Defiance with a whiff of burning martyr – then Farage’s anger kicked in: QUENTIN LETTS

‘Tell them where to go!’ said Nigel Farage, as angry as hot bacon grease. With his exciting 15-minute broadcast, the Reform party leader did what he loves best: captured the news agenda. He made the noise. He was resigning as MP for Clacton so he could get back on his feet and let voters, not the Establishment, have the final say on his financial affairs.

Spitting Spartacus was to seize the initiative and take the fight to Rome as it were. A self-conducted by-election in Clacton will dominate the media for much of July and early August. Lashes If Andy thought he was going to get through this ridiculous season alone, he was wrong.

Mr Farage was speaking from somewhere in London, presumably from the TV studio in Reform’s skyscraper offices overlooking the River Thames in Millbank. Behind: two Union Jacks, a view of the London Eye and Big Ben in full shot. From his opening speech, which was a bit somber and nostalgic, it sounded like he was about to unleash the entire parliamentary fandango. He talked about how he ‘really, really adored’ being an MP at Westminster (I’m not sure I quite believe that) and how proud he was that Reform had been ‘No 1’ for the last 350 weeks.

He meant No. 1 in the polls, but that was the language of a pop impresario looking back on his career.

Then came a long section about his money. Challenge with the smell of a burning martyr. On the way, we learned that he did not request a penny of personal expenses from the Parliament. No wonder other MPs hate him.

Then anger kicked in. It was an ounce or two too much for my sensitive palate, but it made the conversation rivetingly unusual. There was nothing about this performance that was the same old. The trademark cigarette-like chuckle was heard only twice. A successful snake sheds its skin from time to time, and a wise politician makes his joke.

And so, when he told his family that the media was interfering, he was outraged. The roar of a vocal blowtorch. A very different Farage from the beer bonhomie of old. The provocations were so terrible, he argued, that they were justified. Those of us who have long had a soft spot for corduroy revolutionary Nigel can only hope that this angry ram is only a short-term affair.

The anger appeared real and was already evident earlier in the day when Sky News broadcast footage of one of its reporters confronting Mr Farage in a public space. For a moment it looked as if he would pass by without a word, but then something stirred within him and he came all over East Enderish, threatening the reporter with all kinds of brimstone. He did this in a husky voice that was pure Phil Mitchell. Volatile Conservative voters may be more sympathetic to the old, can-do spirit than to these threatening tones.

He said ‘I didn’t do anything wrong’ twice in his speech. He added: ‘I did not misuse public money.’ An angry threesome ensued as he said ‘I won’t tolerate’ three times. At this point his tone was angrily Dalek-like. He was explaining that he could not tolerate his daughter being dragged into politics by hostile journalists. Judge Leveson’s name was mentioned. An unattractive shaft. A little booty kick of Trump’s authoritarianism.

Speaking of which, he was considering moving to the USA. There were ‘many offers’. But then he thought: ‘Why should I be judged by Sky News and the like?’ And it would be a by-election of The Establishment against The People, or at least The People’s parliamentary standards poohbahs, the police and that notorious agent of repression, Miss Beth Rigby.

Conservative MPs looking forward to spending their summer holidays in Tuscany will now have to head to Clacton-on-Sea and the recherche delights of the Jaywick Riviera.