Flags, Crosses and Religious Identity
Picture by Humanists UK who were concerned about the rally https://humanists.uk/2025/09/15/hatred-on-our-streets/
In 2012 I wrote a blog post titled Tribal Symbols which amongst other things mentioned the role flags and the cross play as Christian identity markers. Here in the UK, flags have recently been in the news again and the cross too has been publicly carried as a symbol of nationalist identity and so this blog revisits these issues. Later blogs will look at the politics and the topic of Islamization but, after setting the context, this blog looks at the role of symbols and identity in Christian responses to Islam.
A rally to unite?
Supporters of ‘Operation Raise the Colours’ have been putting flags – the English Cross of St George and the UK-wide Union Jack – on lampposts in cities around the country. Then on Saturday 13th September 2025 these same flags were at front and centre of a rally to ‘Unite the Kingdom’ and ‘defend free speech’.[1] The rally was organised by Stephen Yaxley-Lennon (aka Tommy Robinson), a well-known right-wing activist who was apparently ‘led to Christ’ (i.e. became a Christian) just before his recent release from prison. Certainly, by all accounts, there were many Christians who chose to march with him. Although some admitted to being non-church going, cultural Christians, many others were practising Christians, including some of the speakers and musicians. Whatever other statement the march made, it had implications for Christian responses to Muslims, not least because some of the speakers made strongly anti-Muslim statements.
Rikki Doolan, a ‘minister at Spirit Embassy Church’ in London, who prayed with Robinson (above), led the crowd in singing whilst wearing a Union Jack jacket and pointed out that, ‘every single one of these flags carries a Christian cross. It's a representation of Jesus Christ’. He encouraged people to hold them high to ‘tell every demon and devil, you will not take this country’ and he averred that, ‘we will stand. We will fight. We will win’.
Later, in another speech, Brian Tamaki, the Pentecostal pastor of Destiny Church in New Zealand, said, ‘this is religious war. It's Jesus Christ versus Satan. Christianity versus the rest. Islam, Hinduism, Bahai, Buddhism, whatever’. He spoke just after the crowd had been chanting ‘Allah, Allah who the f*** is Allah?’ and his team had performed a haka, a Maori religious tribal dance to challenge enemies. He went on to say that ‘we got to clean our countries up. We got to get everything out that does not receive Jesus Christ. Ban any type of public expression in our Christian nations from other religions. Ban halal, ban burqas, ban mosques … We don't want those in our countries’. After that his team shredded Muslim-related flags, including a Palestinian flag. He might have a point when it comes to the Hamas flag, but shredding a Palestinian flag shows a stunning ignorance of the fact that there are Palestinian Christians. These words and actions must have seemed extremely threatening to many people.
Plenty of Christian leaders have since spoken out condemning the rally and some signed a letter raising concern about the ‘co-opting of the cross’. Of course, there is a place for proper pride in one’s country and flags can be a great means of celebrating that. But in these speeches, flags and crosses were clearly being used to identify religious groups, whilst at the same time communicating strong animosity from Christians towards Muslims.
Identity markers
Visual and audible symbols are extremely significant in the encounter of social groups, whether based on ethnicity, religion, politics or sexual orientation. From millennia-old territory markers through old school ties to football supporters’ shirts, different groups have always used symbols to mark themselves out as separate. Symbols can also act as marketing tools to raise the profile of the club and attract new members. However, whilst Muslims have many such symbols and identity markers, Christians have relatively few. Maybe this is one reason amongst others why Christians, especially in the West, feel so threatened by Muslims.
In my book, I discuss how food laws, such as the Muslim halal or Jewish kosher regulations, ‘define boundaries and prevent socializing – and thus assimilation – between different communities’. Language too can be used to emphasise identity and unite the community, thus excluding strangers, whether through religious formulae, personal names or vernacular use. The Muslim focus on Arabic is a case in point. Christians do not have any equivalents beyond the odd ‘hallelujah’!
The adhan or ‘prayer call’ is an audible signal for Muslims to gather and carries meaning that church bells do not communicate, even for those Christian denominations that still use them (see my blog Should the Muslim call to prayer be broadcast in the UK?). The religious buildings that are used for prayer and worship are, of course, one of the few visible identity markers of Christian communities. However, in some parts of the West, church buildings are closing down and some of the newer thriving denominations tend not to build ornate traditional buildings. By contrast, impressive mosques are springing up all over Western cities giving a strong indicator of a Muslim presence (see Blog #7 on Islamization).
Visible faithful
Personal appearance is maybe the biggest visible religious identity marker in the Christian-Muslim encounter. Of course, an Asian or Arab face should never be taken to mean that someone is a Muslim. There are many Christians, or those of other religions, who are of Asian or Arab descent. But when that face sports a certain type of beard it is more obvious that he may be a Muslim. A longer beard with the moustache shaved short is a Muslim beard kept in accordance with Hadith tradition.[2] When the man is garbed in a thawb and sports a prayer cap, there can be no doubt that he is a Muslim. Christian men do not have anything like the same visibility. Nothing marks them out as men of faith, unless of course they are ordained in a denomination for which they wear clerical robes or collar. An exception is those in holy orders. A friend of mine used to get very interesting responses from Muslims when he walked in a local multicultural area wearing his brown Franciscan robes. They marked him out as a religious man.
The issue is even more pronounced when it comes to women’s clothing. Probably a majority – although not all – of Muslim women wear a head covering of some kind, although this varies between cultures. They range from a (loose-fitting) hijab through a niqab (the veil across the mouth and nose) to a burqa (with a mesh across the entire face). This might be accompanied by an abaya, a garment which covers the entire body concealing its shape. For this reason, Muslim women are often very visible in public. This attracts a lot of criticism from some non-Muslims, including some Christians, who see it as repressive. But whatever else it is, it is a strong identity marker. Again, there is no equivalent for Christian women in the West. Most dress exactly like the non-religious, unless they are nuns in a religious order. A few years ago, in the UK, there was a campaign called ‘Not Ashamed’ which tried to raise the profile of Christians by encouraging them to wear clothing with Christian messaging on. There are still plenty of websites selling such garments, but it is very much the exception to see people wearing them on the street.[3]
Christians in some other cultures have developed identity markers, maybe in response to centuries of being a minority. For instance, the Amish wear very simple clothing and the Orthodox Coptic Christians in Egypt often have a small cross tattooed on their wrist which identifies them to other Christians. Some young Western Christians, in a culture where tattoos are increasingly the norm, do now bear religious symbols or scripture verses (even in Greek or Hebrew!) on their skin. Indeed, at least one new religious order encourages its members to wear either a silver ring with an inscription or a tattoo to denote their membership.
Another early Christian symbol was the ichthus, the fish, a mnemonic in Greek for ‘Jesus Christ, God’s son, saviour’, which was employed as a secret symbol during early times of persecution. It enabled Christians to identify one another safely. This symbol is still in use as jewellery, lapel pins and bumper stickers, although a dark – and revealing – twist in Cairo saw cartoons of Muslim sharks chasing Christian fish. Other more recent Christian accessories include wristbands posing, amongst other things, the question WWJD – What Would Jesus Do?
The cross
However, it is the cross that has historically been the preeminent Christian symbol. It is displayed in most churches, appears in Christian art and, of course, was being carried by those marching at the ‘Unite the Kingdom’ rally. It is also an extremely common item of jewellery. Many people, who seemingly having no connection with Christianity or the church, wear a cross round their neck. Does this not create an immediate confusion? Not all those who wear a cross are practising Christians.
More serious is the history of the cross itself as a symbol. From the time tradition records that the Roman emperor Constantine had a vision of the cross and heard the words in hoc signo vinces (by this sign you will conquer) the symbol of the cross has become confused with political power and military prowess. Crosses soon appeared on the shields and cloaks of Christendom’s warriors.[4] Indeed, there were people at the rally dressed as Crusader knights with a red cross on their tunics and many national flags, including those above, still feature a cross.
And it is this connection with political power, national identity and the Crusades which is perhaps the most problematic of all. The cross as a symbol of faith maybe does not say what Christians intend it to say. For Christians it represents love, self-sacrifice, humility and so much more. Sadly, to those outside of the Church – particularly to Muslims and Jews – it is often merely a reminder of military imperialism and the Crusades in particular. This leads Joseph Cumming to propose that:
Satan’s greatest masterpiece was the Crusades. Why? Is it because the Crusades were the worst atrocity that ever happened in history? I think Hitler was worse. Stalin was worse. Pol Pot was worse. What is so horrible about the crusades is that it was done under the symbol of the cross, that Satan succeeded in distorting the very heart of the Christian faith (Cumming, 2008, 322).[5]
Could this be happening again? If Christians want to use the cross as a marker of their identity, they might need to work hard to convince some communities that it is indeed a symbol of peace and love. Which raises the question of whether a visible symbol is necessary at all. After all Jesus himself said that everyone will know who his disciples are by their ‘love for one another’ (John 13:35). His followers are to let their light shine before men in such a way that people may see their good works and glorify the Father in heaven (Matthew 5:16). It is love and actions that are to single Christians out.
The impact of symbols and marches
But maybe it is human nature for people to seek out symbols and identity markers. Maybe that was just one of the reasons why so many Christians were happy to attend the rally. Perhaps it wasn’t the racist messaging or claiming the country back but just the reassurance that they were amongst a lot of other likeminded people, the people of their tribe.
However, Christians – and Muslims – should be extremely careful to consider the impact their symbols and their presence at public events will have on their neighbours. In the 1980s and 90s the March for Jesus movement took hundreds of thousands of evangelical Christians – including me – onto the streets of Britain, and other countries, ‘claiming the land for the kingdom of God’. These marchers too carried the cross and for those involved it was entirely a positive message of love, hope and justice. However, I was sobered a few years ago to read the reflections of Cole Moreton, one of the organisers, who now wonders how threatening this must have appeared to onlookers – particularly those of other faiths.[6] This is especially poignant in the light of the Unite the Kingdom rally.
Following this latest rally, I heard the story of two different Christians. One was a convert to Christianity from Islam. She attended the rally to express her appreciation for the freedom and sanctuary she has found to practice her faith in this country. She was happy to celebrate her new-found national identity. She has no racist inclinations whatsoever. Another was a white doctor working in a hospital on the route of the march. The majority of his colleagues, ranging from surgeons to security guards, are from non-white backgrounds, undoubtedly including many Muslims. These ordinary health care employees felt so afraid and threatened by the overt racist and nationalist chants of the marchers passing by the windows under the flags and crosses that they were afraid to leave the hospital for hours. These contrasting experiences reveal the different reasons people have for attending such an event and the divergent ways it might be perceived by others.[7]
We are living in perilous times that call for clear thinking and respectful discussion. This is not always easy in the febrile political context we find ourselves. So, the next blog will consider another topic closely related to the recent rally – how and why some Christians perceive that their countries are being Islamized.
[1] A video is available at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tR7ofzHMVHE. A transcript of the speeches is available with the video.
[2] "Trim closely the moustache, and let the beard flow" - Narrated in Bukhari, Vol. 7, Book 72, Hadith 781
[3] For instance, https://store.notashamed.co.uk, www.jesusstudio.co.uk or https://3rdday.co.uk.
[4] See Ida Glaser. 2010. Crusade Sermons, Francis of Assisi and Martin Luther: what does it mean to 'take up the cross' in the context of Islam?, Oxford, Church Mission Society.
[5] Jospeh Cumming. 2008. Toward Respectful Witness. In: Dudley Woodberry (ed.) From Seed to Fruit: global trends, fruitful practices, and emerging issues among Muslims. Pasadena, CA: William Carey.
[6] Cole Moreton. 2011. Is God still an Englishman? How Britain lost its faith (but found new soul), London, Abacus.
[7] See Pastor Tony Uddin’s excellent blog for a discussion of why other ordinary people from East London joined the rally and the counter-demonstration.