Robin Swift is the novel's primary protagonist. Abducted from China at a young age, Robin symbolizes the erasure of native culture that accompanies imperialism. He is severed from all he has ever known and groomed for an Oxford Education, reflecting the ways in which foreign resources, languages, and peoples are often exploited and harnessed for imperial expansion. Lovell even tells him to abandon his native Cantonese for Mandarin, since the latter is the preference of the British Empire. Readers never learn Robin's real name, underscoring the depth of his forced displacement and indicative of an identity crisis he will wrestle with for the entirety of the novel. With his sense of self eroded, Robin becomes a walking paradox: too English for China, and too Chinese for England. 

At Babel, Robin develops a love for, and resentment of, Oxford. He is timid, hesitant to draw attention to himself, and terrified of making a scene, developing a knack for self-preservation in the process. Even as he begins to see the oppression and exploitation that make life at Oxford possible, he remains desperate to fit in, craving the security Oxford represents. His contradictory feelings are not limited to Babel; when Griffin introduces him to the Hermes Society, Robin is conflicted, unwilling to sacrifice his future for what he sees as an intangible goal of weakening the British Empire, by way of a mysterious society whose secrets he is not privy to.

Torn between two worlds, unable to commit to either because “an unflinching examination of the truth was so frightening that the contradictions threatened to break him,” Robin exists in a liminal space for much of the narrative. He finds that morality challenges comfort, and his survival instincts stand at odds with his principles. However, as his conscience weighs heavily, he learns that silence is complicity and accepts his moral obligation to dissent. Unable to continue as "a split man," he chooses Hermes and gives up his future at Babel, illustrating the role of sacrifice in the pursuit of justice. After years of dodging confrontation, he finally begins to stand his ground and fight.

As a rebel, he personifies the ongoing debate on "the necessity of violence." Should violence be met with violence, or is that stooping to the oppressor's level? Alternatively, is violence the only language that oppressors understand? Robin comes to embody Griffin’s philosophy, coming down wholly on the side of violence, but his desire for justice becomes warped, illustrating the fine line between violence as a revolutionary tactic and its potential to become a destructive force driven by vengeance.

Robin’s character also offers a compelling commentary on balancing the moral responsibility to dissent against the weight of personal suffering. The role of the revolutionary is often defined as the lifelong fight for justice, but what happens when the personal injustice you've experienced becomes too staggering of a burden to bear? Is it cowardice to seek a way out? By the end, Robin is so exhausted by the moral weight of the fight, and by the grief that consumes him, that he longs to surrender himself, seeking relief. He ultimately chooses a path of resistance on his own terms, one that delivers a final blow to the Empire while also granting himself the reprieve he craves.