My social media feed has been awash with indignation about the Royal British Legion’s Pride poppy badge. You might imagine, from some of the language, that the Legion had abolished remembrance and replaced the Cenotaph with a glitterball. It has, rather more modestly, put a pin badge in its shop.
According to LBC, Reform UK councillor Joseph Boam called it “an insult to every veteran who wore the poppy with pride” and dismissed it as “woke virtue signalling c**p”. That is quite a burden of offence for a small enamel badge to carry. It is also quite a claim to make on behalf of every veteran, some of whom are LGBT themselves.
For the avoidance of suspense, I support the Legion’s decision. I have bought a badge. Two, actually. I have also bought a paper poppy; my contribution to this particular controversy has therefore involved supporting the Royal British Legion three times.
The distinction between the two products matters. The Legion has not replaced the iconic paper poppy. It is selling an optional pin combining a red poppy with a Pride flag, with all profits supporting its work with the Armed Forces community. Anyone who dislikes it can leave it in the shop, an arrangement that has served shoppers reasonably well for generations.
I am happy with the Legion offering different fundraising designs. Its range includes decorative poppies and badges marking particular aspects of service. They will not all appeal to me, but I don’t generally expect a charity’s entire stock to have been selected with my lapel in mind. People choose something meaningful to them, and the charity raises money for its work.
There is, nevertheless, a serious argument worth considering beneath the noise. The red poppy represents everyone who served, irrespective of sexuality, race, religion or political belief. Its simplicity is part of its strength. People bring their own memories to it, and someone who prefers that single, shared symbol can hold that view sincerely. I respect it.
Where I part company with the critics is the assumption that recognising a particular group somehow diminishes everyone else. In this case, there is a history which deserves rather more attention than the word “woke” allows.
Until 2000, gay and lesbian personnel could lose their military careers because of their sexuality. The independent review into that ban documented intrusive investigations and lasting harm. In 2023, the government formally apologised for their treatment. People who had committed themselves to serving this country had been humiliated and rejected by it; some were required to surrender medals recognising the very service they had given.
Against that background, I can see why a visible welcome might matter. Telling someone that the poppy includes everybody is true, but it may offer limited reassurance if their experience of belonging ended with dismissal. The Legion explicitly connects its Pride badge with supporting LGBT personnel and veterans who have experienced discrimination, particularly those who served under the ban. That seems a perfectly sensible connection for an Armed Forces charity to make.
As a gay man, I grew up knowing that being open about your sexuality could close doors. I was fortunate in the support of my family. My life has been very different from those of the veterans concerned, and I would not pretend otherwise; but I can readily understand why an explicit sign of acceptance might mean something to a person who had received quite the opposite message.
Which brings us to “virtue signalling”, an accusation now applied so freely that almost any public expression of kindness risks falling foul of it. Of course a badge signals something. So does a regimental tie, a charity wristband or a paper poppy. That is generally why we wear them.
The useful question is whether there is substance behind the gesture. A badge would be a poor substitute for practical help, but the Legion’s LGBTQ+ and Allies branch offers comradeship and support, including regular calls to vulnerable or lonely members of that community. The pin accompanies that work and helps fund the Legion’s wider services. I think that amounts to rather more than congratulating itself on having a flag.
As for what will appear on my own lapel, when I am representing an organisation or attending in an official capacity, I will wear my paper poppy. On those occasions I am there on behalf of others, and I think the familiar, shared symbol is the appropriate choice.
At other times, when I am simply representing myself, I will be proud to wear the Pride pin. It expresses my respect for those who served and my solidarity with people whose service was met with discrimination. I am comfortable with both choices, and neither requires me to disapprove of someone else’s.
I won’t assume that a person wearing a plain poppy cares less about equality. I would appreciate the same courtesy towards someone wearing the Pride badge. There are veterans who need practical assistance, companionship and recognition, and a charity raising money to provide them. I reckon we could give our attention to that and allow one another a little freedom over the haberdashery.
