Wales – A Nation of Sanctuary?

Joe Newman

Wales has long taken pride in its deep cultural belief in fairness, community and strength of solidarity. But across the UK, and increasingly here at home in Cymru, our values are being tested.

It has been sixty years since the Race Relations Act became law, yet we still see racist riots, the largest far-right rally in British history, and a growing political movement fuelled by fear, misinformation and division. Refugees – people seeking safety – have become their preferred target.

We live in a political climate in which refugees are rarely discussed as people. Instead, they are framed as numbers, threats or burdens. It is easier to dehumanise than to understand. But behind every headline about “migrants” or “asylum seekers” is a human being’s story, a family, and a life interrupted and upended.

Perspective is everything.

The Human Refugee

When Farrokh fled Zanzibar in 1964, as violence targeted Arab and South Asian communities, he arrived in Britain a teenage refugee with little more than hope for a chance at a better life. He would later change his name to Freddie Mercury.

When eight-year-old Hussein was trafficked into the UK from Somalia, unable to speak English and separated from his real family, he rebuilt himself through sport. He became Sir Mo Farah.

When one-year-old Rita fled Kosovo during the persecution of ethnic Albanians, she grew up in London and became Rita Ora.

You get the picture. These are not anomalies. They are reminders of who refugees become when given safety, dignity and opportunity. They enrich our culture, strengthen our communities, and contribute in ways that go far beyond economics.

The only difference between them and those born here is circumstance.

The Myths That Dehumanise

For years, myths have replaced facts in the national conversation.

“Refugees are illegal.”

Seeking asylum is a legal right. International law exists precisely because people escaping war or persecution rarely have the luxury of safe, orderly routes.

“They are a burden.”

Refugees work, build businesses, fill labour shortages and contribute more in taxes than they receive in support once they are allowed to work.

“The UK takes in too many.”

The UK hosts less than 1% of the world’s refugees. Most are sheltered by low‑ and middle‑income countries.

“They get housing first.”

Only a tiny fraction of social housing is allocated to refugees. Many spend months – even years – in temporary accommodation.

“They increase crime.”

There is no evidence linking asylum seekers to higher crime rates. None.

These myths persist because they are politically useful. They generate fear, and fear is a powerful electoral tool.

What Kind of Nation Will Cymru Choose to Be?

As Cymru prepares for the 2026 Senedd election, the wider political winds cannot be ignored. Support for Reform UK – a party whose rise has been built partly on hard‑line rhetoric about immigration – has grown sharply in Welsh polling ahead of May. That shift reflects a national climate where fear and misinformation have become potent political currencies.

But Cymru must now decide whether those currents define us.

In 2019, Cymru declared itself the world’s first Nation of Sanctuary. That title was never meant to be symbolic. It reflected something deeply Welsh: the belief that communities are strongest when they open their doors, not when they build walls.

A Nation of Sanctuary cannot exist only in name. It must exist in how we speak, how we vote, and how we challenge misinformation. It must exist in how we respond when politicians attempt to pit communities against each other, turning vulnerable families into political talking points.

Cymru cannot control UK immigration law. But it can control the political culture it chooses to nurture.

Does Cymru want to follow a UK‑wide trend towards punitive, hostile politics?

Or does it want to assert something different – something rooted in compassion and truth?

Rehumanising the Refugee Narrative

To rehumanise refugees, we must give them back their stories. We must challenge the myths that devalue their lives. We must remember that every displaced person is someone who once had a normal life – a school, a job, a community – before it was stolen by war, persecution or disaster.

We must also recognise the role each of us plays.

Every time we share unverified claims, repeat dehumanising language, or stay silent when prejudice spreads, we make refugees less safe.

But every time we speak up, every time we correct misinformation, every time we insist on empathy, we push back.

The Choice Ahead

Wales stands at a crossroads, politically, morally and culturally. The rise of a party capitalising on anti‑migrant sentiment shows how easily fear can take hold when left unchallenged. But it also shows why Cymru must hold fast to its principles.

If Cymru still believes in being a Nation of Sanctuary, then this is the moment to prove it.

And above all – remember our shared humanity.

A nation’s character is measured by how it treats the vulnerable. And my Cymru has always known on which side of that history it wants to be.

Joe Newman is a Welsh writer and charity‑sector professional specialising in racial justice and equalities work. As a member of both the BAME and LGBTQIA+ communities, his writing is rooted in lived experience and the everyday navigation of life as a double minority.