Liberal Inferno

Brendan Roberts

Political campaigns are exhausting, but they force a party to look in the mirror. At their best, they celebrate identity and offer competing visions to make people’s lives better. At their worst, they shrink into defensive exercises, defining us purely by what we are against.

As liberals, our historic mission has always been to offer hope and bring power closer to communities.

Yet, during the last Senedd campaign, it felt as though we traded that proud legacy for something far more cynical.

Nursery wall

I remember discussing our party’s slogan with a friend: “Protect the NHS, Stop Independence!” I made my thoughts quite clear. To me, it was the sort of petulant wordplay I’d expect to see painted onto a nursery wall.

The problem wasn’t simply that I disliked the slogan; it seemed completely at odds with who we are supposed to be.

Are the Welsh Liberal Democrats not the party of bringing power as close to people as possible? Are we not the descendants of Cymru Fydd? We are the party that fought for devolution, celebrated its arrival, and pushed for Wales to gain further powers through the referendum secured during the Coalition years.

Before someone starts composing an angry email: no, this doesn’t mean I support independence. I don’t. But this Senedd election wasn’t about independence; even Plaid Cymru recognised that.

The problem wasn’t that the slogan opposed independence, but that it told voters nothing about us.

“Protect the NHS” felt aimed at Reform. “Stop Independence” felt aimed at Plaid Cymru. Taken together, our flagship message amounted to little more than a list of people we disagreed with.

Meanwhile, voters worried about traffic, housing, public services, and the cost of living. They wanted answers and a vision. Instead, we spent our time talking about everyone else.

By the end of the campaign, voters knew what we didn’t want, but I’m not convinced they knew what we stood for. People wanted hope, and we offered fear.

Overlapping flags

The irony is that liberals have always possessed a far better answer to that voter anxiety than fear: federalism. To understand how federalism works in practice, you only have to look at the messy, overlapping reality of modern identity.

I am half-Welsh and half-Devonian, and enormously proud of both. My father served in a Welsh regiment, I live a stone’s throw from Big Pit, and I am learning Welsh. Yet, I am equally proud of my West Country roots.

Identity is not a binary choice. I don’t want to choose between my Welshness, my Devon heritage, and my British citizenship because I don’t see them as being in conflict. I want all three.

This is why federalism has always appealed to me. It is the only constitutional system that creates room for these multiple identities to coexist. It allows Wales to be Wales, Devon to be Devon, and allows someone like me to be Devonian, Welsh, British, and European all at once.

It proves we don’t have to choose between our flags; we can comfortably keep all of them on our desk.

If you are a democrat, you must believe people have the right to choose how they are governed, even if you disagree with the outcome. But choosing independence because our current system is broken feels like a failure of imagination.

When we force people into rigid, single-identity boxes, we are all being pobl twp – or, as they’d say in Devon, gurt noodles.

Pragmatic radicals

Believing that multiple identities can thrive together isn’t just a nice theory; it is the exact philosophical foundation the Welsh Liberal Democrats need to rediscover. I didn’t join this party to spend my life complaining about it. I joined because a Wales, entering a more pluralistic political era, desperately needs our distinct outlook.

We should be confidently Welsh, proudly liberal, and rooted in a civic duty that asks what is good for our country, not just our party.

This is what it means to be a pragmatic radical: ambitious enough to demand structural change, but practical enough to actually deliver it. Wales faces massive, complex challenges – from housing and public services to a modern constitutional settlement.

Serious problems rarely have single causes, and they never have simple answers. That is where liberals must be different. Our job is to cut through the noise, looking past the comforting fictions of both populism and nationalism to find what actually works.

Our new voting system means Wales is entering an era where co-operation will matter more than ever. Just as federalism allows different identities to coexist, our politics must allow different ideas to be judged on their merits.

If Reform proposes a policy that helps Welsh businesses, we should consider it. If Plaid Cymru suggests a reform that strengthens our democracy, we should support it. The test should never be who proposed an idea, but whether it makes life better for the people of Wales.

The Welsh Liberal Democrats once punched well above our weight because we understood this. We were the bridge-builders, the negotiators, and the mature adults in the room.

As the political landscape fractures, that tradition of pragmatic radicalism is becoming more relevant, not less.

There is still a vital space in Welsh politics for a party that prefers progress to posturing. There is still a spark worth igniting.

Brendan Roberts is the Executive Officer for Policy Development for the Welsh Liberal Democrats and a Henllys Community Councillor in Torfaen. He stood as the second candidate on the party list for the Sir Fynwy Torfaen constituency in the Senedd election. A federalist and Welsh learner of mixed Anglo-Welsh heritage, he campaigns for local democracy and a pragmatic, co-operative future for Welsh politics.