THE Caerphilly by-election was a superb victory for Lindsay Whittle and Plaid Cymru. Back in early September, some questioned whether or not Whittle was the right candidate, given the fact that he had tried so many times previously. He wasn’t just the right candidate, but the perfect candidate.

Born and raised locally, he’s served as a councillor for half a century and spent his life campaigning for the community. Everyone knows him — even those who disagree with him — and that recognition mattered. In a by-election, when time is short and the focus is intense, having a well-known, well-respected candidate is priceless.

Many voters who’d grown disillusioned with Labour — or who simply wanted to block Reform — rallied behind him. The tone was set early when the Labour leader of the borough council, angry at his party’s selection process, publicly declared he’d be voting for Whittle despite their long history of sparring across the council chamber.

Wales, especially the south Wales valleys, has been a Labour heartland for over a century. Labour has not lost an election in Caerffili since 1918, and the party has successfully penetrated all levels of society. It can, at times, resemble a one-party state. But nothing lasts forever, and such dominance will eventually lead to hubris, complacency, and arrogance.

Labour’s record in Welsh government is, frankly, indefensible. While they point to 15 years of Tory austerity — and the devastating consequences are undeniable — their response has been an abject failure of leadership. Instead of innovative solutions to navigate these limits, Labour chose managed decline. They’ve governed with a mentality of “learned helplessness,” accepting defeat rather than fighting for change.

This mindset is rooted in their unionism. They look to London for answers, but for Wales, London — the British state itself — is the origin of our deepest problems.

Labour’s performative outrage over Conservative austerity merely delayed the inevitable political reckoning. Decades of failure have built immense pressure, and the container is now cracking.

In a nation unaccustomed to political alternatives, the consequences of this upheaval threaten democracy itself. As disillusionment spreads, the political process repels citizens. Election turnouts fall, political literacy erodes, and people seek desperate answers to a diminishing quality of life.

This is uncharted territory for Wales. Historically, our nation has been a crucible of political activism, boasting higher election turnouts than other UK regions since the 1928 Equal Franchise Act. We prided ourselves on an informed populace, with the working class building libraries and universities, and Wales nurturing teachers who served across the UK. Now, turnouts lag, and citizens increasingly abandon the democratic process.

Adding to this instability, the UK Labour Party swept into government in summer 2024 with a broad, yet shallow, majority. Loyal activists, who had endured a decade-and-a-half of austerity, believed their faith would finally be rewarded. But the warning signs were stark: Keir Starmer’s Labour was not the party they knew. Radical proposals for tackling poverty, nationalising services or redistributing wealth were gone. Instead, the message was clear — more austerity medicine, more damaging policies like the two-child benefit cap.

Supporters clung to the hope it was a ruse, a tactical feint against the right-wing media, believing the “real Starmer” would emerge in power. They were wrong. Once in government, Labour did precisely what it promised: more cuts, pushing more people into poverty.

The Labour faithful realised: this was no longer their party. The shared core beliefs and principles with its leadership had vanished. The rhetoric echoing from Labour spokespeople sounded indistinguishable from the political right. Rather than condemning Israel’s genocidal actions in Gaza, they permitted continued arms sales. They proposed welfare cuts, further crippling the vulnerable. They slashed winter fuel payments for pensioners. This was not the language of the left; this was not the tradition of Bevan or Benn.
For those not entirely alienated from politics, the search for a new political home had begun.

Reform wasted no time capitalising on growing political cynicism, drawing inspiration from global populist right blueprints: Maga Trumpism, Javier Milei’s Argentina, Germany’s AfD, and Nordic anti-immigrant parties like Finland’s True Finns.

After 15 years of anaemic economic growth, declining living standards, worsening public health and vanishing services, daily life is visibly diminishing for many. Coupled with rapid technological shifts, this breeds fear, particularly among those vulnerable to being left behind. Social unease is inevitable.

Commentators hailed Reform’s Caerffili by-election surge — from 1.7 per cent (495 votes) in the 2021 Senedd election to 36 per cent (12,113) — as remarkable. This feeds their self-serving “onwards march” narrative, endlessly amplified by a complicit British media until it feels self-fulfilling. But the fact remains: they lost.

I challenge that analysis. This iteration of Reform, while new, is largely the same party as its direct predecessors: the Brexit Party (same leader, same logo) and Ukip. The “old” Ukip, which counted 2025 Reform candidate Llyr Powell as a member and staffer, secured 22 per cent of the vote in the 2016 Senedd election and stood in Caerffili in 2010. Their presence in the area spans over a decade; this was no standing start.

Reform selected a young candidate, Llyr Powell, known mainly among political insiders for his past work with right-wing figures — but almost completely unknown in Caerffili. The party, unsurprisingly, leaned heavily on Nigel Farage’s profile to boost recognition.

What became apparent was that Powell and his campaign team had no real knowledge or deep understanding of the issues facing the constituency.

Neither he nor his team had a grasp of local issues such as health services, housing or the struggling high streets. When pressed for answers, Powell defaulted to slogans about immigration — repetitive sloganeering might be an effective campaign tactic on a “national” level (see Boris Johnson’s successful use of repetitive sloganeering during the 2019 general election) but it’s not a tactic that works in a by-election when all the focus is on one constituency and people are looking for answers for their daily concerns.

Mabon ap Gwynfor is Plaid Cymru Senedd member for Dwyfor Meirionnydd. Part 2 of this series will appear in Monday’s Morning Star.