Canceling Easter

NASSER HUSSAIN APRIL 9, 2025

There’s no doubt that the so-called “woke” march toward cultural domination suffered a setback after the 2024 presidential election. But any suggestion of a major vibe shift may be premature. In England, an elementary school decided to cancel its Easter celebrations in the name of “diversity and inclusion,” reminding us of the enduring institutional strength of this ideology. 

Instead of Easter, the school opted to commemorate “Refugee Week,” a gesture meant to celebrate inclusivity. But to position these two events in opposition—to replace one with the other—only deepens social divisions and stokes identitarian resentments. One might reasonably wonder whether such decisions are still naive missteps or have taken on a more deliberate, ideological character.

It was only last summer when violent riots erupted across the country after Axel Rudakubana stabbed three girls to death in Southport. ​​Though his immigration status was disputed, the violence that followed—targeting migrants and culminating in the burning of a hotel housing asylum seekers—was unjustifiable. But it also signaled a rupture in the social contract. Many Britons feel that decisions shaping their cultural and communal life are now made without their consent, by a political elite increasingly insulated from the world they govern. In the absence of shared norms or a coherent narrative of belonging, legitimacy frays—and with it, the bonds that hold a society together. The philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre once warned that, without shared traditions, moral debate collapses into a battle of preferences. The violence in Southport didn’t emerge in a vacuum—it surfaced amid a society that no longer agrees on what the good life looks like, or who gets to define it.

Across the country, people—regardless of faith—are already grappling with a loss of community and meaning in their lives, driven by a combination of economic dislocation, digital isolation, and the weakening of traditional institutions like churches, unions, and the rooted neighborhood. This moral and social hollowing out leaves individuals more vulnerable to ideological polarization—and more likely to interpret symbolic gestures, like canceling Easter, as attacks on an already fraying social fabric. 

The headmistress justified the decision as a gesture made “in the spirit of inclusivity and respect for diverse religious beliefs.” The implicit suggestion is that Easter might offend religious minorities—Muslims, in particular. But nothing could be further from the truth. Most Muslims do not object to Easter celebrations in schools. On the contrary, Jesus is deeply revered in Islam. The real story here is not religious sensitivity, but the ideological commitments of a liberal class increasingly untethered from both history and community. For many in this milieu, traditions like Easter are seen not as sources of shared meaning but as relics of an exclusionary past. Acknowledging them risks reasserting the moral authority of older forms of life—local, national, and religious—over the borderless, managerial vision they champion. In their eyes, loyalty to any particular tradition threatens the universalizing ambitions of a global, secular order built around abstract rights and bureaucratic inclusion.

To frame a Christian holiday like Easter as somehow exclusionary or oppressive, while simultaneously championing causes like refugee solidarity, is not only misguided—it’s intellectually incoherent. What happens when refugees themselves are Christian? Or when they find comfort and belonging in shared cultural rituals like Easter? In Britain, racist attacks on immigrants are rarely, if ever, driven by Christian zealotry. More often, they stem from economic anxiety, political disaffection, or social breakdown.

In truth, both Christianity and Islam emphasize hospitality and compassion toward the stranger. Far from being exclusionary, celebrations like Easter can serve as entry points into community for newcomers. They offer forms of social capital—shared rituals, common narratives, and communal gatherings—that help migrants and locals alike feel part of something larger. To strip these away in the name of inclusion is to undermine the very pluralism such policies claim to promote.

So while some may sense a shift in the cultural winds, let’s not mistake vibes for victory. Woke ideology is far from defeated. In institutions like education, its influence remains deeply entrenched—and, as this latest example shows, often out of step with the communities it purports to represent.