Reform UK has built an entire political identity on the premise that Britain must be “taken back” – but from whom, exactly? What looks like a policy platform is, in reality, a carefully curated ecosystem of disillusionment. Emerging from the ashes of the Brexit Party, Reform has perfected a narrative in which “ordinary people” are perpetual victims of distant elites, cultural vandalism, and a supposedly collapsing national identity. Yet, alienation isn’t accidental. It is the architecture of their entire project.Â
This sense of cultural loss, the idea that something pure and coherent has been stolen, is not organic. It is engineered. It is the emotional engine that enables Reform to weaponise estrangement, perform symbolic erasure, and manufacture a national belonging crisis that they then claim to solve.Â
Flag politics & the performance of belonging
In Reform’s hands, the flag is no longer a national symbol; it is a political sorting device. Its omnipresence in speeches, rallies, and campaign videos does more than invoke pride. It draws a line between those imagined as the “authentic” British public and those positioned as peripheral, suspect, or fundamentally incompatible with the nation. The flag becomes a curated symbol of insider status. Not only this, but a declaration of who counts and who must justify their presence.Â
And Reform pairs this symbolism with substance. Plans for mass deportations, arrest-on-arrival procedures, expanded detention estates, and rigid removal timelines aren’t incidental. They are the practical expression of a worldview that treats diversity not as reality but as contamination. Women, ethnic minorities, and liberals are nudged out of the idealised national core. Not through overt proclamation, but through a steady insistence. This insistence dictating that real Britishness is narrow, nostalgic, and conveniently homogeneous.Â
the politics of alienation & scapegoating
Reform’s rhetoric portrays Britain as a nation hijacked by cultural forces that have abandoned “traditional” communities. It is a deliberately crafted story of abandonment. Elites who mock the public, institutions that refuse to listen, norms allegedly rewritten by “woke culture”. But instead of confronting the material roots of insecurity such as collapsing public services, stagnant wages, and regional inequality – Reform redirects frustration toward migrants and multiculturalism.Â
Everyday social change becomes evidence of national decay. Immigration morphs into the universal culprit. Scapegoating isn’t an accidental feature. Instead, it is a political strategy. By framing migrants as the architects of national fragmentation, Reform projects itself as the heroic corrective to a crisis it actively inflames.Â
identity infrastructure as political infrastructure
Reform constructs British identity as something fragile and permanently under siege. This cultivated insecurity allows the party to present restrictive immigration measures not as ideological choices. But instead, as fundamental protection. Mandates to erode Indefinite Leave to Remain and excluding non-citizens from welfare – the message becomes evident. Belonging is conditional and reserved for the few.Â
These policies don’t solely reflect a discourse of estrangement. They embed it into the everyday lives of migrants who have lived, worked, and raised families in the UK for years. Reform morphs cultural anxiety into administrative reality. Here, erecting a hierarchy of legitimacy that slices through communities and corrodes the possibility of a shared public.Â
NOSTALGIA, POLITICISATION, & THE REWRITING OF COMMUNITY
Central to Reform’s appeal is a heavily politicised nostalgia. The party invokes a mythical, pre-liberal Britain – that is implicitly white – and elevates it as the natural state from which the country has tragically strayed. This imagined past becomes the benchmark for diagnosing the present. Diversity becomes a deviation; complexity becomes chaos; change becomes decline.Â
This isn’t harmless sentimentality. Nostalgia is deployed as a justification for punitive policy, making exclusion look restorative. Reform packages its reactionary vision as national healing, even as it shrinks the circle of belonging and positions anyone outside its preferred identity script as a threat.Â
THE PARADOX OF CONTEMPORARY PATRIOTISM
Reform UK cloaks itself in patriotism, claiming to defend civic integrity and speak for “ordinary people”. But the patriotism it offers is paradoxical. A celebration of British identity that depends on restricting who may claim it. The flag is raised as a symbol of unity while functioning as a gatekeeper. Immigration policy is presented as national salvation while deepening the fractures it claims to mend.Â
Reform promises to restore the nation. But restoration, in its hands, means exclusion. Pride becomes boundary-drawing and belonging becomes a test many will never pass. The party rallies around the flag not to expand the community of the nation, but to draw its borders ever tighter.Â