Yorkshire Day and a Flag That Behaves Itself

Here we are, then. The World Cup finished weeks ago, the face paint is long gone, yet flags are still tie-wrapped to lamp-posts and hung from windows like a rash that will not clear up. During the football, everyone let it slide. Bunting, jolly, harmless. The tournament is over now, though, and flags remain, and the mood has curdled from carnival to something closer to a warning.

A flag left flying after the party has ended stops being celebration. It starts looking like a demand. Fly this, or else.

There is something almost touching about it, in a grim sort of way. A rectangle of cloth becomes armour for anyone convinced that shadowy elites or woke mobs are coming for them. The flag works rather like a child’s comfort blanket, except the child is forty-five and furious about immigration.

Today happens to be Yorkshire Day, which offers a useful comparison. The White Rose flag — or in this case in Bilsdale, the North Riding flag — raises no eye-brows. Nobody rings the council in a panic when they spot one. It’s rather quaint. The Union flag, meanwhile, has been dragged into service by people using it to intimidate their neighbours, and some councils are now sending legal letters about it.

So if your mini-roundabout is still doing its best impression of a border checkpoint, courtesy of a St George’s Cross, have a think. Swap it for a Yorkshire flag instead. The worst row you will start with that one is over whether the pudding batter needs resting.

Ee baa gum.