At Pontypridd, the scoreboard is superfluous. The terrain speaks for itself. From the stands of this small town, even before kick-off, we know who is leading. Merthyr Tydfil are the visiting team in this very popular rugby derby. In the election campaign for the local Parliament, it’s a bit the same pattern: Plaid Cymru (literally Party of Wales) plays at home while Reform UK arrives from Westminster with his crampons. The two parties, one with independence overtones, the other, populist and focused on the sovereignty of Great Britain, are neck and neck in the polls. With already a major loser: Labor who could, for the first time in a century, cede control of the Senedd, the Welsh legislative assembly.
At the refreshment bar, almost as large as the stadium itself, politics returns between two pints, as it always ends up returning here: carried away by a memory, quickly commented on by others. Steve, 64, throws out a threadbare truth in front of his alcohol-free stout: “Before, it was said that if they presented a donkey with a red rose between its teeth, it would be elected. » The red rose, symbol of Labor.
His wife, Ann, 70, agrees: “In the valleys, it was a kind of liturgy. Like a transmission from father to son. As long as there was coal and jobs here, we voted Labour. My family – all minors – didn’t even ask themselves the question! » The couple will vote for Reform UK for the first time in their lives. “Plaid Cymru, it’s risky. They are too left-wing”said Ann. And then, “Above all, Wales is not strong enough to become independent. This is not Scotland. We lack natural resources and it is not with our sheep that we can afford autonomy.”
“We can no longer afford the luxury of being Anglophobic”
Around them, no one disputes the state of the economy. Everything closed. First the mines, the steel mills, the factories, and even the hope that something might reopen. “We can no longer afford the luxury of being Anglophobic”quips Ian. All that remains is a few pretty pubs, small shops and a silence broken on weekends by the fervor of the supporters.
The idea of a future outside the United Kingdom would almost make you smile. “Yet I feel more Welsh than British”Steve admits. “We have a Welsh word for it: Hwyl. It’s untranslatable. It’s that joyful feeling of belonging. This happiness of feeling where we should be”explains Ann.
A fractured territory
In Wales, this joyful belonging is not obvious. Even less to the ears. There are indeed the flags bearing the red dragon with outstretched wings, this rugby culture, but as for the language, in a British region where everything is translated into Welsh, only 18% of the population is able to speak it and less than 10% use it at home. Difficult, in these conditions, to build an independence project on the sole linguistic base and on a few hits from Tom Jones, the local star of Pontypridd, who has the right to his statue in the center of the town.
Further on, this time in the stands, Gareth and Roger are talking in Welsh. They will vote Plaid Cymru. “These arguments about the fact that we are few in number miss the point… And Luxembourg, are there many of them? They have natural resources, perhaps? »laughs Roger. Wales has a population of 3.1 million. Luxembourg, 660,000… Gareth is more down-to-earth: “We are already in the m… What could autonomy make worse? What does London do better than Cardiff would do on its own? »
“These people will never vote for independence. No more than the many immigrants who settled there”
Plaid Cymru is sailing between two waters. The party talks about independence, of course, but without making it a prerequisite. He prefers to talk about transport, salaries and especially health, the competence here of Wales and not of London. It is aimed as much at disillusioned Labor voters as at the last Welsh-speaking strongholds in the north and west. In his speeches, the leader of Plaid Cymru, Rhun ap Iorwerth, half-heartedly acknowledges this.
The election, insists the man who could become Prime Minister of Wales, “is not a referendum on independence”but a vote on daily life, public services, the cost of living. And even a way to block Nigel Farage’s party, Reform UK, with which Plaid Cymru will refuse any coalition. The prudence of the boss of Plaid Cymru is not feigned. The polls on independence are clear: between 25 and 30% of Welsh people are in favor, sometimes up to 40% including supporters of limited autonomy. We are far from Scotland, where almost one in two voters support separation from London. Plaid Cymru knows: you can vote for the party without wanting to leave the United Kingdom.
35 minutes by train, further south, in Cardiff, this argument is valid. The capital, populated by European students and families from England, feels less Welsh than the rest of the country. Shaun, a souvenir seller under the glass roof of the superb Victorian covered market, sums it up: “Wales has become an English country. These people will never vote for independence. No more than the many immigrants who settled there. »
The divide between vibrant Cardiff and the rural world is tangible. Labor’s plan to reform inheritance tax has deeply worried Welsh farmers, with many seeing it as a direct threat to the transfer of family farms. In a country that is still largely rural, the subject has further cracked the old link between the peasant world and Labor. In Pontypridd, the match ended in a twist: Merthyr Tydfil were beaten after leading for a long time. The Welsh ballot could well hold the same surprise. It remains to be seen who will be dumped.
