Andy Davies discusses the “dramatic moments” in a tumultuous year for Welsh politics.
“I offered them a full Welsh breakfast, with extra black pudding” Andrew RT Davies told me in early December, with typical gusto “..[but] they wanted muesli and croissants”. Moments after his resignation, the former leader of the Conservatives in the Welsh Parliament offered this derisive take on the seven colleagues who had just rebelled against him in a confidence vote.
It was certainly memorable, and three take-aways from this were immediately apparent: Firstly, Davies’ fondness for the morning meal – after all, it was he who once famously declared that the Tories would “make Breakfast a success” (instead of “Brexit” as he hurriedly added).
Secondly, the ‘meat or muesli’ dig at some of his (arguably more centrist) colleagues, along with a resignation letter dripping in recrimination, offered a telling reminder of his party’s ongoing identity crisis in the face of Reform UK. And lastly, it signified yet another dramatic moment in a tumultuous year in Welsh politics.
In some ways, the day epitomised the Welsh political year. No sooner had the Tory Senedd leader emerged from his bruising confidence vote in Cardiff Bay, the Welsh Labour press team issued a statement, laden with schadenfreude:
“The Welsh Conservative summer of naval gazing continues into the autumn” it proclaimed, with some chutzpah. “Instead of focusing on the needs of the people…they [the Welsh Conservatives] are choosing to continue to focus on themselves”. Which, for regular observers of Welsh politics, to extend the culinary theme, is about as deep into pot-calling-the-kettle-black territory as you can get.
Welsh Labour had been consumed by its own naval-gazing in 2024, to the point where it must have felt to supporters that the party, normally so sure-footed in presenting a unified face, was drowning in one self-inflicted crisis after another. Not so much a muesli mutiny as a vast, insipid smorgasbord of rebellious introspection.
Back in March the party gathered to hail Vaughan Gething – he’d just won Welsh Labour’s contest to succeed Mark Drakeford as First Minister. Symbolically, it was a hugely powerful moment, attracting widespread acclaim. The former solicitor spoke of the “honour of becoming the first Black leader in any European country”. He said Wales was “about to turn a page in the book of our nation’s history”. But the story was short-lived. Gething’s tenure at the head of the Welsh Labour government ended in humiliation, lasting just 118 days.
The former First Minister never recovered from his disclosure that £200,000 had been donated to his leadership campaign (dwarfing anything that his rival Jeremy Miles had accrued). It had been openly declared. There were assurances that no rules had been broken. But, for many, it struggled to pass the ‘sniff test’. Both the size of the donation and its provenance (from a company whose owner had convictions for environmental offences) threw a grenade into the usually metronomic rhythm of a Welsh Labour party for whom the notion of a ‘united front’ was almost second nature.
Suddenly, the Senedd chamber became an atomising arena for unprecedented and deeply personal red-on-red attacks. “This is a speech I would rather have avoided,” Lee Waters said in May, as the former Labour government minister (of 20MPH fame) rose to his feet. He then delivered an utterly devastating critique of Vaughan Gething’s conduct, before calling upon his boss to “do the right thing” and give the donation back.
Open warfare within the party soon coalesced around another controversy: the ministerial sacking of Hannah Blythyn over allegations (she strenuously denies) that she’d leaked a photo of a ministerial group iMessage chat. It culminated in extraordinary scenes in the Welsh Parliament as Ms Blythyn sat behind Vaughan Gething, repeatedly shaking her head as he explained his decision, amidst a sea of silent and grim-faced colleagues. The body language said it all about a party in deep distress. The First Minister resigned a week later, insisting: “My integrity matters. I have not compromised it”.
So now, as they head into 2025, both Labour and the Tories in Wales are hastily trying to mend their respective wounds. Welsh Labour responded with its ‘joint unity ticket’ of Eluned Morgan and Huw Iranca-Davies (as the new First & Deputy First Ministers). The Tories (the biggest opposition party in Wales) quickly named Darren Millar as their new Senedd leader, promising “hope and change”. But for both parties, for all the semblance of new found solidarity within their ranks, deep-seated problems remain.
The failure of the Conservatives to get a single MP re-elected in Wales says all you need to know, arguably, about the party’s popularity in 2024.
For Labour, gargantuan NHS waiting lists and consistently poor PISA rankings on educational standards continue to dog their record in government in Cardiff Bay (despite repeated assurances that improvements will come). The Times newspaper headlined an article recently: “The decline and fall of Wales under 25 years of Labour”. Notwithstanding Westminster’s influence in any such story, the narrative of Welsh Labour-led decline is proving increasingly hard for the party to dispel. The 25th anniversary of devolution in Wales has held up a mirror to its institutions, and the reflection is highlighting flaws impossible to ignore.
Dr Jac Larner, from Cardiff University’s Wales Governance Centre, has also detected increasing polarisation in attitudes towards Welsh devolution itself: “In the last 2 years” he told BBC WalesCast recently, “we’ve seen devo-scepticism generally growing…at the other end we also have more people moving towards independence and more powers. Rather than the status quo being favoured by a lot of people – that’s emptying out”.
Soon Wales will undergo profound electoral change. The Welsh Parliament elections of 2026 will be markedly different to previous incarnations. In the most radical shake-up yet, the number of Senedd members will increase from 60 to 96. In addition, the first-past-the-post element of the current system will be scrapped entirely, to be replaced by a new (D’Hondt) formula based on proportional representation.
As things currently stand, Labour’s famous stranglehold on power in Wales looks more precarious than ever. And for two other parties in particular – the Welsh nationalists Plaid Cymru and Nigel Farage’s Reform UK – opportunity knocks. Loudly.
Consider, for instance, the ‘unprecedented’ All-Wales Barn Cymru poll from early December (carried out by YouGov for ITV Wales and Cardiff University’s Wales Governance Centre). For the first time since 2010 YouGov had Plaid Cymru first, on 24 per cent of the vote. If that wasn’t eye-catching enough, it placed Reform UK joint second with Welsh Labour on 23 per cent, with the Welsh Conservatives behind on 19 per cent. It is just one snapshot, but the positioning of both Plaid Cymru and Reform ignited debate around their prospects at the next Senedd elections.
Reform’s polling was particularly striking. The public affairs consultancy Deryn projected that such voting intentions, if replicated, could yield 25 seats for Reform (the equivalent of roughly 170 MPs in Westminster). In a subsequent poll, carried out for Nation Cymru by Beaufort Research, Reform came second behind Labour, but Deryn’s set projector had Reform winning 29 Senedd seats to Labour’s 28. Such a result would represent a stunning shake-up of the political status quo in Wales.
With the party reporting that sixteen branches have already been established, Reform UK is mobilising in Wales. Tapping into a deep weariness with the current state of affairs is clearly a potent recruiting sergeant for the party, and the Senedd elections could prove fruitful for Reform’s wider ambitions for government. As the Critic Magazine’s Luca Watson put it, “Wales is ground zero for Reform to show the rest of the country what it can do”.
Significantly, the chances of any one party securing a Senedd majority in 2026 look slimmer than ever. Some form of cooperation between parties, at this stage, appears the most likely outcome. Plaid Cymru and Labour have done deals in the past. But under a new Welsh Conservative Senedd leader, might even the notion of a Tory/Plaid pact entertain a few political minds in a way previously deemed inconceivable?
For Plaid Cymru, their recent poll success provides yet another major boost following a successful General Election campaign. In Rhun ap Iorwerth, a former BBC newsman, they have a leader with proven media skills. Their messaging on fairer funding for Wales, in particular, has struck a powerful chord with many, and will no doubt underpin campaigning ahead of 2026. “If these [poll] figures are repeated at the election” a party spokesperson said, “Plaid Cymru would become the largest party in the Senedd for the first time ever”. A first ever Plaid Cymru First Minister would certainly represent a huge moment, symbolically, for the party.
If Plaid Cymru sense a major opportunity, then the Lib Dems will look to 2026 as a much-needed chance to enhance their standing in Wales. The party has just one Senedd member currently. As for the Greens, they will be focusing hard on trying to establish a presence in Cardiff Bay for the very first time.
As 2024 draws to a close, internal party mutinies may have subsided momentarily. Labour’s political blood-letting in the Senedd siambr has ceased. But few sense normal political service is destined to return any time soon. The contest for the Senedd 2026 has begun, and the old political order in Wales looks distinctly vulnerable – just like the black pudding, you’d imagine, on Andrew RT Davies’s plate.