We need to unchain the dragon

Farrell Perks

I have long held radical political beliefs, advocating fiercely for an independent Wales—a sovereign nation free from the tyranny of monarchy and capitalism. Yet, I wasn’t always the staunch defender of Welsh identity that I am today.

This transformation didn’t stem from a change in ideology, but from a deeper understanding of the political and cultural history of these storied lands. In many ways, I am what some might call a ‘convert.’

Born in the West Midlands, I was uprooted to Wales on a parent’s whim at a young age. Although I proudly consider myself Welsh, captivated by the beauty of its landscapes and the richness of its culture, there are still those who question my Welshness. A conflict I once struggled intensely with, though I pay it little mind these days.

It is against this backdrop that I became radicalized by the treatment of Wales, not just in the distant past but in the present day, as it remains shackled to England like a colony. Our economy is treated as a resource to be exploited, our people neglected, our culture systematically erased.

No voice

It was Michael Sheen who first opened my eyes to the harsh reality of the hand dealt to the Welsh people. As a fledgling independent journalist, I was already aware that something was deeply wrong. The apathy that clung to our communities, not just towards politics but towards Wales itself, was suffocating.

Then, I stumbled upon a speech Michael Sheen gave in support of Welsh independence. His words were like a lightning bolt, illuminating the injustices I had only vaguely sensed.

“The towns and villages that grew up around the coalfields and ironworks are being beaten down and forgotten, seemingly even by the political party born out of its struggles,” he said. “As the dazzling promises of ‘Britishness’ grow more hollow with each passing Welsh budget day, we are left with the realization that the world reshaped itself, and we were, after all, left behind.”

That speech changed me. I resolved to take a more active role in reclaiming Welsh culture and society, a culture I had only recently begun to embrace fully. It became clear, as I looked deeper, that the levers of power across the UK are rigged against us. The Crown Estate profits from our lands, Westminster siphons off our resources to fund “England & Wales” projects that do nothing for us.

We are constantly told we’re too small, too poor, too weak to seek our independence. This narrative has been drilled into us so thoroughly that, as Sheen puts it, “When we wake up to the dangerous position we’re in, we open our mouths to warn each other, only to find we have no voice—because we never got to build one.”

Yet there is, as Sheen says, a dragon on our flag for a reason. Dragons soar on the magic and mystery of the past, terrify with their fiery wrath, and symbolize a spirit that exists in our hearts. But in the realm of Welsh democracy, the dragon rarely roars. We have a fierce national spirit when it comes to sport, but when it comes to our political future, apathy reigns.

Failures of the Established Left

Whilst we struggle on the ground, trying to scrape by on what little we have left, our jobs gone, our industries gutted, our communities disconnected by a crumbling infrastructure, what do the ‘established’ left offer us in return? Empty platitudes and a half-hearted promise to kick us a little less hard while we’re down.

Every time we manage to free ourselves from the chains of those intent on taking everything from us, whatever banner they happen to be wearing this time, our chosen saviours fall flat. They settle only for a desperate attempt to undo the damage done by those before them, never daring to dream bigger or push further. Click, click, click goes the ratchet, grinding us ever further to the right as we watch helplessly, caught in the gears of a system designed to crush us.

And why, you may ask, is the left so allergic to real progress? Greed and complacency. Labour has sat at the top of the Welsh government for decades, pocketing salaries ranging from £60,000 to £150,000 a year, plus expenses, while presiding over the hollowing out of our nation. They tell us, time and time again, that “things are hard economically,” and so more services must be cut, more communities abandoned.

They offer us nothing but the cold comfort of managing decline, the cynical lie that this is the best we can hope for.

Make no mistake, there are those within left-wing parties in Wales who genuinely wish to change the system, but until the parties they call home begin to reflect their ideals, they are, quite simply, pissing into the wind. The spectre of political apathy looms large, and all the parties seem content to shrug it off, muttering that nothing can be done, as voter turnout shrinks, as fascists thrive, as our democracy slips further from our grasp.

The Slow Death of Democracy

This brings me to the concept of the “ratchet effect” in politics. It’s a simple yet devastating phenomenon: it is far easier for political parties to shift right than to shift left. The rhetoric and policies of the right are often easier to implement, cheaper for the wealthy, and simpler to sell to a fearful populace.

Each populist policy passed by the right drags the entire political spectrum further right, forcing the left to fight battles on terrain that favours their opponents.

The left’s fear of radical change, their reluctance to challenge the status quo, has positioned them as little more than caretakers of a broken system. They are content to tinker at the edges, to play the role of moderates, to be the managers of a declining nation. But we need more than managers. We need revolutionaries.

We are shackled to the bloated corpse of an empire that continues to drain us dry. But we do have levers—if only we had the courage to pull them. We can invest in our future, in the people of Wales, in our industries, in our communities.

It won’t be easy, it won’t be cheap, but it’s necessary. Because the alternative is more of the same: a slow death by a thousand cuts, a gradual slide into irrelevance.

We are not too small. We are not too poor. We are not voiceless. It’s time we realize that the dragon on our flag is more than just a symbol—it’s a call to action. Let it roar. Let it burn away the apathy, the complacency, the chains that bind us. Wales deserves better, and it’s time we demand it.