Manchester United owner Ratcliffe doubles down on racism

Sir Jim Ratcliffe, co-owner of Manchester United, has come under heavy criticism for saying that immigrants are “colonising” the UK. He said:

You can’t have an economy with nine million people on benefits and huge levels of immigrants coming in. I mean, the UK has been colonised. It’s costing too much money.

The UK has been colonised by immigrants, really, hasn’t it?

The racist shithead also claimed that the UK’s population grew by 12 million people in 5 years. That’s bollocks too, as BBC Verify reported:

it’s actually increased by 2.7 million.

And, that statistic doesn’t take into account the economic benefit of immigrants doing all the shitty jobs white people don’t want. And that, in turn, doesn’t take into account that we’re talking about people – people who have a right to safety and welcome.

Manchester United began in 1878 as Newton Heath, formed by railway workers who wanted solidarity and community within industrial labour. The club grew from working-class collectivism. Migrant communities in Manchester sustained it. Players of colour built its modern success. When the co-owner describes immigrants as colonisers, he positions himself against the communities that shaped the institution he now partially controls.

The Politics of His Non-Apology

Keir Starmer waded in to urge Ratcliffe to apologise:

That would be the same man who made the now infamous “island of strangers” speech.

There is something deeply unsettling about watching Britain distance itself from the language of colonisation while still struggling to confront what that word represents in its own history. The state can condemn vocabulary, yet condemnation does not equal reckoning, especially when the same political culture continues to frame immigration through the language of control, pressure, and strain.

Starmer’s objection might sound firm, but it is utterly meaningless when his government are overseeing a hostile environment for immigrants.

His apology doesn’t change his stance

Ratcliffe did eventually apologise, but it was predictably a non-apology:

I am sorry that my choice of language has offended some people in the UK and Europe and caused concern but it is important to raise the issue of controlled and well-managed immigration that supports economic growth.

The apology focused on offence rather than on the framing itself. While discomfort was acknowledged, the imagery of invasion was left untouched. He did not withdraw the claim. He softened it. As a result, the premise stayed in place, only dressed in calmer language.

Language like this does not appear from nowhere, particularly not from someone operating at that level of influence. Words reflect assumptions. When a historically loaded term such as colonisation is replaced with managerial phrasing about “management” and “control,” the logic beneath it does not disappear; it becomes easier to defend. The adjustment feels strategic rather than reflective.

Meanwhile, the political exchange unfolds in a predictable way. Disapproval is voiced. An apology is requested. Regret is offered in careful terms. Yet ownership remains intact and authority remains intact. The tone shifts, but the structure does not.

Ultimately, this episode exposes more than a dispute over wording. It shows how power can absorb backlash without surrendering position, how language can be recalibrated without the worldview behind it being unsettled, and how accountability can be signalled without materially changing who controls the narrative.

Featured image via the Canary