Dr. Daniel Read
Daniel is a Senior Lecturer in the Institute for Sport Business at Loughborough University London. His research focuses on sport business and integrity, with particular emphasis on the ethical and commercial dynamics shaping contemporary sport.
Email: d.read3@lboro.ac.uk
Prof. Daniel Lock
Daniel is Director of the Institute for Sport Business at Loughborough University London. His research interests focus on how social identities shape the ways in which sport is watched, played, and led.
Email: D.J.Lock@lboro.ac.uk
National identities are, perhaps, most pervasively symbolized through flags. In this vein, as major tournaments for the Men’s and Women’s teams always do, the 2026 FIFA World Cup saw the St George’s Cross flag prominently displayed in England, and abroad, as a symbol of support for the team. On a surface level, the St George’s Cross and other totems symbolizing English football (e.g., The Three Lions) provide a point of coherence and shared national identity.
Under the surface, however, these symbols are highly contentious because they represent an array of visions about what and who England is for. In this article, we explore the contested nature of the English flag in the context of events leading up to, and during, the 2026 World Cup.
In July 2025, ‘Operation Raise the Colours’—a movement with alleged links to nationalist groups—gained prominence during the England Lionesses run at the Women’s European Championships. Its supporters took to English streets, spray painting red crosses on roads and roundabouts to display their ‘patriotism’ and ‘national pride’.
The defacing of public property was highly contentious more broadly. Critics argued that the displays were a racist dog whistle promoting exclusionary far-right positions on immigration and inclusion in England. Local councils, on the other hand, were left with a significant public spend to clean up the red and white paint marks from roads, buildings, and other public properties. It is in this context of political polarization that England traveled to compete in the 2026 Men’s World Cup.
The flag was at the center of this polarization. One survey found that 39% of English people, and 47% of English people who identified with an ethnic minority group(s) agreed they would not wave or display an England flag to avoid appearing to support the English far-right. Data from YouGov shows that 39% of English people agreed that the flag has become a racist symbol, increasing to 52% for English people that identified with ethnic minority groups. This illustrates that there is a stigma attached to the St George’s Cross by some English people.
Stigma reflects that people or groups can be accused of possessing negative attributes that differentiate them from others in society. This process operates on both sides of debates about what and who the St George’s Cross is for. To individuals espousing far-right ideals about anti-immigration, stigma is placed on asylum seekers, refugees, and immigrants to the United Kingdom.
However, on the other side, stigma applies to the far-right, which makes the St George’s Cross a somewhat toxic symbol for people with more centrist or left-leaning views about immigration. In this vein, researchers have observed pronounced differences in supporters’ relationship to the England team based on political beliefs and social class. Supporters with more centrist or left-wing political views tended to distance themselves from an identity they perceived to be stigmatized because of its associations with the far right and hooliganism.
These stigmatizing processes were heightened in the lead up to the 2026 World Cup. The tournament took place in the U.S. with Trumpism in full flight and Reform doing well in the United Kingdom’s electoral polls. Each of these factors has emboldened those with far-right views to attach them to public displays of the St George’s Cross.
In this political and social context, a diverse group of men represented England during the 2026 World Cup. Drawn from a range of ethnic, religious, regional, and class backgrounds, these players embodied a version of England that is, in many ways, the antithesis of far-right definitions of The St George’s Cross and what it means to be English. It is for this reason that the English football team, and its symbols, are often held up as a force for good in a divided nation.
In this sense, the temporality of major tournament football enables moments when the St George’s Cross comes to represent a shared hope that the England Men’s team will win their first World Cup since 1966. The 2026 World Cup was no different and reflects the social and temporal nature of national identities. During tournaments, supporters—that fly a flag or not—can disagree fundamentally about politics, immigration, race, and religion. Yet, they can all understand the distinctiveness of their nation in contrast to Mexico, Norway, or Argentina.
Yet this fleeting inclusivity is conditional on the team’s performance. Players may be celebrated as national heroes following victory but as soon as the World Cup ends for England and social conditions change, pre-existing stigmas re-emerge. No clearer is this than when black England players were racially abused when they were perceived to be responsible for England’s failures at Euro 2020 (held in 2021), a response that campaigns like Raise the Colours has only emboldened.
The shared English identity that forms around the national football team’s performance serves as a reminder of how sport can unite people. Yet, when the context changes, these fleeting moments of togetherness can quickly transform into a pervasive platform through which the stigmas attached to groups in society quickly re-emerge. It remains to be seen what and who the St George’s Cross will represent at the 2030 World Cup.
