The United Kingdom’s political landscape is being shaken to its core by a heated and, at times, deeply personal debate over immigration. As party conferences unfold in early October 2025, both Labour and the Conservatives have staked their reputations—and perhaps their futures—on sharply contrasting visions for the country’s borders, identity, and social fabric. The issue is far from new, but the intensity and tone have reached a fever pitch, with party leaders trading barbs and unveiling bold, sometimes controversial, policy proposals.
At the Labour Party conference, Sir Keir Starmer took to the stage on October 3, 2025, recounting an encounter with Joyce Todd, a 79-year-old working-class woman from Oldham. Starmer claimed this meeting made him realize that "the Left had got it wrong on immigration," suggesting a newfound awareness of public anxiety over mass migration. However, as reported by The Mail on Sunday, Mrs. Todd remembers things quite differently. She insists Starmer responded to her concerns about the influx of eastern Europeans in her neighborhood by saying, "Mrs Todd, I think you could be racist!" In her own words, she later declared, "Keir Starmer is a liar. He still doesn’t get it."
This clash of recollections isn’t just about personal pride—it’s emblematic of a much deeper divide. Starmer, in a BBC interview just days earlier, labeled Reform UK leader Nigel Farage as "racist," echoing the tactics of Tony Blair’s government, which often sought to discredit critics of immigration by branding them as bigots. According to The Mail on Sunday, Blair’s administration didn’t just open the borders; it did so deliberately, aiming to "rub the Right’s nose in diversity" and, as one adviser admitted, to shore up political support by cultivating a growing block of pro-Labour voters.
The numbers tell a story of dramatic change. When Blair swept to power in 1997, the UK’s population stood at 58 million. By 2025, it had climbed past 69 million—a staggering increase of 11 million people over 28 years. The birth rate, meanwhile, has dropped by more than 6 percent, underscoring the central role of immigration in this population surge. Before 1997, net migration hovered around 200,000 annually. Now, it’s running at approximately three-quarters of a million per year, the equivalent of adding a city the size of Leeds every twelve months.
Labour’s critics argue that these changes were not accidental. Andrew Neather, a former speechwriter for Blair, later revealed that a "driving political purpose" behind the immigration boom was to make the UK truly multicultural—while keeping the full extent of these plans under wraps. Earlier drafts of a 2001 Home Office report made it clear: one aim was to render the Conservative opposition’s arguments obsolete and to brand leaders like William Hague and Michael Howard as racists, discouraging them from challenging the policy.
Fast forward to today, and the reverberations are everywhere. Public services, especially housing and healthcare, are under strain. The Mail on Sunday recently reported that the National Health Service had issued guidance extolling the "benefits" of first-cousin marriages, despite well-documented risks of congenital birth defects and enormous associated costs. Dr. Patrick Nash, director of the Pharos Foundation, didn’t mince words: "Cousin marriage is incest, plain and simple, and needs to be banned. There is no ‘balance’ to be struck between this cultural choice and the severe public health implications it incurs." Yet, the guidance argued against a ban, citing the need to avoid "stigmatising certain communities and cultural traditions."
Labour’s current leadership, meanwhile, faces accusations of hypocrisy and double standards. Starmer’s Chief of Staff, Morgan McSweeney, told friends he wasn’t behind the decision to label Farage as racist during that pivotal BBC interview, claiming Starmer acted alone under pressure. Still, McSweeney’s own connections to Blair-era strategists—most notably Peter Mandelson, who was ousted last month over links to Jeffrey Epstein—have fueled suspicions that the old playbook is still in use. Tim Allan, Starmer’s Executive Director of Communications, also hails from the Blair government, and Blair himself reportedly remains a close adviser.
But if Labour is wrestling with its past, the Conservatives are determined to define the future—at least when it comes to borders. On October 4, 2025, Conservative Party Leader Kemi Badenoch unveiled what she called the party’s "toughest border policies yet" at their conference in Manchester. The centerpiece: a £1.6 billion "removals force," modeled after the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency, with a mission to deport up to 150,000 illegal migrants per year. Since President Donald Trump’s second term began in January, the US has seen over two million illegal immigrants leave or be removed, a statistic cited approvingly by Badenoch.
"We must tackle the scourge of illegal immigration to Britain and secure our borders," Badenoch declared, promising that, if the Conservatives win the next election, all new illegal migrants would be deported within a week of arrival. The proposed force would wield sweeping powers, including facial recognition technology and mandatory immigration checks by police on everyone they stop. Asylum claims would be off the table for illegal migrants, with refugee status reserved only for those facing imminent danger from their governments. Immigration tribunals would be abolished, and legal aid for such cases denied. Badenoch has even committed to withdrawing the UK from the European Convention on Human Rights to sidestep legal challenges to deportations.
Not everyone is convinced. Some within Conservative ranks are reportedly keeping letters calling for Badenoch’s resignation, potentially to be used after her first anniversary in office on November 3, 2025, or following a poor showing in the upcoming local elections. Yet others, like Shadow Energy Secretary Claire Coutinho, have rallied to her defense. "Kemi’s had one of the toughest jobs in politics," Coutinho told The Sun on Sunday. "If you’re someone who takes over a party after it’s lost an election, it’s a pretty rough ride. We’re now taking on energy and you’ll see even more from us on immigration. Those are the things that I think the public care about."
The political stakes are high, and the pressure is mounting. On the eve of the Conservative conference, London Assembly member Keith Prince defected from the party to join Reform UK, underscoring the threat posed by Farage’s surging movement. Labour, for its part, dismissed the Conservatives’ latest proposals as insincere, with a spokesperson saying, "The Conservatives’ message on immigration is; we got everything wrong, we won’t apologise, now trust us. It won’t wash."
With the population growing, public services stretched, and the electorate deeply divided, the immigration debate shows no signs of cooling. As politicians trade accusations and unveil ever more dramatic policies, voters are left to decide which vision—if any—will deliver the security, prosperity, and identity they crave. Only time will tell whose message resonates loudest, but one thing is certain: the question of who belongs in Britain, and on what terms, remains the defining issue of the moment.
