The ephemeral Farage
Nigel Farage’s appearance in Parliament was as rare as it was undistinguished
In Parliament on Wednesday we got a rare treat: a live sighting of Nigel Farage. Like the great bustard, Farage was once ubiquitous in Britain, holding constant press conferences to reveal policies that would subsequently be recanted, sometimes at the actual event announcing them. Biologists debated this behaviour: was it a mating signal, or a desire to mark territory? Whatever the reason, the hearty Farage chuckle seemed as much a part of national life as a batting collapse or a Eurovision disappointment.
But in recent weeks, Farage has almost completely disappeared, hunted close to extinction by journalists asking questions like: “hang on, five million quid?” and “define ‘gift’?”. Suddenly the Reform Party leader could only be seen in protected spaces — soft interviews with sympathetic hacks, or his own social media feed — and then only rarely. Even after his party’s local elections triumph, when his usual behaviour would have been a strut through the Sunday morning interview shows showing off his distinctive brightly coloured ties and his cry of “now hang on Laura”, he had vanished. We had to make do instead with Richard Tice, Reform’s answer to the grey pigeon.
But now here he was, face tanned from his hours of toil on behalf of his lucky Clacton constituents, sitting in the House of Commons. Up in the Press Gallery, we pulled out our binoculars with great caution, lest a sudden unwise shout of “WHAT WAS THE MONEY FOR?” might cause him to fly off.
What had caused this unexpected appearance? Those who have studied the behaviour of Farage in his natural habitat have noticed that he flourishes in warm conditions after crimes committed by people with brown skin. Upon hearing of one, he will exhibit behaviours including putting on a serious expression and recording videos of conspiracy theories. The recent heatwave and the conclusion of the trial relating to the murder of student Henry Nowak in Southampton had caused him to break cover, demanding the nation respond with “pure cold rage”.
The result wasn’t quite the summer riots of 2024, but it might have been heartening to see a bunch of coked-up skinheads throwing things at the police on Tuesday evening. We all like to know that we’ve still got it. So he had been tempted to the Commons, to see if he could make the magic happen there as well.
One of the reasons that Parliament is not an ideal environment for Farage is that he has to listen to the sound of other people’s voices. This always brings him out in a bored expression. His own 90-minute press conferences aren’t like this. First Kemi Badenoch grilled Keir Starmer over the rising cost of welfare, something that the Conservatives worked out how to solve just too late to implement it. She noted, correctly, that Labour MPs were less than full-voiced in support of their man. The prime minister is in an odd state of limbo where everyone thinks he’s doomed except him.
Ed Davey had a joke about Tony Blair’s recent intervention in our national life: “With our armed forces overstretched, Labour now seems to be investing in a new weapon of war, the long-form essay. It gives another meaning to the phrase ‘drone warfare’.” This was a good enough joke that Starmer laughed quite heartily, before delivering a reply he’d prepared earlier: “I’m surprised he hasn’t done more to welcome the savings we’re delivering for Family Fun Days Out this summer.”
Number 10 had its usual set piece manoeuvre for a day when the Reform leader is down to ask a question. Noah Law, a friendly Labour MP, asked about the Nowak case. Starmer responded by quoting the words of the victim’s father: “We do not want his death to be used to create further division, hatred, or tension.” He repeated them before concluding: “We must not allow this tragedy to be hijacked by anyone who seeks to divide us.” And then he sat down, meaning that the next words uttered were from the Speaker: “Nigel Farage!”
Starmer is, we all know, a parliamentarian of limited range, but one thing he can manage is righteous disappointment
The Reform leader trilled out one of his standard lines: “we’re living under two-tier policing!” This, apparently, is the reason fat blokes are hurling wheelie bins at the cops. As the rest of the chamber called on him to give some indication that he thought thugs attacking the police was a bad thing, he simply promised us that things would get “considerably worse”.
Starmer is, we all know, a parliamentarian of limited range, but one thing he can manage is righteous disappointment. “I’m really shocked that he pretends to have respect for Henry’s family and then acts in this way,” he said. Farage gave a little smirk.
The prime minister continued. “They have lost their son in the most appalling circumstance. They make a simple plea of us as human beings to please not exploit that.” Farage made a face that suggested he wasn’t completely convinced. “His response has been to appeal for rage.” Farage nodded. The rest of the chamber was now silent. “Exploiting this tragedy to create grievance and division would be wrong in any circumstances, but to do it when the family are expressly saying please don’t is unforgivable. It shows exactly who he is.”
Farage smiled. His calculation must be that Britain is now on the side of the rioters. Those of us who want to live in peace will have to hope that, in the words of a different prime minister, Twitter isn’t Britain.
Moments later the Reform leader had fluttered away, back to one of his many safe houses, perhaps to feather his nest with another crypto deal. Who knows when we’ll see him again?
