QUENTIN LETTS: French politician Jordan Bardella's delivery was a bit Inspector Clouseau. 'Zurry aboot my acsent,' he told the Reform conference. A granny behind me yelled with guttural lust: 'We love it!'

See more Daily Mail on Google - save us as a Preferred Source Published: 14:16 EDT, 4 September 2026 | Updated: 14:26 EDT, 4 September 2026 Reform's conference day was crazy, topsy-turvy, enormous. Security bods were having kittens. Protesters were kicked out with the regularity of sheep dung being catapulted over the city walls at the siege of Megiddo. Every time hecklers started bleating, the crowd broke into a chant of ‘boring! boring! boring!’ The more the Lefties popped up, the more ‘the people’s army’ (as Reform calls its activists) honked and cheered.The whole shebang was an hour late to start, so many members were still queuing outside Birmingham’s National Exhibition Centre. Further delay was caused by a bomb scare of some type.Party leader Farage lost patience waiting back-stage. He took to the floor of the hall, his bodyguards breaking a path through the selfie-flash-pop throng. There was no missing Nigel’s grey hairdo, fuchsia tie and electric-blue suit. He beamed his froggy grin with those black teeth and bopped along to Come On Eileen.The commercial halls seemed as big as an airport. On stage, things started on a sad note with a salute to Ann Widdecombe. Given what happened to her, you can understand the concerns of the Farage security detail.‘There are going to be casualties,’ said party chairman Lee Anderson. He was referring, I think, to political scandals. The morning had started with two of Mr Farage’s closest aides quitting over a funding scandal. That did little to dent the conference fervour. It was as if a couple of jockeys had come a cropper in the Grand National. Everyone else cantered on, leaving the St John Ambulance to stretcher away the fallers.The day’s biggest turn, apart from a rejuvenated Farage, was a Frenchman: Jordan Bardella, fancied as prime minister in any National Rally government. He came on just after a negative turn from Zia Yusuf, Reform’s home affairs spokesman. For all his snarls there is something inauthentic about Mr Yusuf. He purses his lips too much. Too much florid ‘His Majesty’s Royal Navy’. Why not just say ‘the Navy’? Nigel Farage with his grey hairdo, fuchsia tie and electric-blue suit at the Reform conference The day's biggest turn was a Frenchman, in the form of National Rally's Jordan BardellaOn sashayed the tall M Bardella and the mood quite altered, from sour and bogus to something more engaging. His delivery was a bit Inspector Clouseau but he was generous to Britain and the Union Jack. ‘You are right to be proud of it. Fly it. Celebrate it. And never apologise for being a patriot.’ He and Mr Farage, who hope one day to be governing France and Britain, signed a big copy of a ‘protocole d’accord’ (ie memorandum of understanding) about how the French government might in future take back small-boat refugees who left French beaches for England. M Bardella wrote his signature with a wonderful flourish. Mr Farage’s writing was rather more crabbed and fourth-formish.Between speeches the hall’s sound system boomed pop music so loudly that it made my trousers flap. ‘Zurry aboot my acsent,’ said M Bardella. A hyper-suntanned granny behind me yelled, with guttural lust: ‘We love it!’ The activists were less eccentrically dressed than in some years but one bloke was in a suit of armour. Maybe he was a Left-wing sting operator in deep cover.‘We’ve got a screamer,’ laughed Mr Farage when one of the hecklers started. Blimey, you can’t say that in many parts of Britain these days. As the female protester was dragged out by heavies, Mr Farage added: ‘These are the benefits of a university education, folks. Tell us, love, is it sociology? Yeah, I bet it is.’In his speech he sounded a note of menace towards judges and civil servants. If they stood in the way of a Reform government, they could expect to be fired. Why was Reform encountering such turbulence? ‘Because they’re scared of us,’ he said.For all his apparent relish of mischief it was rather a relief to see him still in one piece as he took his leave of the throng. ‘Love you all,’ he said, ‘you’re a great lot.’ Then it was back into the arms of his minders. They enveloped him with relief.