In October 2023, I was invited to the Battle of Ideas. The pro Palestine marches had only just begun. At one point, on my way there on the first day, some of the marchers spotted the crucifix around my neck and surrounded me, shouting, “After Saturday comes Sunday.” It was the first time I had ever heard the phrase and I had no idea what it meant. I know now. It meant, “When we’ve finished with the Jews, we’re coming for the Christians.” The following morning, on my way back to the Battle of Ideas, I passed the statue of Boudicca, a woman whose young daughters were raped by an invading army, and who, so enraged by what had been done to them and to her people, raised an enormous Celtic army, marched on Roman London and burned it to the ground. Her statue now stands on Westminster Bridge, looking towards Parliament, a permanent reminder of what happens when a mother, and a people, are pushed beyond endurance. That Sunday morning, Boudicca had been covered in flags and graffiti. I was absolutely furious. I tried desperately to climb up and pull them down myself, but the statue was simply too high. I asked people passing to help me, and a few tried, but none of us could reach them. So, in a bit of a panic, I called @LozzaFox and told him what had happened. Without a second thought he said, “I’ll be there in ten minutes with a ladder.” And he was. He didn’t actually have a ladder, as it turned out, so we commandeered one from a nearby stall, and without hesitation he climbed up and started pulling down the flags that had been draped over Boudicca. I remember feeling physically sick looking at it, because this wasn’t some random statue to me. This was Boudicca, a woman and a mother whose daughters had been violated, who refused to submit quietly, and who became one of the most powerful symbols of resistance in British history. She is the woman and mother many of us would hope we could become if, God forbid, our own children were ever harmed. As I now watch what is happening across France, as I see images of Joan of Arc being desecrated, and watch ordinary people fighting against those trying to erase, vandalise and destroy the history and culture around them, I keep thinking back to that morning in London. I remember the physical revulsion and genuine emotional upset I felt seeing one of our national heroes treated like that. And I understand exactly why people are angry. Our statues remind us of who we are and who we need to be. Tearing them down, desicrating them, vandelising them is telling you what they would happily do to you. Laurence Fox scales monument to tear down Palestine flag | Politics | News | Express.co.uk express.co.uk/news/politics/…