Central London was transformed on September 13, 2025, as more than 110,000 people turned out for what has now been described as the largest far-right rally in British history. The event, organized by Tommy Robinson—whose real name is Stephen Yaxley-Lennon—was not just a show of force for Britain’s anti-immigration movement, but a vivid illustration of how transatlantic far-right politics have become deeply intertwined. Chants, flags, and even a moment of silence for a slain American activist highlighted the day, but so did violence, political finger-pointing, and a potent sense of history repeating itself.
According to The Guardian, the rally, dubbed “Unite the Kingdom,” drew between 110,000 and 150,000 attendees—predominantly white, overwhelmingly male, and waving Union Jacks, American and Israeli flags, and the iconic red MAGA hats. What began as a march for “free speech” quickly morphed into a battleground, with Robinson’s supporters clashing with police as they tried to reach a smaller group of counter-protesters. Bottles and projectiles flew, leaving 26 police officers injured and leading to 25 arrests. The anti-immigrant message was loud and unmistakable, as chants of “send them home” echoed through the streets.
But this was no isolated British affair. The crowd’s energy was stoked by remote appearances from global far-right figures, most notably Elon Musk, who joined via videolink. Musk, who recently lifted the ban on Robinson’s content on X (formerly Twitter), told the crowd, “Whether you choose violence or not, violence is coming to you. You either fight back or you die.” According to reporting from The Guardian, Musk’s support has been a critical boost for Robinson, helping him amplify his message and build a profile that now stretches across the Atlantic. The rally also featured remarks from French far-right leader Eric Zemmour, further underlining the event’s international flavor.
Perhaps the most unexpected moment came when the crowd fell silent to honor Charlie Kirk, the 31-year-old American political activist from Cook County, Illinois, who was murdered at Utah Valley University. Kirk, founder of Turning Point USA, was not widely known in the UK before his death, and his organization’s British offshoot has never gained much traction. Yet, as The Guardian observed, his killing was seized upon as a symbol—a rallying point for those who see themselves as defenders of free speech and Western identity under threat. “Thousands of British patriots just fell silent in honor of Charlie Kirk in London,” tweeted Eric Daugherty, assistant news director at Florida’s Voice, capturing the moment’s resonance for American audiences as well.
Social media, particularly US-based accounts, played a crucial role in amplifying the event’s message. Clips of the crowd chanting Kirk’s name and a minute’s silence spread rapidly online, with far-right influencers like Naomi Seibt and Brigitte Gabriel framing the rally as proof of a global movement. “White children will grow up as patriots from now on. White guilt is over,” Seibt tweeted to her 436,700 followers. Meanwhile, conspiracy theorist Alex Jones’s Infowars platform promoted content from the rally, as did other prominent US and UK accounts. The “Great Replacement” theory—a baseless narrative claiming that white British identity is being erased by immigrants—featured heavily in both speeches and online commentary, despite its history of inspiring extremist violence.
The rally’s organization and scale were a shock to many. As The Quint noted, “What was once fringe is now commanding the kind of numbers that change political landscapes.” The anti-racist counter-protest, organized by groups like Stand Up To Racism and supported by left-leaning Members of Parliament, mustered only a few thousand participants. Their banners called for solidarity and compassion—“refugees welcome” and “smash the far right”—but they were dwarfed by the sea of nationalist symbols and slogans. London Mayor Sadiq Khan condemned the violence, while Prime Minister Keir Starmer vowed that Britain would “never surrender the flag to far-right protesters.” Yet, as both outlets observed, words alone are unlikely to quell the underlying frustrations fueling such rallies: anger over jobs, housing, and public services, often inflamed by social media conspiracy theories.
The ties between Britain’s and America’s far-right movements are not new, but the digital age has made them more immediate and influential. Professor Paul Jackson, an expert on extremism, explained to The Guardian that “the mutual reinforcement of messages is done in real time.” Stories of social conflict or moral panic in one country are quickly adopted and adapted by activists in another. Financial ties run deep as well: US tech billionaire Robert Shillman, for example, previously paid Robinson about £5,000 a month for his work at Rebel News, while the Middle East Forum has supported Robinson’s legal defense and brought foreign speakers to his rallies.
Political figures on both sides of the Atlantic have navigated these waters with varying degrees of caution. Nigel Farage, long a champion of Brexit and now leader of the surging Reform UK party, has benefited from US support without fully embracing the most extreme actors. This balancing act was highlighted when Farage attended a $500-a-head Republican Party dinner in Tallahassee in March 2025, a trip he apologized for not registering with Parliament. Farage’s messaging—focused on anti-immigration themes—has helped Reform UK rise in the polls, but he remains wary of being too closely associated with figures like Robinson or Trump, especially given the latter’s low approval ratings in Britain.
For all the noise and spectacle, the rally was also a reminder of Britain’s long history of anti-immigrant agitation. As The Quint recounted, hostility toward newcomers stretches back centuries—from the Evil May Day riots of 1517, through the Aliens Act of 1905, to the Notting Hill riots and Enoch Powell’s infamous “Rivers of Blood” speech. Each generation finds new scapegoats, but the underlying grievances—over work, housing, and identity—persist. Today’s far-right, supercharged by social media, is simply the latest iteration of this old story.
Ironically, the current Labour government has enacted some of the strictest immigration controls in decades, raising income thresholds for skilled workers, closing certain migration routes, and promising more deportations. Yet, as The Quint points out, these measures have not quelled anti-immigrant anger; if anything, they have fueled it, giving extremists new ammunition to claim that the government has failed.
The events of September 13, 2025, will likely be remembered not just for their size or violence, but as a crossroads for Britain. The far-right’s vision is one of exclusion and fear, while counter-protesters argue for a pluralist democracy where diversity is a strength. Which path the nation takes may well depend on whether leaders address the real sources of insecurity—jobs, housing, and social trust—or allow the politics of division to take root. The silent majority’s response, not just the loudest voices in the square, will shape Britain’s future.
