Nigel Farage, back on his bullshit, snarling in the Mail, turning hardship into hate, pushing the same old story: Britain’s gone to the dogs, and it’s all the fault of people who weren’t born here.
“Mass immigration has inflicted a massive strain on our public services, a surge in crime, a worsening housing crisis and led to fewer British people in work.”
One lie after another, stacked like bricks in a tabloid wall. The truth? The NHS would be dead without migrant workers. Crime isn’t surging. Most immigrants work, pay tax, and get less out than they put in. But Farage isn’t interested. He’s not trying to fix anything, he is just picking who to kick
He bangs on about 1.26 million foreign nationals on Universal Credit, claims it’s costing £12 billion. What he skips: most are settled here, many are working, just paid so little they still qualify. Refugees? Barely 1.5% of the total. But to Farage, a Lithuanian forklift driver and a Sudanese asylum seeker are the same, all freeloaders.
He paints this cartoon: step off a dinghy, get a council house, free travel, gold-plated NHS, no chance of deportation. Utter bollocks. Asylum seekers live on £6.43 a day, banned from working, dumped in rat-infested hotels or army barracks behind barbed wire. You won’t hear that in the Mail. Doesn’t fit the script.
“Britain can no longer be treated like a charity for the rest of the world.”
What he means is: shut the doors, throw away the key. Solidarity? Gone. Decency? Dead. And the joke? Britain hasn’t been wrecked by immigration, it’s been gutted by people like him. Tories and City boys flogging everything that moves, running public services into the ground, auctioning off the state. Migrants didn’t do that. Westminster did.
He moans about waiting lists and housing shortages. But not a word about austerity. Not a word about landlords hoarding homes, or billionaires dodging tax while Britain sinks. For Farage, it’s never the rich. It’s always the refugee.
“We will ban all foreign nationals from receiving benefits.”
That’s not policy, it’s punishment. A warning: if you weren’t born here, don’t get sick. Don’t lose your job. You can work, pay in, raise your kids here. But when the wheels fall off, as they often do, he wants you gone.
He wants a freeze on immigration. Deportations. Loyalty tests. A country of snitches and border guards. Where your accent, your skin, your surname can get you turned down at A&E or thrown off the dole. This isn’t masked ICE vans snatching people off the street, but it’s the same violence. Just with a cuppa in hand and the grinning face of the British bobby. Social cleansing with a flag wrapped round it.
“Only Reform can be trusted…”
Trusted to do what? Make the country meaner? Colder? Trusted to turn your neighbour into a threat and your workplace into a border checkpoint? Farage isn’t selling change. He’s selling revenge. On the poor, the sick, the foreign, the voiceless.
It’s not fairness he wants. It’s someone to kick. A scapegoat for everything this country’s lost. He calls it truth. It’s just spite dressed up in a blazer and tie.
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