Put yourself in their place for a moment. Terrified refugees, lodging in an English city, a raucous, aggressive mob at the door, intent on violence and harm.

Perhaps the police line will hold. But might the attackers come back? When will you ever feel safe again?

These were not random events. These riots were concocted in a cauldron of anger, hatred, racism, ignorance, inadequacy and fear.

Contemplate context. Firstly, the challenge to the police and intelligence services. This was an inchoate threat from a disparate grouping. Far Right activists with a racial agenda. But also bitter, uncertain people, motivated by incomprehension and anxiety.

There is no single organisation here to infiltrate. No army council with whom to hold secret talks.

Given that, the authorities are to be commended for gathering what information they could about planned events.

Anti-racism counter protesters in LondonAnti-racism counter protesters in London (Image: free)

Then the nature of the trouble itself. These were not demos which got a bit out of hand. For many, violence was the purpose. The intent. Onlookers and vague sympathisers were carried along.

Indeed, senior police officers have said terrorism charges could arise in some circumstances. The aim was to intimidate refugees, to target premises occupied by citizens from ethnic minorities.

Not, you understand, with any precise or measurable purpose. This was visceral, not strategic.

But be in no doubt. This was an explicit and serious challenge to our democratic system.

There is in our society much talk of the right to protest, the right to dissent. This week we were reminded of the limits attached to that right.

Democracy involves choice by the people in free and fair elections. There is endless discourse surrounding the partisan nature of that choice, including in the most recent UK electoral contest.

What is sometimes understated is the power thus conveyed to an elected government – and the obligations which fall upon us.

Whether Westminster or Holyrood, elected governments and parliaments are to be heeded by the citizens. They make the laws. In effect, they issue orders.

We can lobby. We can cajole. We can demonstrate. We can protest, peacefully. But, ultimately, if we fail to persuade, we must acquiesce. We must obey.

I believe that fundamental fact of democracy has tended to be lost of late. Some demonstrators seem to feel they are entitled to be heeded simply because they hold to their cause with vigour and verve.

In effect, they are saying to legislators: listen to us, solely; ignore your wider mandate. That is, of course, the very antithesis of popular democracy.

You will hear it said that to constrain protest is to curb freedom of speech. Once again, that is to misunderstand the scope of our freedom. It is not absolute, it is relative.


Read more by Brian Taylor


In the natural world, absolute freedom for the mongoose means death for the snake. Similarly, we are not free to wish harm or mortality upon our fellow citizens. Our freedom is rightly limited. Legislators and courts must adjudicate where freedoms compete.

That concept is, I believe, deliberately contested on social media. Some, honestly motivated or otherwise, advocate complete liberty, a form of ungoverned anarchy.

The First Minister, John Swinney, has now written to online companies challenging them “to combat the spread of misinformation and to address racist and hateful material on their platforms.”

That line has, of course, also been pursued by UK Ministers. We shall watch with interest to see what, if anything, emerges.

However, we might also contemplate a related matter. Misinformation and disinformation thrive in an atmosphere where people are prepared to lend credence to the claims featured on social media, perhaps from prejudice, perhaps from intuitive fear.

I believe there is a broader, underlying issue here. I am struck by the extent to which objective facts are sometimes questioned and undermined.

You will hear people say: that is your truth, I hold to another version. Even when there is demonstrable evidence to back up events. We have become socially inured to the concept of rival realities.

That matters. It contributes to the lack of trust in our political institutions. Actually, it may emerge from that lack of confidence. We are to some extent a troubled, anxious society, reluctant to believe words or deeds.

Still, our political leaders responded well this week. I mentioned John Swinney who reassured faith leaders, involved opposition leaders and promised readiness to respond, should the rioting spread to Scotland.

The Prime Minister, Sir Keir Starmer, confronted a huge challenge, so early in office. He kept the messages simple and clear. Violence would not be tolerated. The police would detain law-breakers. Stiff penalties would follow – as indeed they have.

No doubt Sir Keir’s past experience as Director of Public Prosecutions helped greatly. But he adhered to an admirably firm line, as did his colleagues. He merits praise.

Which brings me finally to the most significant context of all: the social and political soup from which these riots emerged.

It is only a matter of weeks since the issue of immigration played a dominant role in the UK General Election. Rishi Sunak defended his record – and his Rwanda plan. Sir Keir Starmer excoriated the Tory strategy – but also promised to reduce net migration, partly by enhanced job training for existing UK citizens.

Be quite clear. I am not remotely saying that this discourse justified or prompted the events of the past week. These riots were driven by prejudice and racism, simple but never pure.

However, it is possible to argue that citizens on the sidelines, especially in northern English cities, may feel a degree of puzzled disengagement from their changing communities.

I have long argued that there is a revision underway of what it means to be English today. That rethink has manifested itself in Brexit, in confusion about the standing of the UK – and in disquiet over migration.

Let us hope these communities and others can overcome suspicion, disown prejudice and learn to live in harmony.

Much more to the point, though, some of our fellow citizens now live in heightened fear. Humza Yousaf – a decent man, “about as Scottish as you come” – questions whether his family can remain in Scotland.

That, above all, cannot pass. That, above all, cannot endure.