Whither Ukip?

‘Some wine? How about a beer? Shall we settle into a good old pub?’ I make these suggestions to Ukip’s interim leader, Steve Crowther, as we meet in central London, but he opts for a quiet bistro where he orders a cup of tea. He has a dapper suit, a ruddy, forceful face and a white beard of neatly trimmed bristles. His rat-a-tat laugh resounds across the bar like a well-oiled machine gun. Our intended subject is the Ukip leadership election (hustings this month, results on 30 September), but the n-word elbows its way through and claims our attention. The negotiations.

Crowther declines to criticise David Davis and his team, and he’s determined not to be ‘snotty’ or ‘churlish’ about it: ‘The 23-year struggle succeeded, and the mandate was passed to a new government to implement. Fine.’ He claims to be ‘encouraged by the blood-curdling threats issuing from Brussels about not negotiating for two months unless we agree to something. Every time they do that they reveal their own weakness.’ I ask why we should negotiate at all. Article 50 is a legal instrument signed by a political cartel whose authority we are repudiating so we can just burn the Lisbon Treaty and say bye-bye. ‘This is our official position,’ he says. ‘Cut the crap. Repeal the 1972 Act. Then they can come and talk to us.’

He is politely scathing about the divorce bill. ‘It’s not a bill. We haven’t bought anything.’ He talks of a gratuity or ‘sweetener’ which should be offered (not paid, necessarily) ‘only if there’s a damn good reason.’ How much? ‘I would like to put a figure on it of not one penny.’