Reform’s gate fever

By rights, 2026 should have been an extended victory lap for Reform UK. The party has broken Britain’s two-party duopoly, topped the polls for months and is increasingly regarded as a government-in-waiting. This ought to be the fun part. And yet, Reform has spent much of the last year in a state of near-permanent nervous collapse.

Internal feuds, public rows and spectacular own goals have become a near-weekly occurrence, while the party’s increasing factionalism and piss-poor vetting procedures have resulted in a relentless drip-drip-drip of resignations, suspensions, defections and sackings. Consequently, Reform is left lurching from self-made problem to self-inflicted scandal, while its members become increasingly agitated.

Take the party’s response to the recent Farage donations row. Most parties, when faced with an awkward story, would do their utmost to get it off the front pages as quickly as possible. Either by downplaying the whole thing, or through taking the hit and moving on. By comparison, Farage and co. have decided to turn their little bit of trouble into a full-blown melodrama.

So far, we’ve had Farage’s snarling insistence that he could have spent the money on Ferraris if he’d wanted to, declarations that it’s nothing more than an establishment witch hunt, and, the cherry on top, last week’s by-election publicity stunt, which carried the same level of gravitas as when Betty Turpin used to sensationally leave the Rovers Return, only to return three episodes later.

Reform’s response hasn’t only kept the story going and going, it’s also come to serve as a case study in all the party’s very worst behaviours. Irritable and impulsive. Fixated on petty grievances. Supernaturally drawn towards self-sabotage. And worst of all, seemingly incapable of resisting the urge to pick a fight. Considering the fact that Reform are on track to either become the next Government or lead a hung parliament, their recent tantrums are akin to Sir Edmund Hillary reaching the final ridge of Everest, then turning to Sherpa Tenzing and saying “you know what, I’ve had just about enough of you”.

So, why do it? Why risk everything for no obviously apparent reason? Personally, I worry that Reform has caught something akin to political gate fever.

“Gate fever” is a term used in the prison service (I’m not an old lag, dear reader, don’t worry) that describes the anxious excitement prisoners feel when release is imminent. After months, or even years inside, the promise of stepping back into the outside world ignites feelings of anxiety and irritability in our inmates. They become tense and prone to constant worry that something, anything, might ruin their chances of release. Think of it as the opposite of a honeymoon period. The horrible bit at the end as opposed to the nice bit at the beginning.

Now look at Reform. I’m not suggesting that they’re criminals, of course, but the pattern is the same. After years in the wilderness and the outskirts of politics, either in UKIP or the Brexit Party, Nigel and his merry men have almost reached the gate, or in their case the door of No 10. And so, like prisoners convinced that some last-minute mishap will keep them locked up, Reform are on edge. Terrified that the Sunday Times, or Robert Jenrick, or Rupert Lowe, might ruin it all and condemn them to another term left slumming it on the opposition benches.

This may well be shrewd politicking on Reform’s part, after all if you treat everything and everybody as a threat from the outset, you can never be caught unaware — only caught pleasantly surprised. But it does risk making unnecessary enemies (see: Restore) as well as feeding into the existing narrative that Reform isn’t ready for government.

So, what should Reform do to cool the fever?

If you genuinely believe that the establishment is out to get you — act like it

For a start, it’s worth bearing in mind that the next general election probably won’t take place until 2029. Three years is an awfully long time to spend in permanent fight or flight mode. It’s a bit like panic buying your Christmas presents in March. Slow down. Relax.

Just as importantly, if you genuinely believe that the establishment is out to get you — act like it. The current donations row was totally avoidable. Just declare everything properly, keep your paperwork immaculate and give your opponents as little to work with as possible.

Above all, the self-pity has to stop. Politics is a rough business. Everybody involved thinks the media is stacked against them or the establishment is plotting their downfall. Complaining about it achieves precisely nothing, beyond making you look like a prima donna and the British voters are not noted for their love of prima donnas. So, chin up, Nigel.

Or, as one famous prisoner said: “One — bide your time. Two — keep your nose clean. And three — don’t let the bastards grind you down”.