On Sunday, November 30, 2025, the quiet town of Crowborough in East Sussex became the center of a heated national debate, as thousands marched through its streets to protest government plans to house asylum seekers at a disused army camp on the town’s outskirts. According to BBC, organizers estimated the crowd at about 4,000, making it the largest demonstration in a series of recent protests against the Home Office’s proposal. The plan, first revealed in October, aims to temporarily accommodate up to 540 single male asylum seekers at the former military site, a move that has sparked both passionate opposition and broader questions about the UK’s migration policies.
Families with children, local campaigners, and concerned residents gathered at the former barracks, waving Union Jacks, St George’s crosses, and handmade placards. Chants of “Starmer out”—a pointed reference to the Labour Party leader—rang out, led by mothers at the front of the march, as reported by The Times. The crowd’s banners bore slogans like “Protect Us. Protect our children” and “Our children’s freedom gone, so they can have theirs,” capturing the anxieties felt by many in the community.
This demonstration followed a particularly tense public meeting just days earlier, where, according to the BBC, private security guards were forced to intervene after local politicians were chased out of the community centre hall. Some residents, alarmed by the prospect of hundreds of new arrivals, have reportedly gone so far as to install panic alarms in their homes. Others voiced concerns about already overstretched local GP services, worried that the influx could strain resources even further.
The government’s plan to use the Crowborough site—along with Cameron Barracks in Inverness, as The Times noted—is part of a wider effort to move asylum seekers out of hotels, a practice that has drawn criticism for being both costly and unsuitable. A Home Office spokesperson told the BBC that the shift to military sites is designed to provide “more suitable accommodation,” with public safety remaining the “first priority.” The spokesperson added, “We are furious at the level of illegal migrants and asylum hotels. Moving to large military sites is an important part of our reforms to tackle illegal migration and the pull factors that make the UK an attractive destination.”
Despite these assurances, opposition in Crowborough has only grown. The town, with a population of around 20,000, is considered by many locals to be too small to absorb such a large group of newcomers. Wealden District Council, the local authority, has been at the forefront of this resistance. In October, the council formally opposed the plan and served a planning contravention notice against the Home Office, citing concerns over the lack of transparency and the potential impact on the community. The council, currently controlled by a coalition of Labour, Liberal Democrat, and Green councillors, has criticized what it calls an “information vacuum” surrounding the project—a vacuum that, according to The Times, has fueled tension and even threats against local politicians.
Grassroots organizations have sprung up in response to the proposal. Crowborough Shield, chaired by Kim Bailey, has been particularly vocal. Bailey described the government’s plan as “absurd,” highlighting the risks of housing vulnerable men—many potentially suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder—so close to a police firearms training centre and a public shooting range. She told The Times, “It’s absurd what they are doing. Vulnerable men from war-torn countries, to Crowborough?” Bailey further argued that the men are “unvetted,” and the rural location could make it difficult for authorities to respond quickly if crime occurs. The group has already raised more than £12,000 to fund legal action against the Home Office.
Concerns about safety and security have been at the heart of the protests, but organizers have been keen to stress that their opposition is not rooted in prejudice. Kerrie Knight, an organizer of the Pink Ladies campaign, told The Times, “The protests are not about race or religion,” insisting instead that they are about “risk and safety” and “common sense.”
The Home Office, for its part, has sought to address these fears by promising robust safeguards. All residents at the Crowborough site will undergo mandatory security checks, officials confirmed to The Times. “As part of their induction process, clear expectations are set out to asylum seekers staying at the site about their expected behaviour while on and off the site,” a spokesperson said. The department also emphasized its commitment to avoiding the mistakes of previous rushed rollouts, which, it admitted, had led to “unsafe and chaotic situations that impacts the local community.” The plan is to accelerate preparations but only move people to the site once it is “fully operational and safe.”
The protests in Crowborough are part of a broader national conversation about how the UK should manage asylum and migration. The government’s efforts to end the use of hotels for migrant accommodation have been met with both support and criticism. Supporters argue that military sites are a pragmatic solution to a growing crisis, while critics worry about the impact on small communities and the welfare of asylum seekers themselves. The debate has exposed deep divisions, not just in Crowborough, but across the country.
At the local level, the controversy has already left its mark. According to the BBC, this latest march was the largest yet, reflecting a growing sense of unease among residents. Some have expressed fears for their children’s safety, while others are concerned about the strain on public services. The town’s grassroots campaigners have vowed to continue their fight, with legal challenges and further protests planned if the government presses ahead.
Yet, amid the noise and the banners, there are quieter voices too—those calling for compassion and understanding, and warning against the dangers of division. As the Home Office and local authorities grapple with the complex realities of migration policy, Crowborough’s experience offers a stark reminder of the human impact these decisions can have—both on those seeking refuge and the communities asked to welcome them.
As winter settles over East Sussex, the future of the Crowborough barracks remains uncertain. What is clear is that the debate over asylum accommodation in the UK is far from over, and the story of this small town is likely to echo in communities across the country for months to come.
