In the heart of Wales, a storm has been brewing over the language used by one of its elected representatives. Laura Anne Jones, Reform UK’s sole member in the Senedd, found herself at the center of a political and social controversy after using a racial slur in a private WhatsApp group chat about the Chinese-owned video app TikTok in August 2023. The fallout from her words has rippled through the Welsh Chinese community, the political establishment, and the broader public, sparking a debate about racism, responsibility, and what it means to belong in modern Wales.
It all began when Jones, who had defected from the Conservatives to Reform UK earlier in 2025, typed a message in a WhatsApp group: “No chinky spies for me!” The comment, intended as a private remark, became public knowledge after the messages were leaked to the press. The phrase, widely recognized as a racial slur, struck a nerve—especially among those who have spent years campaigning against casual and institutional racism.
The Senedd’s response was swift. In November 2025, Jones was suspended from the Welsh Parliament for 14 days for breaching the standards expected of Members of the Senedd (MSs). The suspension was not just a procedural matter; it was a public acknowledgment that words matter—especially when spoken by those in power. Upon her return to the Senedd on December 3, 2025, Jones addressed the chamber directly, stating, “As for the language that I regrettably used in the private WhatsApp messages, I would like to take this opportunity to apologise once again for that in this chamber.” She added, “I never meant to cause any offence and would never have that intention of doing so. It is deeply regrettable that the message and others in which I had aired my frustrations in private, which I’ve also apologised for and do again, were leaked to the press and made public, where they had the potential of being misconstrued and hurt someone unnecessarily.” According to The Independent, she and her staff have since completed Senedd respect and conduct training.
For many, the apology was necessary—but not nearly enough. The Chinese in Wales Association (CIWA), a leading advocacy group, welcomed the Senedd’s disciplinary action but emphasized the deep pain caused by such language. Shirley Au-Yeung, founder and CEO of CIWA, told the BBC, “This word is sometimes used without people fully understanding its impact, but public figures should be especially mindful of the harm such language can cause. We don’t want to live in a society where racially derogatory language is normalised or dismissed.”
Au-Yeung went on to explain the particular sting that comes from hearing such slurs in Wales: “Many ethnically Chinese people born in Wales have shared that their Welsh identity can feel questioned at times because of how they look. People look at their face and think they are migrants. They feel they are Welsh but other people question and this hurts them so much.” She added, “We don’t use this word in our language. It exists in English, there is no direct translation. This term has historically been used in negative and racist contexts, and its impact is still felt deeply.”
Foo Seng, CIWA’s advocacy lead, echoed this sentiment, telling the BBC, “By using that word you are telling the public that it is OK to use that word to talk about the Chinese community. The upset we feel is difficult to express, but it just is demeaning.” The message from CIWA was clear: elected officials have a special duty to set the tone for public discourse, and the normalization of slurs—intentional or not—can have lasting, damaging effects.
The emotional and psychological toll of such language was also highlighted by Angela Hui, author of Takeaway: Stories From Behind the Counter. Hui explained to the BBC, “It might look harmless to someone on the outside... but for a lot of east and South East Asian people in the UK, it’s a word that cuts to the core.” She elaborated, “Using language such as this teaches people that it’s fair game to use that word and to mock. It encourages people to ignore our struggles, dismissing pain and discrimination as ‘banter’ instead of racism.” Hui’s words resonated with many who have felt pressure to “stay quiet, to swallow our hurt and dismiss our personal and shared experiences.”
The controversy also drew comment from the very top of Reform UK. Party leader Nigel Farage described Jones’s actions as a “pretty minor offence,” arguing that “she’s been quite harshly punished for it.” Farage added, “She used a word that colloquially probably was meant in a nice way 20 years ago. She’s absolutely made a mistake.” His remarks, reported by the BBC, sparked further debate about whether intent can—or should—mitigate the impact of racist language, especially when uttered by those in positions of authority.
While the disciplinary process focused on the WhatsApp message, the Senedd’s standards committee also investigated separate allegations that Jones had made false expenses claims. After reviewing the evidence, the committee found “no breach of the code of conduct” on that front, according to The Independent. The focus, then, remained squarely on the issue of language and its power to harm or heal.
The episode has opened up broader questions about identity, belonging, and the responsibilities of public figures. For many in the Chinese and wider East and South East Asian communities, the slur is not just a word—it’s a symbol of years of being othered, questioned, or mocked. As Hui put it, “So when people defend it as ‘didn’t mean any harm’, ‘joking around’, ‘just what everyone says’, they miss that the issue was never simply a word but how it shaped the way others treated us.”
Yet, the incident also revealed divisions within the political landscape about how seriously such offenses should be taken. While some, like Farage, saw the punishment as excessive, others argued that calling out racism—no matter how “minor” it might seem to some—is essential for building a more inclusive society. As Hui urged, “We should be actively calling out racism because it is wrong, no matter who it’s aimed at.”
With Jones having served her suspension and returned to the Senedd, the debate is far from over. The incident has forced a reckoning within Welsh politics about the standards to which representatives are held and the lived realities of minority communities. For many, the hope is that this painful episode will lead to greater awareness, empathy, and change—not just in the corridors of power, but across Welsh society.
As Wales grapples with questions of identity and inclusion, the words of those most affected by the slur serve as a poignant reminder: language shapes lives, and the journey toward a truly welcoming society requires vigilance, humility, and, above all, respect.
