Why Britain Needs National Service — and Why Young People Should Embrace It

Rebuilding Britain's Future Through Duty, Discipline, and Shared Purpose

Britain is coming apart at its seams. Our social fabric is fraying, our political discourse is increasingly extreme, and many young people no longer feel pride in their country. Against this backdrop, the idea of National Service — recently dismissed as outdated — deserves a second look.

In the final weeks leading up to the July 2024 General Election, then–Prime Minister Rishi Sunak unveiled a bold proposal to reintroduce National Service. Framed as an effort to instil discipline, unity, and civic pride among Britain's youth, the policy quickly dominated headlines and became one of the most talked-about proposals of the campaign. Yet despite its rhetorical ambition, it ultimately failed to connect with the very demographic it sought to engage: young people. Polling by YouGov at the time painted a stark picture—just 10% of young voters supported the idea. Whatever its theoretical merits, it was clear that for most young Britons, the age of conscription belonged firmly in the past.

I belong to the 10% minority of young Britons who supported Rishi Sunak's proposal for National Service. In this article, I articulate why I believe it deserves a second look.

There are several reasons as to why I believe national service would be of great benefit not only to young people, but to the country as a whole.

Firstly, national service naturally creates opportunities for developing personal and interpersonal skills. It instils discipline, structure, and responsibility — qualities often undervalued today. Beyond that, it brings people together around a shared goal. Working

alongside others from diverse socioeconomic backgrounds and differing worldviews is a formative experience. It fosters understanding, cohesion, and maturity. In an increasingly divided society, this alone would be invaluable.

But the benefits would not end with the individual. Our armed forces — once the pride of this nation — are now facing real challenges, not least a shortage of recruits and a growing reluctance among young people to consider military service as a serious path. A well-structured national service programme could serve as both a taster and a catalyst, helping to renew interest in public service and strengthening the ranks of our defence at a time when global instability is once again on the rise.

However for me the main case for a national service is the following;

Most people would agree that social cohesion in this country is more frayed than it has been in living memory. One clear indication of this is the rise of increasingly polarised and extreme viewpoints. These voices often dominate public conversation and headlines, attracting the most attention and engagement. Unfortunately, this tends to drown out more moderate, sensible, and carefully considered perspectives, making it harder for balanced debate to flourish.

This polarisation is especially visible among young people. The political figures who command the most attention from younger voters today include individuals as ideologically opposed as Tommy Robinson and Jeremy Corbyn. What they share, however, is their ability to connect directly with young audiences — something that much of the political mainstream has struggled to achieve. Too often, established parties treat younger voters' concerns with indifference or dismissiveness, which only fuels disillusionment and disengagement.

The consequence is a political environment where controversy and division are rewarded with visibility, encouraging more extreme voices to enter the fray. This dynamic risks further deepening societal divides at a time when unity and understanding are desperately needed.

But what worries me most is the positive feedback loop this system appears to be creating. As figures come to see that division and controversy yield attention — not just in the mainstream press but, more importantly, on social media — the incentive grows for ever more fringe and provocative voices to enter the fray. It is in this context that we see figures like Tommy Robinson and Zara Sultana MP gaining traction, not necessarily because of the strength of their ideas, but because of the style of their expression.

This is not just about slogans or street protests. It's about how we got here — and what we do next.

It is deeply disturbing that, week after week, we have grown accustomed to hearing some of the most troubling and inflammatory slogans echoed through the streets of our capital, in Manchester, and across many of our major cities. That antisemitic incidents have now reached their highest level on record since the October 7 massacre by Hamas is not just alarming — it is a national disgrace.

Yet this is only symptomatic of the wider picture. It is not only Britain's Jewish community who are bearing the brunt of this increasingly toxic and polarised climate. Ordinary citizens — everyday people going about their lives — are now routinely forced to watch as our streets are taken over each Saturday by groups, often operating under the banner of ANTIFA, who not only excuse the most radical rhetoric but also openly denigrate the history and very identity of our tremendous nation, tearing down statues and other national symbols that many hold dear.

This is no longer just a debate about foreign policy or protest. It is a broader question about what kind of nation we are becoming — and whether we are willing to defend the values that once held us together.

My view is that the very fabric of our country is being quickly eroded. I do not say this to inflame or provoke — far from it. I say it simply as an observation of what I believe is unfolding before our eyes. As I outlined earlier, the growing prominence of polarising figures such as Zara Sultana and Tommy Robinson, the rise in the extremist vote, and the increasing tendency to apologise for our history rather than understand it — these are not isolated trends. This tendency is evident in recent public debates over how British history is taught in schools, where emphasis on colonial abuses often overshadows a more balanced view of Britain's complex past. The growing movement to remove statues of historical figures associated with empire and slavery — exemplified by the toppling of Edward Colston's statue in Bristol — reflects this shift towards symbolic acts of apology.

We are also witnessing the emergence of new, sectarian political blocs; the open calls for a 'globalised intifada' and even cries of jihad on British streets; the attacks on synagogues and mosques alike. All of these, taken together, represent more than just a series of concerning developments. They are, I fear, clear signs of a deeper erosion of the social and cultural fabric that has long bound this country together.

When we turn to the data, the picture becomes harder to ignore. Nearly half of British Muslims report greater sympathy for Hamas than for Israel. Now, I want to be clear — I can understand, even if I profoundly disagree with, those who hold reservations about the IDF's ongoing campaign in Gaza. There is room for difficult, principled debate. But to suggest moral equivalence between a democratic state and a terrorist organisation that executes homosexuals, uses civilians as shields, and kills indiscriminately both Israelis and Palestinians — that is not only a moral failure, it is deeply un-British.

Let us be clear about what Britain stands for. This is a country rooted in Western democratic values: secularism, the rule of law, human rights, freedom of thought, and the capacity for open and civil disagreement. For a country like ours, so firmly grounded in these principles, to discover that a significant share of our population expresses sympathy for a theocratic, violent terrorist group represents a genuine identity crisis. It is yet another sign of the erosion of our national values.

None of this is to suggest that international issues — including the conflict in Gaza — are irrelevant or unworthy of attention. They matter, and it is entirely understandable that people feel strongly about them. But solidarity with suffering abroad must not come at the expense of clarity about who our allies are, or what our values demand. Britain is a democracy, and Israel — for all its flaws — is a fellow democracy facing a genocidal terrorist threat. That distinction matters. Moral seriousness means being willing to draw those hard lines. And civic seriousness means recognising that our first duty is to each other: to our fellow citizens, and to the democratic values that bind us together.

Political disagreement must remain protected — but it must also remain principled. For debate to be meaningful, it must be grounded in mutual respect and a shared civic framework. When imported conflicts are used to sow sectarian division, or when extreme rhetoric threatens public order and social cohesion, it doesn't just polarise — it corrodes the very conditions that make open debate possible in the first place.

As this erosion of common ground continues, sectarian politics is taking hold in new and troubling ways. In the July 2024 general election, several candidates — including Leanne Mohamad in Ilford North, where she mounted a serious challenge to Shadow Health Secretary Wes Streeting — ran campaigns defined almost entirely by their stance on Gaza.

Similar dynamics were at play in Leicester South and Birmingham Perry Barr, where independent candidates campaigned almost exclusively on their condemnation of Israel and support for Palestine.

To be clear, it is not inherently wrong to vote based on a single issue. British democracy rightly gives citizens the freedom to prioritise what matters most to them. But when that issue becomes a litmus test of religious or ethnic identity — when a candidate's position on a foreign conflict is treated as a measure of loyalty or betrayal — we risk replacing political deliberation with sectarian alignment. That shift undermines the pluralistic spirit of British democracy.

The concern is not that people care about Gaza — they have that right. The concern is when political identity becomes so narrowly tied to imported grievances that it eclipses the local, national, and civic responsibilities that politics is meant to reflect. When voters are told — explicitly or implicitly — that their faith or background obliges them to vote one way, democracy becomes less about shared values and more about entrenched tribalism.

We should not be ashamed to be proud of our country — a nation that has, on the whole, been an overwhelmingly positive force in modern global history. To adopt the posture of constant apology, as some now do, is both unwise and unjust. Of course, no national story is without its blemishes, and it is right — even necessary — to acknowledge those moments in our past that fall short of our ideals.

But to focus solely on our failings, and in doing so overlooking the immense good that Britain has done — from advancing democracy and the rule of law to contributing hugely to science, literature, culture, and the defeat of tyranny such as Nazi Germany — is to a disservice not just to our past, but to our present and future as well. Pride and self-reflection are not mutually exclusive. A mature nation, like a mature individual, must be capable of both.

Another troubling sign of the erosion of our cultural fabric is the growing controversy surrounding something as basic and unifying as our national flag. The St George's flag — once a straightforward emblem of identity and pride — has, in recent years, become a subject of suspicion and division. That, frankly, is outrageous.

We should be able to take pride in our national symbols without hesitation or embarrassment. The flag ought to represent unity, heritage, and shared purpose — not provoke anxiety or derision. At a time when so many are unsure of who we are or what we stand for, we must remind ourselves of the values and achievements that make this country what it is. Britain is, for all its imperfections, a great nation — and it is no small thing to say that we should be proud to be British.

In an age when social cohesion is fragile, disdain for our nation has, in some quarters, become fashionable, and some seem to prioritise causes abroad over the country they call home, the case for national service becomes even more compelling. It is entirely valid and even noble to support global causes, including the defense of Israel, Ukraine, and our other allies, but the challenge lies in ensuring that this support does not eclipse the values and principles that bind us as Britons. Unfortunately, the disproportionate attention given to Gaza

— at the expense of the very values that define our nation — highlights just how easily some can lose sight of the principles that should unite us. We must strive for unity that upholds both our commitment to global justice and our duty to protect and strengthen the nation we share.

At a time when there is a growing tendency to apologise for who we are, and to downplay the values and identity that have shaped Britain for generations, a carefully structured programme of national service could offer young people something profoundly valuable. It would not only instil a sense of discipline and civic duty, but also foster a renewed connection to the country — to the idea that being British is something meaningful, and even something to be proud of.

Imagine a service in which young people from every corner of the country come together — not only to give back to their communities, but to gain essential life skills: communication, discipline, the ability to follow instruction, and the value of hard work. These are qualities that employers across the nation consistently seek — and that our society sorely needs.

But more than that, such a service would offer something greater: a common unifier. Regardless of one's religion, ethnicity, or background, participants would be bound together by something simple yet powerful — our shared Britishness. United under one flag, contributing to one society, with a renewed understanding that what we have in common far outweighs what sets us apart.

Patriotism must not become a relic of the past — nor should values like social cohesion, discipline, and courage. A well-designed and thoughtfully implemented national service could help ensure that these ideals are not only preserved, but passed on to the next generation with renewed purpose.

A service in which people from all walks of life stand together — wearing the same uniform, singing the national anthem, and working towards a shared set of principles — would, I believe, serve us all. It would strengthen us individually, instilling character and confidence, and it would strengthen the nation by reminding us that there is still something greater that binds us together.

It is time to revisit the idea — not with haste, but with care. We must consider, in a measured and thoughtful way, how to design a form of national service that is both safe and effective, but also one that fulfils its deeper purpose: fostering a renewed sense of Britishness, unity, and shared civic responsibility.

Just as important is how we communicate it. This must not be framed as a punishment, nor as a throwback to military conscription for foreign wars. It should be presented honestly and clearly — as a positive opportunity, a practical and moral good, and a necessary step toward rebuilding the bonds that hold our society together.

I do not offer this as a politically partisan message, because patriotism, the strength of our armed forces, and the preservation of our national fabric should be beyond party politics. These are questions that go beyond ideology — they speak to who we are as a people, and what kind of country we want to be.

It is time, calmly and confidently, to safeguard what binds us together. It is time to consider, seriously and constructively, the case for national service.

Originally published https://conservativepost.co.uk/why-britain-needs-national-service-and-why-young-people-should-embrace-it/