I went to the march to hear for myself what people really think, and what I found was more complicated than the headlines suggest.
I decided to attend the march not to shout slogans, but to listen. Too often, these events are reduced to caricature: “racist rally”, “bigoted mob”, “angry extremists.” As a journalist, I wanted to know: who were the people there, and what really motivated them?
So I spoke to as many as I could. An Iranian-born British man told me he saw worrying parallels between what had happened in his homeland and the direction Britain might be heading. An ex-Muslim spoke of his concern about the rise of extremist Islam here. Others expressed pride in British culture, mixed with unease that the values they cherished were slipping away. Again and again, I heard the same thing: we are not racists; we are people proud of our Britishness, and we feel it is being eroded.
What struck me was how many people described feeling ignored, sidelined, even demonised simply for voicing these concerns. Here, among thousands, they could say openly what they are usually told is unacceptable. That freedom, even when it made me uncomfortable, was central to the gathering.
Because, yes, there were moments that troubled me. A New Zealand preacher went so far as to call for banning mosques, halal food, and non-Christian religions. As a Jew and as a Briton, I found that rhetoric deeply uncomfortable. But there were also voices I found myself agreeing with wholeheartedly. That is the messy reality of free speech: you will hear things you dislike alongside those you support.
And that is why I do not believe this was a racist rally. I do not recall hearing speeches that denigrated people simply for their race. I did hear anger, frustration, and sometimes clumsy or provocative language. But above all, I heard a demand that newcomers to Britain integrate, embrace the culture around them, and not live apart from it.
Free speech means exactly this: hearing things that make us uncomfortable as well as things that resonate. Pretending otherwise weakens debate and silences real concerns. My experience at the march showed me a Britain wrestling with difficult questions about identity, culture, and belonging. And if we dismiss that conversation as mere bigotry, we risk silencing it altogether, with consequences for all of us.
