Revenge of the Toffs

Britain’s class system is back. Did it ever go away?

A couple of months ago, not far from where I live, Nigel Farage attended the 400th anniversary of Dulwich College, a private school in leafy south London. According to people I know who went along, he spent the evening surrounded by a coterie of men in pin-stripe blazers. Word is he was an unpopular, marginal figure at school, but you wouldn’t know it to see the alumni fawning over him now. After all, now he was a kingmaker, a friend of Presidents! A man capable of throwing the markets into a lucrative tailspin with one pronouncement. The outsider had made good.

You hear much the same rumours of Farage holding court at Dulwich & Sydenham Golf Club, where he is reportedly a regular. I imagine that these are places of safety for him — opportunities to banter and chunter with his true fraternity. Places where the mask of demagogue can be cast aside. Another pint of ale, garcon. Actually, make it champagne!

When I imagine Farage in these situations, attended by his jovial, privileged flatterers, the depressing reality of our political moment — and of this coming General Election — comes into focus. Some still see him as the Great Disruptor. What I see is the wannabe toff who was shunned by the Tory establishment, and so went rogue, and kicked his way in through the…