We really shouldn’t be surprised by the brazenness of it all. They lied about the Budget, they’re trying to edge us back toward Brussels and they’ve a history of eroding democratic norms whenever it proves politically convenient. Now, in a move that feels both desperate and deeply cynical, Labour has once again subverted democracy by cancelling yet more elections.
The decision to postpone four mayoral ballots, not just by a few weeks or even a few months but by two whole years is perhaps the clearest sign yet of how terrified the government has become of Nigel Farage and the electoral threat Reform UK now poses. It cannot be a coincidence that this announcement arrived just as a poll placed Labour at a humiliating 14 per cent. Nor can it be ignored that analysis by the Telegraph found Reform UK were on track to win every single one of the cancelled contests, stretching across the Solent, Sussex and Brighton, through Hampshire and Essex, and up to Norfolk and Suffolk.
In much of the south of England, Labour has sunk to fifth place, trailing behind even the Greens. And so, despite the official chatter about “local government reorganisation” and “devolution plans,” the truth is patently obvious: this is a panicked response to Reform UK’s sweeping gains in last May’s local elections, when they won 600 seats and took control of 10 councils, including Kent and Lincolnshire, even after Labour cancelled some races then as well. The government now seems determined to prevent a repeat performance. The two-year delay, conveniently, also buys time to introduce a voting system change that happens to benefit the Left, replacing first-past-the-post with the supplementary vote for future mayoral elections.
It’s reminiscent of the Prime Minister and Chancellor repeatedly refusing to appear on my GB News show: they’re frit. Next May’s local elections have the potential to be an extinction-level event for Labour, and the party is doing everything in its power to protect itself, even at the expense of democratic accountability.
In predictable fashion, they are doing what socialists always do when the walls close in: chipping away at democratic principles, muting the voice of ordinary people, and attempting to “manage” public sentiment instead of confronting it honestly. The instinct is not to persuade, but to restrict. Not to debate, but to control.
Jacob Rees-Mogg put it succinctly on Thursday’s Daily T podcast: “Labour hates democracy. This is fundamental socialism. Socialism believes that the interests of the collective allow you to trample on the rights of individuals.” He reminded listeners of the old refrain, “the man in Whitehall really does know best”, which captured the paternalistic attitude that has long animated much of the British Left. The assumption is always the same: ordinary people don’t quite understand what’s good for them, but enlightened technocrats do.
This is the same mindset that drove attempts to delegitimise Donald Trump in the United States, or to block Marine Le Pen in France. In both cases, segments of the Left openly embraced “lawfare” as a means of preventing right-wing leaders from assuming office, even when they commanded substantial public support. The pattern is unmistakable and deeply troubling.
Which brings us to Nigel Farage. This week we received yet another reminder that the supposed “liberals” will stop at nothing – and I mean nothing – to prevent him from becoming Prime Minister, just as they previously did everything in their power to reverse the Brexit referendum. The coming battle will be both political and deeply personal. We have already witnessed attempts to manipulate the democratic process; that may prove mild compared with what will be unleashed on the Reform UK leader in the months ahead.
The hypocrisy is breathtaking. The very same commentators who accused Kemi Badenoch of being too harsh on Rachel Reeves during her Budget response are now hurling grotesque slurs at the MP for Clacton, branding him a neo-Nazi. The BBC even joined in. A segment on Radio 4’s Today programme questioned Mr Farage’s “relationship when he was younger with Hitler”, a framing so ludicrous it was almost comical, were the implications not so serious. Suddenly, a chorus of self-appointed critics has emerged, eager to throw decades-old allegations at the wall in the hope that something, anything, might stick.
To be clear, I sympathise with the Jewish students from Dulwich College who feel aggrieved by comments they say were made nearly half a century ago. But after 49 years, the timing of these allegations raises obvious questions about political motivation. Why now? Why in this particular moment?
Farage was entirely justified in pushing back, drawing attention to the BBC’s own lamentable history of broadcasting racially insensitive programmes, from The Black and White Minstrel Show to Till Death Do Us Part. Many of the moralising Boomers and Gen Xers now lining up to condemn Mr Farage happily watched these programmes at the time and thought nothing of it. They were the same schoolchildren who mocked disabilities with Joey Deacon jokes, used homophobic slurs, laughed at men in drag, and recited the offensive original version of “eeny, meeny, miny, moe.” Selective moral outrage is not principled; it is opportunistic.
Figures like Alastair Campbell and James O’Brien, neither known for their humility, have been leading the charge on social media. Yet even Mr Farage’s biographer, Michael Crick, hardly a champion of Reform UK, concluded after a 608-page investigation that Farage is not a racist. Campbell’s latest gripe is the £9 million donation to Reform UK from Christopher Harborne, which he claims proves Farage is a tool of wealthy interests. This from the man who raised no objection when Lord David Sainsbury donated £8 million to the Lib Dems to stop Brexit, and who worked alongside filthy rich loving, Jeffrey Epstein devotee Peter Mandelson, during the Blair years. The double standards are staggering.
Ultimately, it is for the electorate, not the Left, nor the BBC, to decide whether Nigel Farage is fit for office. Past experience suggests voters dislike being patronised, manipulated, or told whom they may or may not support. Attempts to thwart their democratic choices have a habit of backfiring.
