Seriously, the Clacton By-Election is a Load of Rubbish
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COUNT BINFACE, IMAGE: JPDFIVE
I was quite proud of the pun, though it did sort of write itself.
What’s currently going on in Clacton is a (rather humorous) embarrassment for Britain. Farage, bidding to claw back a semblance of a reputation, has resigned the seat following inescapable questions he faced over financial impropriety. In turn, he has triggered a by-election that he himself is committed to standing in. Unfortunately for the leader of Reform UK, no major parties have opted to partake in this dubious publicity stunt, leaving a scarcely believable stand-off between Farage, perhaps the UK’s most influential politician over the past decade, and a cosmic bin, for the newly-vacated Clacton seat.
Count Binface has stood in several elections at this point, including against Prime Minister Burnham in Makerfield, on a manifesto that includes cutting your taxes while raising everyone else’s. In the most respectful terms possible, Binface is a joke candidate, and yet we have commentators, such as The New Statesman’s Will Dunn, labelling the bin’s success a national imperative. Binface resonates because he is a walking, talking reflection of what the apathetic see as the political class: rubbish. Given the fiscally dubious circumstances that led Farage to call this by-election, with Reform attempting to manufacture legitimacy by once again preaching to the converted of Clacton, it is unsurprising that a particular Hislopian gag has reared its head over and over again in the papers. ‘We can’t have joke candidates in office, so vote Binface’. If this by-election was written for the stage, Farage and Binface would undoubtedly be part of the cast for a Christmas pantomime.
Yet, on the public relations front, resigning his Clacton seat has already backfired for Farage, as the narrative has spiralled beyond his control. Far more tabloid headlines and op-eds have been written about Britain’s new sentient debris than about Reform’s platform. It’s easier to grab the attention of the everyday Brit through political lunacy than through Reform’s typically emotional rhetoric, eroding the very legitimacy Farage ought to win back in the eyes of the amused masses. Farage’s victory, however, remains a foregone conclusion. To the people of Clacton, he is almost messianic, and there is little hope of persuading those who are so infallibly enamoured.
NIGEL FARAGE, IMAGE: EUROPEAN PARLIAMENT
Similarly undoubtable is how embarrassing this is for the British political system. In our present epoch of populism widely challenging the establishment, wherein emotion is a more prominent political motivator than logic, a man dressed up as a bin will hardly rectify the view of many disgruntled electors who see politics as a circus of the self-interested. Though the engineers of our current political climate, like Farage, will be unbothered, all other politicians, civil servants, and bureaucrats must see this as a final bout of comedic shenanigans. The often unserious nature of the Brexit era must come to a close, as recognised by the newly-installed Burnham, or it will only further stoke the populist fire it unknowingly sparked into life. With politics becoming perhaps the least serious it has ever been, political japes now risk playing too central a role in our politics. It is inevitable that the global press will cackle at Britain’s political chaos, with the leader of the UK’s ascendant party squaring up to the ethereal Binface.
While the whole affair further proves the adage ‘all politicians are the same’ is grossly incorrect (I’d like to see Burnham try to pull off a costume of Binface’s panache), it also reinforces the all-too-common view that politicians are insular and unserious when focusing on the needs of those they represent. Some will posit that the issue at hand isn’t that serious; this by-election is likely confined to a factoid for pub quizzes in the not-so-distant future, yes. But it only serves to strengthen unfavourable narratives about our politics, whether you’re a member of the forgotten Clacton electorate, a British citizen anywhere else, or an outsider looking in. While humour always has its place, we ought not forget the shameful context of this upcoming charade, and how we desperately need a politics where people don’t need to dress up as bins to hold public figures to account.
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