For John Fisher, the racist vandalism at The Dragon House Chinese restaurant in York was an attack on England. Speaking out to his over 62,000 followers on X, Fisher, otherwise known as Big John, Bosh Soldier, said, “Where is this takeaway? I wouldn’t mind visiting to show support.” Fisher was responding to a local man, a window cleaner, who had gone down to scrub off the graffiti, which included “Go Home” scrawled alongside badly drawn St George’s flags. “Well done to the window cleaning company for helping out,” Big John added.
Big John, as his X bio says, is “Leader of the Bosh Soldiers of the Romford Bull Army. Dad to heavyweight boxer Johnny, and Henry, William, and Hetty.” And if that is no clarification, he is England’s spiritual leader when it comes to the Saturday night Chinese takeaway. He is an influencer whose main output is videos of him ordering and then eating orders from his local takeaway, accompanied by the catchphrase “bosh”. He has a huge following and is widely seen as an English everyman, a very modern John Bull.
And in his response and subsequent posts, as well as his appearance on Newsnight on Friday, this everyman has managed to do something no politician has since the recent uptick in racist attacks. In a very ordinary and everyday way, he managed to speak up for a kind of modern English identity, one that is both accepting of difference and proud of its communities and nation.
In recent months, it has felt that the towns of England, many of which prided themselves on wearing their identity lightly, have adopted a tone and rhetoric more characteristic of Belfast, where flags and competing ideologies fight for supremacy. It should go without saying that it’s possible to be a proud Englishman or woman without the need to force onto others a defined vision of what that England might be. After all, tolerating different stories has its own tradition. And yet, recently, it seems that politics, and in particular the progressive side of politics, has struggled to meet the moment.
Our politicians have instead turned to an embarrassing bidding war on how many flags they have. “I always sit in front of a flag,” the Prime Minister told us. The former Home Secretary, Yvette Cooper, claimed she had hundreds of them, all over her shed. At a moment of real crisis, leading figures in the government have seemed unable to speak up or embody a vision of Englishness that millions (including the vast majority of their voters) align with. Polling from More in Common shows that, while 58 per cent of Britons do support the flying of English and British flags, and do want to see immigration levels reduced, they overwhelmingly reject the use of violent protest outside of asylum hotels (only 8 per cent viewed it as acceptable) and or the rise in racist language used to talk about migrants.
But why is it that a social media star like Big John is able to connect with the public and tackle the knotty crisis of the moment, while politicians find it so hard? Well, for one, John hasn’t sought to impose his ideology or speak about some abstract historical event or figure. He doesn’t claim some grand moral vision or seek out political rhetoric. He speaks authentically about the community he’s from and his love of a particular aspect of modern England.
Authenticity sits at the heart of his message. And in an age when brands, culture, and sports mobilise ordinary messages which rely on authenticity, John is doing just that, speaking from the heart about something we all share: a cheeky Chinese and being decent to one another, no matter their background. At the same time, political newspeak remains firmly rooted in the abstract. Meaningless lines are given and empty speeches made. This leaves politicians unable to reach the public or tell a story.
Yet it matters that politicians seem unable or unwilling to share their own genuine, personal love of modern Britain. Into the void comes another story, narrow and excluding millions. When our shared story is under sustained attack, this matters. In a world where X and other platforms enable the flourishing of a new kind of rage-industrial complex, we need competing stories and content. And while these platforms allow for hate and division, they also allow for other, more positive, uplifting stories, the ones about people working together, facing hardship with care and compassion for one another.
Recently, the UCL Policy Lab, More in Common, and Citizens UK conducted their own research following last year’s riots. The This Place Matters project is rooted in place, led by community organisations and individuals who responded to the violence and continue to work in their communities. What the team found was a Britain that felt lonelier and more isolated, yet also one that showed a genuine love and passion for the people and places around them. And that included places of mixed and non-mixed identities. Even in times of upheaval and strife, they had faith in their local voices, their authentic stories, not imposed ideas of bunting or national holidays.
For Keir Starmer or other politicians to respond to the growing division and isolation, they must speak about these people, lend them their platform, and stand up for them: their decency, love of community, and country. Big John’s appearance on Newsnight, in which he said, “I’m associated with Chinese takeaways, but I would have felt the same if it were an Indian, Caribbean, Mexican, Greek, or Turkish one. People who are working here shouldn’t be targeted like that; nobody should be targeted like that.” has garnered over 12 million views on X alone.
It all shows there is a country, or at least part of it, yearning to transcend the tidal wave of rage, hate, and division – a country that can care about migration while respecting one another’s differences and hold its patriotism lightly. It just requires someone to speak for England in the way John Fisher has.
[See also: Is Lucy Connolly a normal person?]






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