Scotland’s iconic blue-and-white saltire has long fluttered as a symbol of national pride, unity, and, for many, the dream of independence. But in recent months, the flag’s meaning has become fiercely contested—its presence at anti-immigration protests from Glasgow to Aberdeen, Perth to Falkirk, has ignited a stormy debate about patriotism, identity, and the future of the country. What’s going on when the saltire and the union flag fly side by side at rallies that, not so long ago, would have seen them on opposite sides?
This shift, reported by BBC on October 8, 2025, is not just about flags; it’s about who gets to define what it means to be Scottish. In late September, Steven Rennie, a prominent voice in the new wave of anti-immigration protests, stood in central Glasgow, draped in the union flag. Before a crowd of hundreds—kept apart from counter-protesters by a police line—he declared, “They claimed our national flag as their own and for 12 long years we've allowed them to wield it as a weapon of division and hate. But no more. We have reclaimed our flag, our identity, our pride and also our resolve.” The crowd roared its approval as he lashed out at the Scottish National Party (SNP), accusing its leaders of “dismantling our prosperity and our potential at every turn, replacing us with new Scots and putting our own people at the bottom of the pile.”
That phrase—"new Scots"—is the SNP government’s own, a term meant to welcome foreign workers and help address Scotland’s record-low birth rate. Since 2007, the SNP has governed from Edinburgh, championing both independence and an open approach to immigration. But immigration policy itself is still controlled by London, and the UK government has so far rejected calls for a Scotland-specific visa system. This tug-of-war has become a flashpoint, especially with the Scottish parliamentary elections looming in May 2026.
On the ground, the issue is visceral. In Falkirk, a former three-star hotel now houses asylum seekers, fueling anger among some residents. Mark, a protester waving a union flag emblazoned with “Stop the Boats,” voiced a familiar complaint: “We're sick of these people rolling up in boats, getting four-star hotels. They're getting their three meals a day while Britain's services suffer. We're just sick of it and Starmer is not doing enough to try and stop it.” Yet, as the BBC noted, the crowd’s anger was not monolithic—minutes earlier, a speaker had shouted, “Keep Britain white. Keep Scotland white. Keep Scotland Scottish.” Mark distanced himself from such rhetoric, insisting, “The protest was nothing to do with racism.”
Across the street, counter-protesters—many from trade unions—had their own criticisms of Prime Minister Keir Starmer, accusing him of pandering to the far right. Sage, a counter-protester, argued, “The real issue in our society is the people in government who aren't tackling these issues head on, not people fleeing persecution trying to find a better place to live. It doesn't matter what side of the political spectrum we're on, everyone is going through it.” For Sage, the real culprits were “billionaires making record profits and not paying enough tax,” not migrants and refugees.
These tensions have spilled into working-class communities across Scotland. In north and east Glasgow, Sighthill in Edinburgh, and Falkirk’s Westfield, hundreds of saltires have appeared on lampposts, often alongside the union flag. On October 5, 2025, in Sighthill, members of Stand Up to Racism (SUTR) tried to remove saltire and Lion Rampant flags after complaints from residents and students who felt threatened by their presence. According to a SUTR spokesperson, they were confronted by a local man who “threatened to slit our throats and stab us for interfering with 'my flags'” before vandalizing their equipment. This confrontation happened next to graffiti reading “Deport Muslims,” which was later removed by the council after initial delays.
Local councillor Ross McKenzie condemned the threats and called for the flags’ removal, pointing out that “those who seek to divide the working class on the basis of ethnicity are just doing the dirty work of the rich and powerful.” He highlighted the shared interests of his ethnically diverse, working-class ward, emphasizing that “the vast majority of people in the area have a shared interest in the need for the state to tax wealth to provide housing and improve services, regardless of their ethnicity.”
The flag campaigns are not as spontaneous as they may seem. The ‘Save Our Future & Our Kids Futures’ movement, which sprang up after the October 2023 conviction of Afghan asylum seeker Sadeq Nikzad for the rape of a 15-year-old girl in Falkirk, has been closely linked to the UK-wide ‘Raise the Colours’ campaign. This movement, according to SUTR and reporting by the Sunday Mail, has been embraced by far-right groups such as Britain First and anti-Islam campaigner Tommy Robinson, aiming to “whip up anti-refugee and migrant hatred.” The Sunday Mail also revealed that Kieran Logan, who co-runs the ‘Tartan Team’ campaign responsible for raising over 1,000 saltires in Glasgow, had called for refugees to be “gassed,” mocked the deaths of migrants, and made Islamophobic remarks on social media.
Extremist slogans and imagery have become more common at these rallies. In Falkirk, banners quoted white supremacist slogans, including the notorious “14 Words,” and displayed phrases like “Kill 'Em All. Let God Sort 'Em Out.” Professor Matthew Feldman, a radical right expert at Liverpool Hope University, warned that such language is “a translation of Hitler's sense of Aryan supremacy” and signals a worrying normalization of racism and glorification of violence, often amplified by US-owned social media platforms.
Yet, beneath the noise, the reality for local authorities is stark. Glasgow, which has the UK’s highest number of refugees in council accommodation, is simply running out of space. “Essentially, we have run out of temporary accommodation,” said Glasgow City Council leader Susan Aitken. “We don't have anywhere to put all of these people who are now declaring themselves homeless in the city, and we're having to put them up in hotels, and that's very, very expensive.” She stressed, “Anyone who is telling you that asylum seekers and refugees are prioritised by the SNP, by the Scottish government, or by this council is lying to you. It is simply not true.”
As the May 2026 Holyrood election approaches, immigration is set to be a central issue, alongside the economy and public services. Reform UK, led by Nigel Farage, is gaining traction, having placed a strong third in a June 2025 by-election and positioning itself as a contender to challenge Labour for second place. Farage told the BBC, “Perceptions of me and the party have changed over that last year, and I intend to make that happen in Scotland over the next year.”
Scotland’s First Minister John Swinney, speaking on October 8, 2025, cautioned against being “swept down a route of a relentless rightward direction in the United Kingdom,” insisting, “I don't think that's where Scotland wants to be. I don't think that's how Scotland feels. And I want to make sure that people in Scotland realise that there is a danger that we will be carried down that route if we don't take a different course.”
With flags flying, tempers flaring, and the polls pointing to a turbulent campaign season, the battle for Scotland’s soul—and its saltire—shows no sign of abating. The coming months will reveal whether the flag of St Andrew can once again be a banner of unity, or if it will remain a symbol of a nation at odds with itself.
