Welsh flags, national anthem, a couple thousand people—nothing like this had happened before
In a country where Labour had governed for a generation, Welsh voters on May 7th chose a different story — one written by Plaid Cymru, whose victory in the expanded Senedd signals not merely a change of government but a reckoning with what it means to be Welsh in a United Kingdom that has long taken Wales for granted. The collapse of Labour to eleven percent and the rise of Reform UK as official opposition suggest that old political loyalties are dissolving faster than institutions can adapt. What emerges now is a test of whether devolution, as a concept, can mature into something resembling genuine self-determination — or whether Cardiff and Westminster will simply rehearse the same frustrations in a larger chamber.
- Labour's twenty-seven-year grip on Wales snapped in a single election night, its vote share falling to eleven percent — a collapse so complete it left Reform UK, not Labour, as the official opposition.
- Welsh voters had grown quietly furious over HS2 funding classified as 'England and Wales' infrastructure with no Welsh track, refused devolution of crown estates, and public services still visibly scarred by the pandemic.
- Plaid Cymru moved swiftly, tabling an amendment to the king's speech within days of victory to demand justice, infrastructure, and welfare powers be transferred from Westminster to Cardiff.
- Starmer's government now faces a nationalist administration that will ask for more than he ever offered his own Labour colleagues in Wales — and a refusal risks deepening Welsh alienation ahead of the next general election.
- Inside the newly expanded 96-seat Senedd, Plaid must govern as a minority while managing a chamber packed with inexperienced members and an unpredictable Reform bloc whose cohesion remains entirely unproven.
On a sunny Saturday in Cardiff, thousands gathered around Plaid Cymru leader Rhun ap Iorwerth as he delivered a victory speech that kept being swallowed by the sound of people singing the national anthem. Nothing quite like it had happened in Welsh politics before. Plaid had just ended twenty-seven years of Labour dominance, falling just short of an absolute majority in the newly expanded 96-seat Senedd but delivering a result seismic enough to reshape the country's political landscape entirely.
The roots of Labour's collapse ran deep. Despite significant NHS investment, waiting lists in Wales remained stubbornly high. Public services had not recovered from the pandemic the way they had elsewhere in the UK. When Keir Starmer came to power promising a partnership between Cardiff and London, that promise quickly hollowed out — the HS2 funding dispute, the refusal to devolve crown estates, the stalled police reform all fed a growing sense that Westminster simply did not care. Welsh Labour had long deflected blame onto London, but with a Labour government in Westminster, that escape route closed. There was no one else left to blame.
Plaid had spent the previous decade quietly remaking itself — moving from a party rooted in Welsh-language identity toward a broader civic nationalism that welcomed anyone who called Wales home. It absorbed the protest vote and offered something that felt genuinely different from the managed blandness of London Labour. There was even an irony in how it won: Labour had championed the D'Hondt proportional system believing it would help them control candidate lists and maintain stable majorities. They never imagined they would be the smaller party punished by its mechanics.
Wales now enters territory no one has mapped. Plaid intends to govern as a minority in a chamber where most new members — from both Plaid and Reform — have never held a Senedd seat. Reform's trajectory is uncertain; the 2016 Ukip precedent suggests populist insurgencies can fracture quickly. The larger question is Westminster. Ap Iorwerth has signalled he will demand devolved powers that Starmer refused even to discuss with his own Labour colleagues in Cardiff. If the government offers nothing, it may only deepen Welsh estrangement — and push the reckoning to the next general election rather than resolve it.
On a sunny Saturday in Cardiff, a couple of thousand people gathered around Rhun ap Iorwerth as he delivered an impromptu victory speech. Welsh flags dotted the crowd. When journalists tried to ask questions, the noise of people singing the national anthem drowned them out entirely. Nothing quite like it had happened in Welsh politics before.
Plaid Cymru had just won the Welsh elections on May 7, ending twenty-seven years of Labour dominance in a country where the party had been the default governing force for a century. The nationalist party fell just short of an absolute majority in the newly expanded 96-seat Senedd, but the result was seismic enough. Labour's vote share collapsed to around eleven percent. Reform UK, of all parties, became the official opposition. Within days, Plaid tabled an amendment to the king's speech in Westminster, demanding that justice, infrastructure, and welfare powers be devolved to Cardiff. They were testing Keir Starmer's stated openness to reform almost immediately.
The seeds of Labour's defeat had been planted long before the election itself. The party had governed Wales for so long that the simple weight of incumbency began to show. Despite pouring significant funding into the NHS, waiting lists remained stubbornly high compared to the rest of the UK. Public services across Wales had not bounced back from the pandemic the way they had in Scotland, Northern Ireland, or England. There was a palpable sense that Westminster simply did not care. When Starmer took office promising a "partnership in power" between Cardiff and London, that promise evaporated. The HS2 funding row—where the government classified the project as "England and Wales" infrastructure despite not a single mile of track destined for Wales—became symbolic of a broader indifference. The refusal to devolve the crown estates or enact police reform compounded the feeling. Welsh Labour had always been able to blame London for their problems, to say their hands were tied by austerity or Brexit or Covid. That escape route was now closed. There was no one else to blame.
Plaid Cymru positioned itself as the authentic voice of a nation waking up to its own interests. The party had undergone a quiet transformation over the previous decade, moving from a party that catered primarily to white native Welsh speakers toward a broader civic nationalism that embraced social justice and self-determination for anyone who called Wales home. They vacuumed up the protest vote and offered something that felt genuinely distinct from the blandness of London Labour politics. There was also an element of irony in how they benefited from Welsh Labour's own strategic miscalculation. Labour had pushed for the D'Hondt electoral system, believing it would help them maintain tight control over candidate lists. The system is proportional but not maximally so—it tends to reward larger parties and deliver stable parliaments. Labour never imagined they would be the smaller party punished by its lack of proportionality. Under a different system like single transferable vote, they might have fared better. Instead, Plaid swept through.
Now Wales enters genuinely uncharted territory. The Senedd has nearly doubled in size, from sixty to ninety-six seats. Plaid intends to govern as a minority administration, which means navigating a chamber full of inexperienced politicians. Most of the new Plaid and Reform members have never sat in the Senedd before. Reform, in particular, presents an unpredictable variable. The precedent from 2016, when Ukip won a significant number of seats, suggests such populist insurgencies can implode quickly, with members drifting into independence or internal conflict. Whether Reform will be constructively critical or purely obstructionist remains unclear.
The relationship with Westminster is the larger question mark. Starmer has indicated he is open to a "conversation" about future devolved powers, but observers expect the dynamic to be tense. Ap Iorwerth has made clear he intends to hold Westminster to account and demand things that Starmer refused to give his own Labour colleagues. If the government offered nothing to Eluned Morgan, the previous Welsh Labour first minister, why would they offer anything to Plaid Cymru? That calculation may simply push Labour's problem with Welsh voters further into the future, toward the next general election. For now, the country is heading into waters no one has charted before.
Notable Quotes
The growth in support for Plaid Cymru in every region of Wales shows a fundamental shift in people's hope and aspirations for our nation. People can see that Wales doesn't get the fair treatment we deserve.— Liz Saville Roberts, Plaid Cymru's Westminster leader
We are heading into uncharted waters.— Bethan McKernan, The Guardian's Wales correspondent
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
What made this election feel so different from previous Welsh contests?
The scale of it, partly. Two thousand people singing the national anthem in the street—that doesn't happen in Welsh politics. But it was also the finality of it. Labour didn't just lose ground; they were essentially erased. Eleven percent. After a century of dominance, that's not a setback. That's a realignment.
Why did Labour collapse so completely?
They'd been in power for twenty-seven years. The NHS was underfunded, waiting lists were terrible, public services hadn't recovered from the pandemic the way they had elsewhere. But the real damage was psychological. Westminster ignored Wales. HS2 was called an England-Wales project with zero track in Wales. The crown estates weren't devolved. People felt abandoned by their own party in London.
And Plaid filled that void?
They positioned themselves as the only party actually fighting for Wales. They'd also evolved—they weren't just the party for Welsh speakers anymore. They were offering civic nationalism, social justice, self-determination for anyone living there. That's a much broader appeal.
What about Reform becoming the official opposition? That seems chaotic.
It is. Most of those Reform members have never sat in the Senedd. We've seen this before with Ukip in 2016—they imploded within a couple of years. The question is whether they'll be constructively critical or just combative while Ap Iorwerth tries to govern as a minority.
How does Starmer handle this?
He's said he's open to conversations about devolved powers. But observers expect it to be testy. Ap Iorwerth will demand things Starmer refused to give his own Welsh Labour colleagues. If Westminster doesn't budge, it just confirms to Welsh voters that Labour doesn't care about them—and that problem gets worse, not better.
So this election result might actually haunt Labour nationally?
Almost certainly. They've lost the ability to blame London for their failures. Now they have to own their record. And if Starmer's government doesn't treat Plaid seriously, it reinforces the message that drove people away in the first place.