Challenging Divisive Narratives Confronting Far-Right Extremism in the UK Building narratives that unite us

Content warning: this piece contains mentions of racism, Islamophobia, Nazism and genocide

The recent wave of far-right extremism in the UK—manifesting as violent riots targeting mosques, places of refuge, Muslims, and people of colour—has been deeply troubling to watch. But for many, ourselves included, the events are unsurprising. These racist attacks resulted from years of divisive narratives pushed by the media and politicians, and repeated excessively throughout UK society.

Divisive Narratives

What do we mean when we use the term ‘narratives’? Narratives are a collection or system of stories, refined over time. They are the gradual building up of worldviews, values, and common sense through the refinement of stories. Narratives create and sustain the dominant culture and common sense. (Read more about narratives and narrative change here and take a look at this helpful wave model for narrative change.)

So in the case of this summer’s racist violence, we can see anti-migrant and racist narratives, fuelled by an underlying belief that the root of Western-societal problems lies with those who are not white – and particularly with newcomers.

In recent years a barrage of headlines have blamed ‘illegals’ for everything from homelessness, joblessness, and rape. Meanwhile, the previous Conservative government led a policy agenda explicitly aimed at creating a ‘hostile environment’ for migrants, while the current Labour government continues to talk about a ‘small boat crisis’, promising to bring down migration levels, and doing little to counter the racist and dehumanising depictions of people seeking safety in the UK.

Alongside this, the hard right has been driving division by perpetuating the claim that ‘the Government’ is not listening to the concerns of ‘ordinary (white) people’. Since 2014 Nigel Farage has claimed that white, working-class people have become an ‘underclass’, with countless right-wing commentators claiming that immigrants and people of colour are being prioritised instead.

All of these things together created a narrative landscape and public mood, ripe for far-right groups and individuals to seize upon and exploit. After the tragic murders of three young girls by a British-born Rwandan teen, they quickly spread false stories, portraying him as a Muslim migrant. These fabricated claims incited anger and fear, serving as a rallying cry for the riots.

These horrifying actions put already marginalised communities at even further risk of state and citizen violence. Globally, Muslims, migrants, and people of colour—particularly those with ties to Blackness—bear the brunt of this violent extremism. In writing this, we stand in power and solidarity with those who fear for their safety and that of their loved ones, and with all who are grappling with the broader implications of these events.

The far-right movement has been fueled by a complex web of narratives that have grown increasingly powerful over time. While the media often singles out figures like Tommy Robinson, Katie Hopkins, and Alex Jones, focusing on individuals can distract from the broader, more significant narrative forces at play. The real question is: how did these figures gain a platform in the first place?

Katie Hopkins, who infamously parroted Nazi rhetoric by calling for a ‘final solution’ after the Manchester bombing, gained her platform precisely because of her hateful, anti-migrant, and xenophobic rhetoric. Although she was banned from Twitter and eventually lost her position at LBC due to backlash from her incendiary discourse, deep-seated narratives of division paved the way for her disturbing prominence.

Media coverage of the summer’s racist violence frequently blames Tommy Robinson for inciting it. While he undeniably played a key instigating role, the coverage often overlooks the underlying factors that elevated him to such a position of power and influence. Robinson’s rise coincided with a surge in ‘explicit racial, ethnic, and religious intolerance’ that followed the Brexit referendum. After the Leave campaign’s success, the UK saw a 41% increase in reported racist attacks. Far-right actors and their supporters were emboldened, feeling justified in their xenophobia, spurred by the campaign’s anti-immigrant sentiments and colonial nostalgia.

We must also consider the role of global narratives in amplifying and intensifying violence in the UK today. In the lead up to this summer’s racist violence, it was particularly distressing that Robinson exploited the Palestinian genocide to spread hateful, Islamophobic rhetoric, mirroring a broader shift toward right-wing nationalism across the Western world. This trend is driven by leaders who capitalise on scapegoating, fear, hate and misinformation to fuel division.

Unworthy Leaders

Many of us from communities targeted by this violence feel both let down and deeply concerned by the apparent unwillingness of influential organisations and the mainstream media to acknowledge the roots of the problem. For years, marginalised groups have raised alarms, hoping these institutions would recognise how harmful narratives of division have long enabled this violence. It is heartbreaking to see that our leaders are often complicit, perpetuating the very Islamophobic and racist rhetoric that fuels these divisions.

The hypocrisy of our leadership is glaring. Former UK Prime Minister Boris Johnson, for example, made Islamophobic and racist remarks about the Srebrenica genocide, undermining his own calls for unity. While his official statements said we must ‘work together to eliminate prejudice and discrimination so that we can create a safer and more hopeful future for everyone,’ his words ring hollow in the face of such hypocrisy. It has emboldened far-right extremists, who seeing leaders face no accountability for their racist remarks, feel justified in making dangerous and horrifying calls for coordinated violence—even going so far as to justify the prospect of genocide, and making calls for “Srebrenica 2.0”.

It is a sobering reminder that atrocities like the Srebrenica and Palestinian genocides don’t happen overnight; they are the result of years of unchecked prejudice and racist rhetoric, acting as poisonous tiles in societies’ narrative mosaics. The parallels with current events are too stark to ignore: The Islamophobic and racist riots we’ve witnessed on our streets did not arise in a vacuum; they have been stoked by years of toxic, divisive language from politicians, sections of the media, and social media platforms. We must hold those who  promote and support Islamophobia, hate, and division accountable.

Seeds of Hope

The rise in authoritarian, xenophobic and isolationist narratives have deep roots, and they harm us all. Communities which have survived generations of marginalisation and trauma are often the deepest impacted by these harmful narratives. Those running our governments and institutions have been using these crises as narrative opportunities to normalise regressive policies and shape a new common sense.

But moments of crisis also create opportunities for counter-narratives to take hold. Slogans such as ‘We did not come to Britain. Britain came to us,’ have become a staple on anti-racist protest placards. The Runnymeade’s report on Race, Class and Institutional Prejudice, The UK Race Class Narrative report, NEON’s Messaging Guide on Far Right Violence, and PIRC’s own The Narratives We Need are just a few publications which offer readers practical ways to move beyond racist narratives.

We can see seeds of hope in movements like Black Lives Matter and in communities coming together in resistance to this violence; in the growing public discourse over decolonisation and reparations and widespread efforts to shed light on the colonial history of British immigration.

We have a long way to go to shift deep, xenophobic narratives across Britain. At PIRC, we believe this is where narrative strategy comes in: sharing connected stories to forge, spread and reinforce healing, amplifying beneficial narratives and countering harmful ones, and shifting deep cultural assumptions for the long haul. We accomplish this through narrative organising, beautifully explained by our friends at Narrative Initiative:

Narrative organising is the act of building, creating and using narrative to shift power towards justice, equity and democracy. Narrative without organizing is a collection of observations and stories. Narrative without organizing leaves narrative power to others.”

All of us have a part to play in strengthening the stories that unite us; building the collective power necessary to create a just, vibrant, equitable and caring society for everyone—regardless of where we were born and whether we are Black, brown or white.