As debates over language, safety, and integration intensify across the United Kingdom and the United States, English proficiency has emerged as a flashpoint in both immigration and workplace policy. Recent controversies in Scotland over English language classes for migrants, and a new U.S. federal crackdown on English requirements for foreign train crews, reveal just how politicized the question of who should speak English—and where—has become.
On November 24, 2025, the streets outside a Glasgow primary school filled with signs and shouts. Protesters, organized by the Spartan Child Protection Team—a self-styled vigilante group—gathered to oppose an ESOL (English for Speakers of Other Languages) class designed for parents of children at the school. Their placards, emblazoned with phrases like "protect our kids," accused the language classes of posing a danger to children. The group’s campaign, which had already targeted a community learning center in Renfrew three weeks earlier, succeeded in pressuring Renfrewshire Council to shut down ESOL classes there, according to reporting by local media.
Glasgow City Council, however, pushed back forcefully. In a public statement, council officials condemned the protests as “misguided and toxic,” adding, “We will also not tolerate strangers and vigilante groups coming into our schools claiming to keep children safe when they have a clear hidden agenda to incite fear and alarm by spreading misinformation and inciting violence, which is bigotry-fuelled and inflamed.” The council reaffirmed the importance of ESOL classes for the school community and made it clear that racism or bigotry would not be tolerated in Glasgow’s schools.
This local flare-up is just one episode in a broader, years-long struggle over ESOL provision in the UK. Over the past 15 years, English language education for migrants has become deeply politicized, with funding slashed by as much as 32% between 2009 and 2011 under then-Prime Minister David Cameron’s Conservative government. Cameron’s policies, which linked English language acquisition to integration and even counter-extremism, faced fierce criticism from politicians and Muslim community groups. Critics argued that such measures unfairly stigmatized Muslim women and placed the burden of integration entirely on migrants, while failing to provide adequate resources for language learning.
The current UK government has echoed these themes. Labour’s May 2025 white paper on immigration control proposed stricter English language requirements for visa holders and permanent residents, doubling down on the notion that English proficiency is a prerequisite for full participation in British society. Yet, as researchers and ESOL teachers point out, this approach ignores the chronic underfunding of language classes and the skyrocketing waiting lists for public-sector-funded ESOL courses. Community organizations, faith groups, and migrant support charities have tried to fill the gap, offering informal English classes in schools and community centers, but resources remain stretched thin.
For many migrants, ESOL is not just about language—it’s a lifeline. It provides access to vital support, helps newcomers find stable employment, and offers a sense of community in unfamiliar surroundings. Yet, as anti-immigration groups increasingly target ESOL provision, teachers and advocates are mobilizing to defend these classes. Drawing inspiration from the Glasgow Campaign to Welcome Refugees of the early 2000s, ESOL educators are organizing through initiatives like Educators for All to resist what they describe as "racist campaigns that have targeted schools across Scotland." Their message is clear: language education is essential for integration, not a threat to community safety.
Across the Atlantic, the debate over English proficiency has taken on a different—but no less heated—dimension. On December 21, 2025, the U.S. Federal Railroad Administration sent stern letters to Union Pacific and CPKC railroads, demanding that Mexican train crews operating in the United States be proficient in English and not operate trains more than 10 miles inside the country. The move followed inspections at rail yards in Eagle Pass and Laredo, Texas, where officials found that some Mexican crews struggled to understand safety information delivered in English.
Union Pacific had provided an interpreter for its Mexican crews, but federal officials expressed concern that the railroad might remove this support in the future. Inspectors worried about the crews’ comprehension of operating rules and required brake tests—critical for preventing accidents. At CPKC’s Laredo facility, inspectors found repeated instances of crews having difficulty understanding bulletins and regulations, including those relating to hazardous materials and emergency responses, which by law must be maintained in English.
The Trump administration’s crackdown extends beyond the railways. Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy has made it clear that English proficiency is a non-negotiable safety standard for anyone operating large vehicles in the U.S. “Whether you’re operating an 80-ton big rig or a massive freight train, you need to be proficient in our national language — English. If you aren’t, you create an unacceptable safety risk,” Duffy stated. The Department of Transportation has already withheld $40 million from California, accusing the state of lax enforcement of English proficiency requirements. Duffy has threatened sanctions against other states for issuing commercial driver’s licenses to unauthorized immigrants, citing deadly crashes involving non-English-speaking truck drivers as a key concern.
Unions representing American train engineers and conductors have welcomed the administration’s actions. The Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers and Trainmen National President Mark Wallace said, “The administration should be commended for standing up for border security, public safety and American jobs by creating stronger safety standards for crews that bring trains from Mexico to the United States. It’s critical that locomotive engineers are able to speak to dispatchers and first responders in English when trains are moving on U.S. soil.”
Railroad companies, for their part, say they share the government’s commitment to safety and compliance. Union Pacific spokesperson Kristen South explained, “We have the same goals — a safe, secure border that keeps the supply chain fluid. Part of ensuring safe operations is good communication.” CPKC’s Patrick Waldron emphasized that international crews do not travel more than 10 miles into the U.S., and that “Safety is foundational to everything we do.”
Union Pacific has also changed its crew handoff procedures. Instead of switching crews at the border—a process that forced rail traffic to halt on a single-track bridge—the company now makes the switch at its Eagle Pass rail yard, seven miles inside the U.S., to keep freight moving efficiently. This change was coordinated with U.S. Customs and Border Patrol, according to the company.
From classrooms in Glasgow to rail yards in Texas, the question of who must speak English, and under what circumstances, is no longer just a matter of education or logistics. It’s a battleground for debates over safety, integration, jobs, and national identity. As both countries grapple with the realities of migration and globalized workforces, the politics of language show no sign of quieting down.
For now, English remains both a bridge and a barrier—connecting newcomers to opportunity, but also serving as a flashpoint in the ongoing struggle over belonging and security.
