Opinion

Nigel Farage has never been shy of absurdity, but Reform UK, formerly known as The Brexit Party, has turned it into an operating principle: shout something ridiculous, wait for headlines, then play the martyr when it collapses under scrutiny. The latest example was his solemn warning that migrants are feasting on London’s swans and carp — a claim so ludicrous the Royal Parks had to issue a press release denying their wildlife had been turned into kebabs. It’s less a political platform than an audition tape for 

But beneath the slapstick lies something nastier. His proposal to scrap Indefinite Leave to Remain would force long-settled families to reapply every five years just to exist legally in Britain. The policy is sold as saving £230 billion, though economists note the figure is conjured with the same rigour as a pub quiz guess. The real cost would be a bureaucratic bonfire — endless paperwork, chaos for employers, and lives upended for the sake of headlines. “Common sense,” Farage calls it. It’s common only in the sense that everyone can see it’s nonsense.

Then comes the tax plan: raise thresholds, slash inheritance tax up to £2 million, and declare it a win for “hard-working families.” In practice, it’s Robin Hood in reverse — wealth ferried upwards so the well-heeled can toast Reform with vintage champagne, while the rest of Britain gets told to tighten belts. Farage sells it as liberation; in reality it’s austerity with cufflinks.

On climate, he dismisses Net Zero as “lunacy,” insisting Britain shouldn’t bother if India builds another coal plant. By that logic, there’s no point washing your hands if someone else out there hasn't. Reform’s plan for the planet is simply to close your eyes, belt out “Rule Britannia” and hope rising seas show patriotic restraint and stop at Dover.

And yet for all his “anti-elite” bluster, Farage reserves his deepest loyalty for one of the richest elites on Earth: Donald Trump. The two men trade flattery like old showmen swapping cigars, with Farage jetting across the Atlantic so often he could qualify for frequent flyer sainthood. He praises Trump’s every burp of policy as if it were divine revelation, positioning Britain as the apprentice nation to Trump’s gaudy empire. The so-called “special relationship” has been downgraded to grovel-and-fetch, a humiliating routine in which Farage eagerly bends British politics into whatever shape pleases Mar-a-Lago. If Trump sneezes about paracetamol causing autism, Farage solemnly replies that “the science is never settled.”

The contradictions pile high. A party that rages at censorship bans critical journalists. A movement that rails against elites designs its tax code to reward them. A leader who claims to defend British sovereignty happily recasts the UK as an American theme park, complete with imported conspiracy theories and golden toilets. Even Farage’s personal scandals get spun into parables of persecution: Coutts closed his account for financial reasons, but Nigel rebranded himself as a bankless Christ-like figure denied contactless salvation.

And yet, Reform UK gains traction. Polls flirt with them as a spoiler force, terrifying both Labour and the Conservatives. Outrage has become currency, and Farage is its grinning money-changer. Thanks to "Our BBC", each absurd claim of his buys him airtime, each provocation garners fresh headlines, and each contradiction gets laundered as “common sense.”

Call it what you like — populism, grievance, theatre. But really, Reform UK is a clown car in a Union Jack paint job, rattling round the M25 on fumes of outrage. If, God forbid, Reform ever manages to make it into government, the punchline will not be independence or renewal, just the sight of Nigel Farage twerking for Trump while the rest of Britain picks up the tab.

Nigel Farage’s Reform UK: Swan Songs, Fantasy Economics and Twerking for Trump

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