One must have a heart of stone not to laugh at Elon Musk’s declaration that Nigel Farage “does not have what it takes” to lead Reform UK.
For months, Farage had been preening himself on his closeness to Donald Trump and those around the president-elect. There was much speculation about a huge financial donation being made to Reform by Musk. In the hours before his pronouncement, Farage had described the owner of X as a “hero” and a “friend” who made Reform look “cool”. And just as it was all going so well for Farage, Musk tries to topple him.
There are some who argue that the focus on Musk is misplaced and that the real issue is the abuse of young white girls by gangs of men of Pakistani heritage, which Musk has been tweeting about in the past week. It is certainly true that what happened in towns such as Rotherham, Telford, Rochdale and Oldham was an appalling scandal in which the authorities failed many hundreds of young girls. There is a justified concern that considerations about community cohesion prevented the necessary action being taken. It is right to question whether we are doing all that we can to prevent similar events from happening again. But this issue is topical not because of any major new development in the story but because of the involvement of Musk.
The trigger for Musk’s comments were the rejection by Jess Phillips, a Home Office minister, of a request by Oldham councillors to grant a further national inquiry into child abuse. The decision was announced in October and attracted little attention at the time. This is not altogether surprising in that a similar request had been rejected in September 2022 by a Conservative minister in very similar terms. There has, after all, already been a national public inquiry on child abuse (albeit not specifically on the grooming gangs) led by Alexis Jay which was published in October 2022.
Should this story attract more attention than it has? Yes, but it has not been ignored by the mainstream press. It was brought to light mainly by the work of Andrew Norfolk working for the Times. Other papers have covered it and there have been documentaries on the BBC and elsewhere.
It is also true that it is a story that has been exploited by bad actors. Stephen Yaxley-Lennon, who styles himself Tommy Robinson, has seized upon it as a means of sowing racial division. Given the nature of Musk’s interventions – describing Phillips as a “rape genocide apologist”, accusing Keir Starmer of being “complicit” and demanding that both be imprisoned – the owner of X is also clearly a bad actor. Put in the context of Musk’s prediction in the summer that the UK is heading for “civil war”, his demand that Robinson be released from prison and that the King should call a new general election, and the suggestion that the US “should liberate the people of Britain from their tyrannical government”, one might also ask if he is a mad actor as well.
This is not to deny that he is a powerful figure. He is the world’s richest man, owns X which ensures his views are well-publicised, and (for the moment) is very close to president-elect Trump. It was his decision to pick up the issue by throwing out wild allegations that has raised the profile of the grooming gangs scandal. One can see why the government tried to avoid confronting him but his language about Phillips and Starmer went too far to be ignored. It was predictable and depressing that both Reform and the Conservatives were willing to pursue Musk’s agenda without properly distancing themselves from his language.
He is a dangerously powerful man, whose only constraint is that he does not know how to use his political power with skill. Musk’s best chance of political influence in the UK would be in partnership with Farage. Instead, he is trying to remove the latter from the leadership of Reform which would fatally weaken the party. Musk is unpopular in the UK, and Starmer’s willingness to take him on – after the Prime Minister was boxed into a corner – could win him greater respect.
For the parties of the right, Musk should also provide a cautionary tale. He articulates hard-right populism designed to appeal to those angry at social change. There is an appetite for this among Western electorates but the break with Farage reveals how difficult it is to harness this force without running the risk of either being outflanked or embracing the thuggish extremes.
The Conservatives repositioned themselves as a populist party in 2019 but the realities of office and the contradictions within their electoral coalition meant that populist voters were left disappointed. In 2024, many of them turned to the simplistic certainties offered by Farage. The latter now seeks to broaden his base of support by rejecting the likes of Robinson. This then alienates some of his own supporters who accuse him of selling out, of not having “what it takes”. Musk is now doing to Farage what Farage has long done to the Tories.
There are votes to be won by appealing to the populists but eventually you have to draw a line or you will be taken to a very dark place. But as Musk’s behaviour suggests, a dark place is where some want to go. It exposes the dilemma of parties of the right: populists, you can’t live with them, and you can’t live without them.
[See also: Can Labour escape decline in 2025?]
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