A joke that worked, and an exit that didn’t.
Nigel Farage had arrived early for Prime Minister’s Questions. Some trick of the schedule meant he was going to get to speak for the second week running. Can the nation afford this? If he was charging his usual rate, that will have blown Rachel Reeves’s fiscal headroom right out of the water.
As Reform’s fortunes have risen, the party has become the increasing focus of PMQs. Keir Starmer replied to a soft question from a Labour MP with a list of the party’s failings. Apparently in Staffordshire they’re had three changes of leadership in 11 months. Robert Jenrick sat stony-faced. In Westminster, he’d settle for just one.
The exchanges between Kemi Badenoch and Starmer saw each play to their strengths. The Tory leader demanded we begin drilling for North Sea oil tomorrow, the prime minister explained that there’s a legal process to issuing permits, and Badenoch implied that if she were in charge, she’d ignore the law. Which seemed plausible.
Much has been made of Badenoch’s improved performance at these sessions, but the prime minister’s preparations are also sharper. In particular, his team has mastered an excellent structural joke. Darren Paffrey, the Labour MP for Southampton Itchen, had been sent along with a question about Reform’s funding. For all that people complain Starmer doesn’t answer the questions, he engaged fully with this one. The government, he said, was going to ban donations made in cryptocurrencies. “There is only one party leader,” he went on, “who has shown he will say anything, no matter how divisive, if he’s paid to do so.” At this he sat down, leaving Lindsay Hoyle to rise to call the next speaker, and inadvertently deliver the punchline: “Nigel Farage!”
Once the laughter subsided, Farage’s question was on why small boats are still crossing the Channel. The prime minister, as ever, waffled a little, and then moved to his attack lines, in this case repeating the Reform leader’s observation that running Worcestershire Council is such a faff that “I wish we hadn’t bothered”. This is characteristic of Farage, who is refreshingly frank about his belief that voters should be much more grateful to him than they are. He’s out there, putting the hour in, working his half-arse off, often skipping a second bottle at lunch, and all they do is complain.
Starmer’s disgust at this approach was probably unfeigned. Whatever the prime minister’s flaws, he takes the idea of duty seriously. Farage “asks for people’s votes, and then he abandons them,” he spat. “He says he wishes he hadn’t bothered winning councils. They’re an absolute disgrace.”
Farage didn’t like this. It’s one thing to give it out, but quite another to have to take it. He sat for a moment and then told his MPs they were leaving. The group you might think of as Reform Core — Lee Anderon, Richard Tice, Sarah Pochin — stood at once, and began to shuffle out. Unfortunately, the way was blocked by New Reform: Jenrick, Danny Kruger and other Tory defectors. They either hadn’t heard the instruction or were unsure of the wisdom of a walk-out.
Labour MPs opposite saw what was happening and began to jeer. Marie Tidball, in the middle of a question about keeping snooker at Sheffield’s Crucible, smiled. Next to her, colleagues waved to Farage and shouted goodbye.
Jenrick had now stood, realising that, until some accident or illness sadly intervenes, he has to do what Farage tells him. His obvious discomfort made the whole thing even funnier, and Hoyle had to intervene to quieten the laughter. Jenrick gave the chamber a dismissive wave and stalked out.
It was magnificently petulant, a teenage tantrum that could only have been improved by Tice yelling “YOU’RE NOT MY REAL DAD!” It was also not entirely thought-through. As anyone who has ever slammed a door furiously knows, the really important thing is not to have to walk back in five minutes later. Unfortunately, the next item on the agenda was the government’s plan to tighten the rules on political donations, in particular banning payments in cryptocurrencies, a form of money used by drug dealers, pornographers, and people who want to help Farage.
On Tuesday, Reform had decided they couldn’t be bothered to show up for a statement on ordinary people’s energy bills, but any move to stop dodgy foreign funding risks hitting the party where it hurts. Up in the gallery, we waited patiently for Farage to realise that someone was going to have to crawl back into the chamber. Eventually Suella Braverman and Sarah Pochin were made to do the walk of shame, slinking back to their seats as Secretary of State Steve Reed denounced the former Reform leader in Wales, Nathan Gill, as a “traitor” for taking money from Russia.
The Farage Flounce had also prompted the rarest thing of all, an off-the-cuff witticism from Starmer. Most of the prime minister’s jokes involve as much rehearsal as a performance of The Ring Cycle, and are roughly as funny, but when Tidball finished her questioned about the Crucible, the prime minister gestured towards the empty Reform seats. “They obviously realise they’re absolutely snookered,” he said.
That was probably optimistic on his part, but between Farage’s support for Trump, his total commitment to dubious ways of making cash and his very thin skin, Labour begin to see vulnerabilities in Reform.
