Lo! The bingo halls and classic car shows of these fair isles seemed to have emptied themselves, all and sundry, into a medium-sized aeroplane hangar on the outskirts of Birmingham. Naturally, I can only be talking about Reform Conference 2024, the biggest show in town for the discerning punter who just wants his country back.

Following the party’s impressive performance at July’s general election, the order of the day was professionalisation, and the need to turn Reform from a rabble-rousing one–man band into a credible electoral force. Numerous speakers, including Farage himself, conceded that Reform’s candidate vetting process at the last election had proven disastrous, while the party’s ground campaign had been almost non-existent. Nevertheless, the mood was celebratory and genuinely buoyant — whatever its faults, Reform feels like a party with genuine momentum. 

Unlike the city centre conferences boasted by Labour and the Tories, Reform’s offering was hosted at Birmingham’s National Exhibition Centre, a conference facility set some ten miles away from the city centre. Attendees were, in essence, trapped inside the conference hall with nowhere to abscond to, giving the whole affair the atmosphere of a Brexity Butlins, complete with second-string celebrities such as Jim Davidson and Holly Valance.

Consequently, the drinking started early, with a four pints-per-purchase limit quickly imposed by the organisers. Absent the corporate stalls and fringe events that usually fill the time at party conferences, attendees instead killed time between main stage speeches by drinking and smoking to their hearts’ content. No great hunger for the smoking ban here — in fact, the outdoor smoking area was packed from dawn until dusk.

With events on the main stage led by Dr David Bull, who compered the proceedings with the cadence of an early noughties reality TV presenter, the morning began with the party’s b-listers. With characteristic gusto, Ann Widdecombe railed against small boat crossings, while James McMurdock — the party’s fifth and youngest MP — told the tale of his unexpected election back in July. So far, so standard.

The real action came in the afternoon, when the party’s four big name MPs took turns riling up the crowd, who were by now appropriately pickled. First came Rupert Lowe, a man with the appearance, voice, and opinions of a Conservative backbencher from around 1983, who denounced our post-1997 constitutional settlement in a speech marked with quotes from Tacitus, Socrates, and Margaret Thatcher. 

Following this latter-year Tory came a latter-year Labour man, with Lee Anderson taking to the stage to deliver a pantomimic condemnation of the world’s ills. With “I want my country back” as the repeated refrain, 30p Lee castigated Sadiq Khan, Black Lives Matter, and the BBC, at one point ripping up a licence fee reminder letter live on stage. 

Next came Richard Tice, introduced as “the thinking woman’s crumpet”, in turn followed by Zia Yusuf, the party’s millionaire chairman who was described by the gentleman beside me as “like Nelson Mandela or Martin Luther King”. Personally, I couldn’t quite see the comparison.

And to close the proceedings emerged Nigel Farage, complete with Eminem soundtrack and pyrotechnics. Following an entrance that would not have felt out of place on an episode of WWE’s Monday Night RAW, the irrepressible populist spent most of his speech talking about the need to turn Reform into a sleeker, more modern outfit. He was candid about the party’s failures, and demonstrated clear intent towards real structural reform, while still managing to turn on his signature charm in the second half of the speech, leaving the crowd whooping and cheering as teal balloons and streamers fell from the ceiling. 

Never a party to be knowingly off-brand, the remainder of the afternoon comprised of nothing less than an unashamed piss-up, complete with an “evening gala” that featured musical duo Bell and Spurling — of “Sven, Sven, Sven” fame — performing covers of pop classics. Even the more cynical journalists in attendance couldn’t resist a flicker of amusement as Farage reappeared on stage to be serenaded with a questionable rendition of Frankie Valli’s “I Can’t Take My Eyes Off You”. 

So can Reform really professionalise? Only time will tell. If the history of the British right teaches us anything, it’s that insurgent parties are often victims of their own momentum. Reform’s Parliamentary party is home to at least four strong characters, all of whom will want an appropriate share of the limelight. 

Reform’s membership and messaging is dominated by incorrigible boomerism

And is this the future of the British right? Somehow, I doubt it. Reform’s membership and messaging is dominated by incorrigible boomerism. The party has no coherent theory of change, and is rapidly being left behind by young radicals who abhor Farage’s focus on ill-defined “British values”. For a party which focuses so doggedly on the issue, Reform lacks a well-developed view of its position on migration and its downstream consequences. 

But if they can deliver on their promise to formalise, standardise, and professionalise, Reform could pose a real and persistent threat to the Conservative Party. As the party proved at the last election, frustration with Conservative failure to deliver lower migration is all too real. In our divided political landscape, a successful Reform campaign, which won 20 or 30 seats against a weakened party duopoly, could soon find itself propelled to coalition. If the last decade of British politics teaches us anything, it’s that you’d be unwise to bet against Nigel.