a political and emotional earthquake that we are still living with. The tragedy is that the Left had a perfectly good reason to leave the EU. For decades, many on the Left, from Tony Benn to Arthur Scargill, had argued that the European Economic Community (and later the EU) was fundamentally a neoliberal project. They argued it was a rich man’s club designed to protect corporate power, prevent the nationalisation of key industries through strict state aid rules, undermine a government’s ability to enact socialist policies, and put the NHS at risk through treaties like the Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership (TTIP). This was the original “Lexit” position — a critique based not on xenophobia, but on a desire to empower a democratic, sovereign parliament to control its own economy for the benefit of its people.

The Lexit vision was never isolationist. It was about leaving a neoliberal bloc while retaining solidarity. It was a project that combined national democratic renewal with internationalist socialist values.

Of course, many on the left genuinely supported EU membership - seeing it as protection for workers' rights, environmental standards, and human rights. This wasn't unreasonable. But when the referendum came, both wings of the left - Eurosceptic and pro-EU - made the same fatal error: both allowed the other side to define what "leave" meant.

And then came the referendum. The campaign slogan that cut through it all was “Take Back Control.” For the Left, this should have been a dream slogan. It speaks to a fundamental socialist desire: to wrest control from unaccountable forces and place it in the hands of the people. It’s about democratic accountability and popular sovereignty. But the Left abandoned it.

Why? Because the face of “Take Back Control” became Nigel Farage and Boris Johnson. The message was hijacked and repackaged for a xenophobic, anti-immigrant agenda. The Left, in its usual knee-jerk reaction, decided that those who voted for this slogan must be a racist and a fool. It stopped listening to the working-class voters in its own heartlands who were using “Take Back Control” to voice legitimate anger at feeling powerless, ignored, and left behind.

Instead of leading the charge for a left-wing Brexit, a position many had advocated for years, Labour — under Jeremy Corbyn — adopted a weak, ambivalent stance that satisfied nobody. Corbyn himself came from the Bennite tradition of EU scepticism, but under pressure from within his party he fronted a lukewarm campaign for Remain. It was an opportunity to connect with Leave-voting working-class communities in the North and Midlands, to show that Labour could articulate a patriotic and internationalist Brexit — but that case was never made. His later shift towards supporting a second referendum was seen by many as a betrayal of their democratic decision.

The consequences were devastating. By refusing to lead, the Left allowed Brexit to be owned entirely by the Right. Once again, as with the flag, the Left abandoned a powerful language of sovereignty and control, and then acted surprised when it was monopolised by reactionary forces. The result was the collapse of trust in Labour across its former strongholds, and the catastrophic defeat of 2019.

Arthur Scargill warned in early 2019, when Jeremy Corbyn refused to engage in talks with the government unless “no deal” was taken off the table, this was not just a tactical error but “an act of betrayal of both socialist principle and a betrayal of the democratic vote of the British people and the 60 per cent of Labour constituencies who voted to leave the European Union.” Scargill, who had for decades shared platforms with Benn and Corbyn, saw this shift as a disowning of everything the Labour left had once stood for: trust in the people, respect for democracy, and the conviction that sovereignty was essential to socialist transformation.

The 2019 election should have been the reckoning. Labour’s equivocation left millions of working-class voters feeling ignored and insulted, while the Conservatives presented themselves — however cynically — as the champions of the people’s voice. By abandoning the ground of patriotism and democratic principle, the Left left a vacuum that was filled by Johnson’s nationalism. And here lies the wider danger: when the Left refuses to speak the language of patriotism, the far right will always step in with xenophobia and nationalism. People want to feel heard, respected, and represented. If the Left refuses to reclaim patriotism on the basis of solidarity, democracy, and justice, then the far right will continue to weaponise it for exclusion and division. 

Ahmad Baker 

The Left and Patriotism

The Left's Patriotism Problem

When the Daily Mail branded Ralph Miliband "the man who hated Britain," they revealed something profound about how patriotism gets weaponised in this country. Here was a Jewish refugee who fled Nazi persecution, served Britain in the Royal Navy, and spent his academic career fighting to make British democracy more just and equitable. Yet because he was a leftist who dared critique empire and power, he was cast as a Britain-hater. 

This is the trap the Left has walked into for decades. By instinctively recoiling from the English flag, the Union Jack, the monarchy, or anything that feels like a claim to national identity, we've allowed the Right to define what loving Britain means. And their definition is remarkably narrow: uncritical loyalty, historical amnesia, and the equation of patriotism with empire nostalgia.

The Left's gut reaction is rooted in history. Flags were waved to send working-class boys to die in imperialist wars; they flew over colonial outposts and provided the backdrop for ruling-class propaganda. Socialists believed true solidarity was internationalist. Patriotism became interchangeable with nationalism—a dirty word, a tool of division designed to undermine community and working-class unity.

But walking away from national symbols has proved a strategic disaster. The St George's flag is now solely owned by those who use it to stir hatred, to equate being English with being anti-immigrant, to sell a version of history that's pure pomp and empire without mention of those who fought against it. We've ceded the emotional ground and then wondered why we can't connect with people's deepest attachments.

"Be a citizen of the world, not just your country," the Left often tells people. Meanwhile, the far right flies the flag from rooftops and claims to speak for "ordinary people." This is the profound paradox: we abandon the language of patriotism then act surprised when it's used for nationalism.

Yet the flag isn't a single, unchangeable thing. It holds a dual history—oppression, yes, but also resistance and defiance. The suffragettes didn't shun the Union Jack; they marched with it as they demanded the vote, not rejecting Britain but demanding it live up to its promise. The anti-fascists at Cable Street waved it against Mosley's blackshirts, declaring this nation would not be defined by racial hatred.

Many struggle with British patriotism because they conflate the country with its government's actions, past and present. This sensitivity is shared by few nations—perhaps only Germany wrestles similarly with national pride. Most countries express patriotism regardless of who's in charge or what's in their history. Yet in Britain, we're comfortable celebrating Welsh, Scottish, and Irish identity while recoiling from English or British pride.

The same paradox plays out today. The British government's complicity in Palestinian suffering is shameful—yet the British public has filled London's streets with the largest pro-Palestine marches in Europe. That's Britain too. But you won't see Union Jacks at those marches; they fly instead at counter-protests. We've abandoned the flag to those who equate patriotism with supporting every government policy.

But patriotism needn't mean blind loyalty to government, monarchy, or empire. It needn't mean military parades or uncritical obedience. True patriotism is loyalty to the people of this country—their dignity, their future, their wellbeing. It's commitment to making the nation live up to its highest ideals. As Orwell put it, it's the instinct of ordinary people to side with fairness over cruelty.

Fighting for better housing, healthcare, wages, and democracy for British people—that's patriotism in action. Ralph Miliband spent his life trying to improve Britain; that made him a patriot, not a hater. To reject the flag altogether is to abandon any chance of redefining what it represents.

Keir Hardie concluded his famous 1914 speech with a promise of "the sunshine of Socialism and human freedom breaking forth upon our land." That sounds like national pride to me—pride in Britain becoming a beacon of justice.

The tension between left-wing politics and patriotism is real, but it's not insoluble. History shows the two can coexist—and perhaps must, if the Left is ever to reclaim the emotional and moral ground it has long ceded to the Right. It's time to fly the flag without asterisks, to speak of loving Britain without caveats. Because if we don't, the far right will continue to own the argument—and that's a battle we can't afford to lose.

Ahmad baker