We British

I could change my Dutch surname – lop off a few syllables, change it to something like Burgess, maybe even throw in a cricket reference – and no one would bat an eyelid. To most, I'd be indistinguishable from your average Brit. My accent doesn’t give me away, my habits don’t stand out, and my cultural references are well in line with the pub quiz crowd. I’d qualify as 100% British. No questions asked.

But here's the thing: a person of colour could do the exact same thing – speak with a cut-glass accent, know all the words to “Jerusalem,” and have a name like James Smith – and they'd still be greeted with a raised eyebrow by a sizeable chunk of the population. Not because of anything they've done, but because of the colour of their skin. And that's the quiet hypocrisy of British identity.

For all the talk about Britain being a multicultural society, the reality is that many people cling to a narrow, outdated notion of what a Brit looks like. Spoiler alert: it's usually white, with a surname you can trace back to the Domesday Book. If you're white and vaguely European, you're already halfway in. Think of names like Kowalski, Schmidt, or Rossi – all of which are now fairly unremarkable on the British landscape, their origins forgotten or ignored once they fit neatly onto a tax return. Even Huguenot names like Martineau and Duval slipped seamlessly into the British narrative, their foreignness washed away by time and convenience. Throw in an anglicised surname and a fondness for marmalade, and you're practically hosting the village fete.

Meanwhile, people of colour (or looking Chinese) born and raised in Britain, who’ve never known another home, are still met with suspicion. There’s always that underlying “Where are you really from?” question lurking, no matter how perfect their grasp of British cultural cues. It’s not about language or integration. It’s about appearance – pure and simple.

The truth is, Britishness has never been a static concept. It’s evolved over centuries, shaped by Celts, Romans, Saxons, Normans, and every wave of immigration since. There’s no such thing as a native Briton – not really. Yet some people insist on clinging to this imaginary ideal, a fixed notion of British identity that conveniently excludes anyone who doesn’t fit the mould. It’s a fantasy, a comforting myth for those who fear change.

The hypocrisy is even more glaring when you realise that “integration” discussions almost never target white Europeans. No one’s fretting about whether the bloke named Jörg from Bavaria is British enough. But if someone with darker skin claims British identity? Suddenly, it’s a national crisis.

Let’s call it what it is: racism dressed up as cultural concern. It’s the last bastion of an empire that’s long since crumbled. The British Empire may be gone, but its ghost lingers on in these unspoken biases. The idea that Britishness is reserved for those who "look the part" is absurd when you consider how varied and diverse Britain has always been.

And yet, here come Farage and his merry band of culture warriors, banging the drum of the past and lamenting the loss of some mythical Britain that never really existed. The irony, of course, is that even Farage himself is of foreign descent – his Huguenot ancestors fled persecution in France and settled here. Reform UK, the latest iteration of this nostalgic nonsense, pitches itself as a party of common sense but barely hides its dog-whistle politics. They’re quick to wrap themselves in the flag, but their vision of Britishness is narrow, exclusive, and, frankly, tedious. It’s a rallying cry for those who yearn for a Britain that’s long gone – or never was.

It's time to bin the outdated definitions and acknowledge that British identity is, and always has been, a patchwork quilt. If you're here, if you belong, if you contribute – that's British enough. It’s not about surnames, accents, or how long your family’s been here. It’s about who you are now, in this moment.

So no, I won’t be anglicising my surname. But maybe it’s time the definition of Britishness caught up with reality.