On Wednesday afternoon I went to the British embassy in Washington for ‘a tea and champagne reception’ to mark the inauguration of President Trump. Like most institutions, the embassy has struggled to come to terms with the Donald. We all know (thanks to Twitter) that Trump wants Nigel Farage to be the UK representative in DC, which must leave the current ambassador, Sir Kim Darroch, feeling a bit tense. Still, Sir Kim managed to draw some big Republican beasts to his party: Ted Cruz, Chris Christie, Rand Paul and Newt Gingrich to name but four. Everybody said the special relationship was very special — they would, wouldn’t they? — and that, thanks to the Trump-Brexit phenomenon, it would get even better. But they looked spooked.
The day before the inauguration, Nigel Farage was in town. Leave.eu, the campaign group funded by Arron Banks, held another big bash on the top floor of the Hay Adams Hotel, overlooking the White House. I spoke to Steve Hilton and the BBC’s Jon Sopel, who shook their heads at each other and agreed how extraordinary it was that they, Steve Hilton and Jon Sopel, should be at a Farage party on the eve of the inauguration. Farage performed his routine about how 2016 will go down in history as the year that nation-state democracy struck back against the globalists, and everybody cheered as though they hadn’t heard it before.
The next night, after the big inauguration balls, I spotted Farage again, smoking outside the Mayflower Hotel in his red bow tie. He looked plastered. An equally drunk American girl approached. ‘I just want to thank you for whatchoo did with the Brexit,’ she said. Farage thanked her kindly. She then asked if he would mind posing for a photo with her boyfriend.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in