It started, as many things do, with a flicker of ambition and a brave ship setting sail. But it grew into something monumental, a sprawling leviathan that truly shaped the modern world. At its zenith in the early 20th century, the British Empire spanned over 35.5 million square kilometres, covering nearly a quarter of the Earth’s total land area. More astonishingly, approximately a quarter of the global population – some 458 million people – lived under British rule, their lives and destinies, laws and economies, inexorably linked to a small island nation thousands of miles away.
From the vast plains of India, the jewel in the imperial crown, to the sun-baked landscapes of Australia and the icy expanses of Canada; from the diamond mines of South Africa to the bustling ports of Hong Kong and the plantations of the Caribbean, the Union Jack flew. Millions woke each day to institutions, customs, and currencies shaped by London. This colossal enterprise wasn’t merely administered from afar; it was populated by Britons. Soldiers, civil servants, traders, missionaries, engineers, and settlers – millions of British citizens, over centuries, fanned out across the globe. They built new lives, established communities, and often, redefined what ‘home’ meant, thousands of miles from their birth nation, confident in their right to settle and prosper wherever the empire extended.
Fast forward to the 21st century, and the British wanderlust persists, albeit in a dramatically different form. The grand imperial migrations have given way to more leisurely, yet equally significant, movements. Today, hundreds of thousands of Britons have chosen to invest in second homes, particularly across the English Channel in the sun-kissed regions of France, Spain, and Portugal. These individuals are not empire-builders; they are property owners, contributors to local economies, and part-time residents, drawn by culture, climate, and the comparatively relaxed pace of life. They are, for all intents and purposes, Britons living abroad, enjoying the benefits of another nation’s prosperity and hospitality.
And here lies a profound, troubling paradox. A nation whose people have, for generations, extended their presence across the globe – sometimes by conquest, often by invitation, always by movement – now grapples with a deeply divisive question of who is ‘allowed’ to reside within its own borders. We have a history of sending our own out into the world, to settle, to work, to retire, to build lives in lands far from Blighty. The British, perhaps more than any other people, have a historical precedent for global mobility.
Yet, today, we witness scenes that shame us: riots, acts of violence, and criminal damage perpetrated against people seeking asylum in Britain. These are individuals and families often fleeing unimaginable horrors – war, persecution, famine, or political terror – desperate for safety and a chance at a new life. They arrive, often with nothing but the clothes on their backs and a plea for help, only to be met by a vocal, sometimes violent, minority screaming ‘go home,’ as if the very act of seeking refuge is an unforgivable intrusion. The outrage is not directed at British citizens buying properties abroad, but at the desperate who arrive seeking shelter.
The contrast between Britons extending across the globe, in pursuit of empire, opportunity, or leisure, and the visceral hostility directed at those seeking sanctuary within Britain, is stark. It forces us to confront uncomfortable truths about national identity, historical amnesia, and our collective humanity. If we, as a nation, have historically embraced the right of our own people to seek new lives and opportunities across distant oceans, how do we reconcile that legacy with the violent rejection of those who arrive on our shores, seeking nothing more than the most basic human right: safety? The story of the British Empire speaks of a deeply globalised past; our present, in some quarters, risks telling a far more insular and unforgiving tale. Perhaps it’s time to remember our own history of global movement, and find a commensurate measure of empathy for those who, through no choice of their own, are simply trying to find a safe harbour in a storm-tossed world.
Worldwide Temple of Aurora 