By Munya Radzi, founder and campaigner at Regularise
On Saturday morning, after a week that had already left me exhausted, I woke up to texts from friends warning me to be careful, to avoid central London if I could. I wasn’t the only one who received such messages that morning.
Figures linked to the English Defence League, together with other far-right, anti-migrant, and white supremacist groups, gathered in the heart of our multicultural city. They marched under the banner of “Unite the Kingdom” — organised by Stephen Yaxley-Lennon (Tommy Robinson), who pitched it as a rally for free speech and patriotic values. Some in the crowd may not have seen themselves as part of the far right, but in reality anti-immigrant messages, disinformation, and xenophobia dominated the day — and were echoed in Yaxley-Lennon’s own speech.
Amongst the speakers was Katie Hopkins — notorious for spreading white supremacist disinformation online — who opened with the line: “this is how your capital city should look on a daily basis,” to the cheers of supporters.
From France came Éric Zemmour, leader of the far-right, anti-migrant party Reconquête. He used his platform to push the white supremacist “Great Replacement” conspiracy theory, claiming that Europeans are being replaced by “people from the South and of Muslim culture,” and that Europe is now “colonised by our former colonies.”
Then came Eva Vlaardingerbroek, a Dutch far-right commentator, wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with “Generation Remigration.” She urged the crowd to “invoke the help of your country’s patron saint, St. George” — without mentioning, of course, that St. George was Turkish and Palestinian. She spoke of a fight against “mass migration,” declaring, “we are losing our homelands, becoming minorities in our own countries” — this from a white woman from the Netherlands, a country over 80% white, with more than 8 million people of Dutch ancestry living abroad, including in South Africa. She then turned to London, twisting statistics to paint migrants as a threat. As her speech escalated, the crowd roared back: “Send them back. Send them back.”
Zemmour and Vlaardingerbroek showed how these ideas travel across borders — myths of “replacement” and “loss” designed to fuel fear and mobilise hate. And then there was Elon Musk, lending his name and platform to the cause — calling for the dissolution of Parliament, demanding a change of government, and, in language many saw as incitement, telling the crowd to “fight back or die.”
And they weren’t alone. Alongside them were other figures repeating the same themes: blaming migrants, stoking fear, and casting hostility as patriotism. Taken together, it was a show of force. It was meant to intimidate people like me — a migrant and a Londoner of nearly two decades — into feeling unwelcome in my own city.
But despite those warning texts from friends that morning, the knowledge that they would be out in force — from the far right to those with white supremacist views and anti-migrant politics — had the opposite effect on me. That was precisely why I went into central London: to stand in the counter-demonstration and, against the odds, to outnumber them.
Because the streets of London are shaped by all who live here — a multiethnic, multicultural city made vibrant by its people, migrants and racialised communities included. And we will not let racism, a.k.a. white supremacy, or xenophobia grow unchallenged in our city.
Facing the Crowd
On the way into town, I caught sight of groups draped in St. George’s flags. As someone who has been physically attacked by a man shouting racist abuse — and who has friends who were chased by white nationalist skinheads in 21st-century Britain — my heart jumped. For a moment I thought: was I walking straight into danger?
But then I reached the counter-demonstration and felt some relief. Thousands of people had also shown up to resist and to stand in solidarity with the communities under attack.
As we marched, we passed men and women along the route, many wrapped in flags, some holding pints outside pubs, chanting and sneering at us, hurling obscenities. They seemed consumed by anger — though at what, exactly, I wasn’t sure. I felt a wave of sadness as I wondered where their humanity had gone.
The numbers were staggering. Police reported over 110,000 on the far-right march. Even if you accept the “official” figures, we were outnumbered ten, maybe twenty to one. Their side stretched right behind where our speakers stood, separated from us by barriers and a massive LCD screen broadcasting their speeches. From there they spilled into side streets and across Trafalgar Square, while we — perhaps 5,000 or 10,000 at most — held our ground at Whitehall.
We were blocked in. Not just by police trying to prevent Robinson’s rally from clashing directly with ours, but by Robinson’s supporters and other far-right affiliates themselves. They kettled us, surrounding us from multiple sides. For hours — long after our demo was meant to end — we were stuck. Many of us wondered how on earth this could have happened. Was this their plan all along?
Imagine it: thousands of anti-racists corralled in our own capital city, while Robinson’s followers jeered, spat, threw projectiles, and tried to break through police lines to descend on us. Some of us danced to keep spirits alive, defiantly carving out moments of joy in the streets; others chanted with rage and determination. But the imbalance was undeniable.
This is what it looks like when the far right — and those drawn in by wider anti-migrant politics — flood our streets. And why we must never let them believe they can show up here unchallenged.
A Dangerous Turning Point
Let’s be clear: this wasn’t just another march. This was a flex of power by the far right. They wanted to prove they could dominate central London, intimidate migrants and racialised communities, and rally new recruits. And they did. Do not underestimate them.
If you know anything about movement building, you know what comes next. Those men and women — young and old — waving flags and shouting outside pubs will now believe they are part of something bigger. Something not imposed from above, but rooted in the grassroots. They will be emboldened — to spread lies, to harass, to attack, to become the foot soldiers of people they actually have less in common with than the working-class communities they’ve been told to hate — simply because of skin colour, birthplace, or religion.
And the money and amplification — from billionaire figures who have indulged and spread white supremacist ideas, like Musk — will keep flowing. It was no coincidence that he was one of the speakers at the rally.
Let’s not forget: they now feel ever more confident in their mobilisation’s legitimacy — and are working to turn it into a full-blown movement. Their rage is indulged by politicians across the spectrum, either too timid or too complicit to confront how dangerous it is. Legitimised by a government that talks endlessly about “legitimate concerns” over immigration. Legitimised by Labour’s rhetoric, which only fans the flames of racism. And legitimised by years of hostile policies — from Tory to Labour alike — that have deliberately made migrants’ lives unbearable, normalising cruelty as the price of politics.
A day after the march, Business Secretary Peter Kyle doubled down, saying on television that their rally was a call for MPs to “address immigration.” We know what that means: not to tell the truth — that the UK is built by and depends on immigration — but to go harder, harsher, crueller. In the same breath, Kyle admitted that some of the divisions in our society have their roots in the financial crisis and its impact — yet he still failed to refute the lie that immigration and immigrants are to blame, a Business Secretary in denial of reality, refusing to confront it.
This is no accident. It is the direct consequence of political choices — of leaders choosing complicity, hostility, and cruelty against migrants, instead of addressing the legitimate concerns around housing, cost of living and inequality, healthcare, and climate by making the rich and corporations pay what they owe. How can you claim to want to bring communities together while scapegoating, detaining, and forcibly removing migrants who have made the UK home — eroding our rights, and making it harder for people to live and settle here.
This, my friends, is the Hostile Environment manifesting and being enabled on our streets.
Where Were You?
And here is the most painful truth: we were far too few.
I have been to countless demonstrations in this country, including anti-racist ones, and I know how many people can show up when they want to. Where were you this time? Where were the hundreds of thousands — the millions — who say they care about justice, about migrants’ rights, about fighting racism?
It is not enough to post online. It is not enough to share slogans. It is not enough to declare “I am not one of them” while doing nothing to oppose them. And it is not enough to stay at home, insulated by the comfort of citizenship or distance from the sharp edge of racism, while people like me are under attack.
When the far right marches in the streets, we must be there — in the flesh.
Because when we are not, they grow stronger. And every migrant, every racialised person, every marginalised community is made more vulnerable as a result.
Love Is Stronger Than Hate — But Only If We Show It
This fight is not abstract. It is not history. It is happening now. And if we don’t show up, if we let fear or division keep us away, then they have already won.
Remember this — our love must be stronger than their hate:
- love for each other,
- love for justice,
- love for freedom,
- love for humanity.
But love is not passive. It is action. It is presence. It is — among many other things — putting our bodies on the line when fascists and those who seek to harm our communities claim our streets. It is unconditional solidarity — not just in words, but in action.
So next time — and there will be a next time — show up. Bring your friends. Bring your family. Bring your colleagues. Bring your courage. Show them that our love is stronger than their hate.
Because the most violent system to ever exist on this earth — racism, white supremacy — a system five centuries old, will not be defeated by staying home or doing nothing.
It will only be defeated by us, together, refusing to give ground.
As a dear friend and comrade who joined me at the demo once said years ago: “You do not rise up above racism, you rise up against it.”
Challenge its every expression.
And to my fellow migrants and racialised communities: respectability politics will not save us. Showing up for each other will.
And to everyone else who calls this city, this country, this world home: do not be silent in the face of hostility. Neutrality only strengthens their hate, as they are sustained by the status quo — the default white supremacist and class-oppressive structures. This is your fight too. Because when fascism and racism take root, they don’t stop where they begin — they grow until they reach every doorstep.
