The Unite the Kingdom rally in London was billed as some grand patriotic moment, a unifying force, a national stand, a big tent for the whole UK.

And then you look at the crowd and half of them are wearing “Make England Great Again” hats.

England.
Not Britain.
Not the UK.
Just England; loudly, proudly, and with the graphic design sensibilities of a knock‑off MAGA stall.

If this was meant to “unite the kingdom”, it’s news to the rest of the kingdom.
Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland were not invited to this particular fever dream, and frankly, we’re fine with that.

Tommy Robinson (Stephen Yaxley‑Lennon when he’s filling out forms) delivered his usual sermon about “saving the nation”, while the crowd chanted like they were at a Tennessee revival rather than a damp square in Westminster.

The whole thing felt imported.
Not British.
Not local.
Just American culture‑war politics, reheated and served with Union Jacks for garnish.

And the hats really were the perfect symbol:
a rally supposedly about the UK, branded like a county‑level grievance fair.

We have enough of our own problems; collapsing services, a cost‑of‑living crisis, a political class that couldn’t organise a functioning toaster. We don’t need to import someone else’s theocratic authoritarian cosplay.

But here it is anyway:
a ready‑made identity crisis shipped across the Atlantic, complete with slogans, crosses, and merch that can’t even get the name of the country right.

This wasn’t “uniting” anything.
It wasn’t even trying.
It was England shouting into a megaphone and calling it patriotism, while the rest of the UK quietly backs away, checking the exits.

If this is the future of British politics, then the kingdom isn’t uniting; it’s being rebranded.
Badly.
And without consent from the other three nations.