Britain’s culture of “tolerance” helped create Reform’s moment

Picture from BBC via: Sir John Curtice: The map that reveals the extent of Reform's triumph - BBC News

In March this year, the public celebration of iftar and prayer in Trafalgar Square prompted a predictable backlash, with critics claiming it was evidence that Islam is coming to dominate Britain. In response, the Prime Minister sought to steady the debate, insisting that Britain is “a tolerant country”. On the surface, the sentiment sounds inclusive, but the politics behind this language reveal a deeper problem: Britain continues to celebrate tolerance as a national virtue, when it should be fostering acceptance.

To tolerate something is to endure it. It is, by definition, the bare minimum, a passive, almost grudging concession. Yet in Britain, tolerance has been elevated into a civic ideal, a measure of moral virtue. So why, as a citizen, should I aspire merely to be tolerated? I do not seek to be grudgingly put up with, rather, I seek recognition as an equal participant in society, acknowledged for who I am without caveat or compromise.

"...Britain’s political language has conditioned people to see difference as something to be tolerated..."

This is more than a debate on semantics. When politicians frame diversity as something to be “tolerated”, they implicitly cast difference as a burden, something to manage, not embrace. I argue that tolerance has set the bar low, signalling that inclusion is conditional, fragile, and always at risk of being withdrawn. Britain has spent decades telling itself that multiculturalism succeeds so long as communities can peacefully “put up” with one another. But a society built on tolerance rather than acceptance is one that is permanently vulnerable to resentment.

That vulnerability is now reshaping British politics. Reform UK’s success in the local elections on 7 May, where the party capture around 1,500 council seats, did not emerge in a vacuum. Nor can it simply be explained away as a protest vote against economic stagnation or distrust in Westminster. Rather, Reform’s rise reflects something deeper: a growing belief that diversity has become an imposition rather than a shared national reality. That belief flourishes precisely because Britain’s political language has conditioned people to see difference as something to be tolerated, rather than something inherently woven into the fabric of modern Britain.

"A culture of tolerance inevitably implies limits."

A culture of tolerance inevitably implies limits, as diversity is framed as something the nation generously permits, and therefore the permission can also be withdrawn. Politicians such as Nigel Farage understand this perfectly. Reform UK thrives by arguing that Britain has reached the limits of what it can tolerate: too much migration, too much multiculturalism, too much visible difference in public life. The groundwork for this politics was not laid solely by the populist right, but by decades of mainstream rhetoric that presented coexistence as an act of restraint rather than mutual belonging.

Labour under Keir Starmer seems eager to claim the moral high ground, yet symbolic gestures such as public iftar events often serve more as political signalling than evidence of genuine inclusion. These moments imply that difference is exceptional, provisional, and contingent on goodwill. 'Tolerance', after all, is conditional: welcome today, acceptable only if convenient tomorrow. Whereas 'acceptance', signals that diversity is a normal, embedded, and indispensable part of the national identity.

'Tolerance', after all, is conditional: welcome today, acceptable only if convenient tomorrow.

The consequences of normalising tolerance over acceptance are already visible in everyday life. Media narratives, political rhetoric, and casual conversations reinforce the sense that minorities, or the perpetual “other”, exist at the margins, to be “put up with” rather than fully embraced. When society frames belonging as something conditional, economic uncertainty and political opportunism quickly turn anxiety into hostility. Tolerance alone cannot sustain a cohesive society because it does not create solidarity rather, it merely suppresses conflict until pressure exposes the cracks beneath.

Historically, Britain has prided itself on pluralism, yet the language of tolerance has often coexisted with structural exclusion. Communities have been invited to “fit in” without fully shaping what British identity itself might become. Public celebrations of difference, while symbolically significant, rarely translate into real power or representation. The result is a society that congratulates itself for symbolic gestures while leaving underlying hierarchies intact.

"A political culture built around tolerance was always likely to produce backlash eventually..."

Language matters because it shapes political imagination. Words are not simply neutral descriptors, but they structure how society understands belonging. By celebrating tolerance, it has long been suggested that inclusion is optional, contingent, and earned, while acceptance suggests that belonging is inherent and unconditional. A political culture built around tolerance was always likely to produce backlash eventually, because it quietly reinforces the idea that some people belong more naturally than others.

Simply reframing the conversation is not a solution. While structural inequality, economic disparity, and social marginalisation remain pressing challenges, the language we use however, influences how those challenges are perceived and addressed. A political culture that prizes acceptance over tolerance would embed diversity into the very idea of Britain, rather than treating it as a temporary concession. It would shift the burden from marginalised communities having to prove their worth to society, toward society recognising them as integral participants in national life.

"Tolerance was always too weak a foundation on which to build a shared national identity."

The stakes are real. Reform UK’s electoral gains should not simply alarm progressives because of what they say about the far right, but they should force a reckoning with the inadequacy of Britain’s own multicultural language. A nation that has for decades taught its citizens to tolerate one another should not be surprised when resentment eventually flourishes. Tolerance was always too weak a foundation on which to build a shared national identity. If Britain truly wants to be proud of its pluralism, it must stop congratulating itself for tolerating difference.

Tolerance should never have been starting point or the endpoint, it should always have been acceptance. Such a shift now requires politicians to speak differently, act differently, and work to construct a society where everyone belongs not despite their differences, but because of them. Only by moving beyond tolerance can Britain begin to undo the conditions that allowed Reform UK to flourish in the first place.