A number of months ago I went to the Reform UK conference in Birmingham, more in the capacity of curious observer than True Believer. Speaking to the party faithful, the various celebrities of Reform delivered their rabble-rousing speeches.
At said conference, Zia Yusuf, the man who apparently bought access to the very heart of Reform UK for a paltry sum – what an average Reform UK supporter could have raised by remortgaging their house – tried his hand at stirring patriotism.
The crowd clapped dutifully despite his wooden oratory, the dynamism of which suggested he had been taking public speaking lessons from Sir Keir's voice coach.
Much of what he said was hard to disagree with: such is the nature of the turgid nonsense spouted at such events and is why I generally loathe 'conference'.
To illustrate the (formerly) indomitable spirit of the plucky Brit, Yusuf gave the example of a young 'loo-tenant', as he consistently pronounced it, of the Parachute Regiment who died at Arnhem, emphasising the man's undoubted gallantry.
At the time I found it jarring. It felt somehow disingenuous, as if Zia Yusuf was co-opting our history for his own ends. For, in the 1930s and 1940s, Britain was almost entirely ethnically homogenous. Even while we are forever reminded that the Commonwealth contributed a great deal of troops for the war effort, the fact remains that the large proportion of our armed forces in that conflict were from the British Isles or the settler colonies.
These were men like my own grandfather, also of the Parachute Regiment, who risked his life at D-Day and wondered what it all had been for, seeing what had become of the country in the latter stages of his life.
Were the roles somehow reversed, I cannot fathom a situation in which I would turn up to Sri Lanka – Yusuf's ancestral home – and begin utilising examples from their history, asserting them to be mine as well.
I had long kept such thoughts about Muhammad Ziauddin Yusuf to myself. I maintained the possibility that I had been erroneous or hasty in conclusion.
However, the man's petulant resignation moments after Reform's newly elected MP, Sarah Pochin, asked in the Commons about banning the burka leads me to suspect I was onto something. After calling the suggestion 'dumb', it seems Yusuf, in a fit of pique, revealed his true colours: that first and foremost his identity is as a Muslim.
That he would choose to do so is all well and good, but it is difficult – impossible? - to square with being the Chairman of the allegedly 'conservative' option in Britain's dire political landscape. For the burka is inherently incompatible with the long-established culture of our isles. It is a declaration of religious domination in a liberal society too weak to resist the onslaught of illiberal forces.
Amusingly, Yusuf returned to Reform UK just a few days after going off in said huff. Well, thank goodness for that: it has fully reassured me that Reform are not the answer to the myriad problems we face.
Not that it's just because of Yusuf. Reform UK are a gang of lilly-livered Thatcherites, who believe that it's just a question of balancing the books and trotting some Union Jack bunting once in a while.
Farage is singularly unwilling to grasp the nettle. He may be sound on some issues, but his categorical ruling out of the mass deportation of illegal immigrants a few months ago was not encouraging. Perhaps it's a 4D chess move, but perhaps not. He appears to still believe that the path to power is through 'respectability' and not frightening the horses.
He would have been a based Tory backbencher in the early 2000s, and questions remain surrounding his ability to work meaningfully with anyone with any recognisable level of talent or courage, hence Rupert Lowe's ignominious booting out of the party.
It gets worse. Tice-but-dim is abysmal. I suffered through his recent interview with Steven Edginton only to surmise that he has the courage of a turnip and the genuineness of a Shanghai Rolex. Asked about deportations of illegals, he went 'full politician' and began dodging and weaving, refusing to give actual answers. When asked about white Brits becoming a minority in the UK, he went into full spluttering cretin mode, stating that 2060 – the projected date of our crowding out – was 'a long way off', before getting arsey with the interviewer, accusing him of being 'obsessed with this stuff'.
Such is the mindset of our leading 'conservatives'. Hoping to defend a millennium long civilisation whilst believing the time horizon of a few decades is some distant, irrelevant future.
That his girlfriend – the true patriot who has decamped to the Middle East – is similarly awful reassures me of the accuracy of my judgement. Her slimy condescension and arrogance when speaking of Rupert Lowe – sorry, 'poor little Rupert' – was enough to get the measure of her, together with her astoundingly pompous and out-of-touch article in The Telegraph stating that she had had a McDonald's for the first time and discovered that such plebeian slop was not utterly foul as she had previously imagined.
Seriously, who are these people?
Tellingly, the best speaker at the Conference was Rupert Lowe. He was the only speaker who actually seemed to believe what he was saying and viewed the challenges of our nation as more than merely an opportunity to grandstand as a politician. Little wonder, then, that he got chucked out, after facing opportunistic and baseless accusations by none other than Yusuf.
If this is the quality of the ‘right-wing’ alternative on offer, then may God help us all.