Farage wants your rage, not your future

Owen Williams

Nigel Farage stood in Port Talbot yesterday and told one of the most cynical lies of his political
career.

He told steelworkers he’d bring back the blast furnaces. He told Wales he’d reindustrialise our economy.

He conjured images of coal mines reopening, steel plants roaring back to life, a patriotic, nostalgic revival that would wash away decades of decline.

But here’s the truth: Nigel Farage can’t reopen a single thing in Wales. Not a furnace. Not a mine. Not a future.

Not as an MP for Clacton. Not as the leader of a limited company masquerading as a political party. Not even if Reform UK won the 2026 Senedd election outright, which it can’t – and won’t.

Because none of the powers required to do what he promised exist within the remit of the Welsh Government. And even if they did, the money doesn’t.

Farage doesn’t hold the purse strings

The cost of rebuilding the decommissioned blast furnaces at Port Talbot would be between £2–3 billion.

The entire annual budget of the Welsh Government is just over £20 billion, with most of that committed to health, education, transport and welfare. Wales cannot borrow at that scale. It cannot print money. And it cannot direct billions to resurrect lost industries that even Tata Steel has accepted are not part of the future.

Farage knows this. He admitted as much in his own speech: “We’ll need help from national government. It won’t be quick or easy.”

That’s political code for “We have no power to do this.”

And yet he said it anyway. Why? Because the cameras were rolling.

It wasn’t a manifesto. It was a stunt

Farage isn’t here to build anything. He’s here to brand himself. He wants viral clips, retweets, headlines. He wants you angry, not informed. He’s a master of the bait-and-switch – say something outrageous and emotionally charged, then let others waste time debunking it while he soaks up the spotlight.

He called for coal mining to return. He nodded vaguely to “special kinds of coal” and “fighting the establishment.” But there was no plan. No costings. No regulatory pathway. No sense of climate or economic reality. Just vibes.

He wants to make Wales a backdrop for his performance art. A nation to be toured and tokenised. Its history turned into theatre. Its pain into a prop.

It’s not the first time. It won’t be the last

This is the man who told us Brexit would save the NHS. Who posed in front of a bus that promised £350 million a week. Who claimed people were “coming for our benefits,” “changing our culture,” “swamping our schools.”

He has spent decades stoking fear and resentment – demonising religions, smearing migrants, trivialising tragedy.

He led UKIP. Then the Brexit Party. Now Reform UK – a company he rejoined when the cameras called again.

Always the same playbook: stir up division, shout about betrayal, position himself as the only “truth teller” in a corrupt world.

He’s a Trumpist. A Putin apologist. A man who’s never served a single day in government, never delivered a policy, never had to make anything work. He is, fundamentally, a fraud.

Reform’s entire Wales gambit is a fallacy

Farage isn’t standing for the Senedd. He’s not leading a slate of candidates. He won’t be in the
chamber answering questions. He won’t be First Minister. He won’t control a budget. He won’t be
making decisions about health, education, transport or steel.

So even if Reform did somehow form a government in 2026 – a fantasy in itself – Farage would be nowhere near it. He’d still be an MP for Clacton, shouting from the sidelines, spinning soundbites from across the border while someone else actually tries (and fails) to enact the chaos he’s promised.

And yet, Reform offers no answers to the basic questions any serious party must address:
● Who would lead the party in Wales?
● Who would be First Minister?
● What policies would they prioritise?
● How would they fund them?
● How would they balance the books within the financial constraints of devolution?

These questions don’t get answered – because there are no answers. There is no plan. No platform. No costings. No shadow cabinet. Just Farage, a microphone, and the politics of pantomime.

Reform UK’s entire Welsh project is held together with vague slogans and viral clips. It’s not a strategy. It’s not even a campaign. It’s a fallacy – and a dangerous one at that.

The people of Port Talbot deserve better

There is real anger in Wales. Real betrayal. Communities hollowed out by Thatcherism, starved by austerity, neglected by both Labour and Conservative governments at different points. But Farage offers no solution – only scapegoats.

The truth is that Port Talbot hasn’t closed. Steel is still being made. The plant is transitioning to electric arc furnaces, backed by a half-billion-pound package from UK Government. It’s not perfect. Thousands of jobs will be lost. But it is, they say, the future of steelmaking – cleaner, greener… and viable.

Reversing that process isn’t just impossible – it would be economically catastrophic. Farage knows that too. But he came anyway, stood before the furnaces, and lied.

Because he doesn’t care about Port Talbot. He doesn’t care about Wales. He doesn’t care about
you. Nigel Farage only cares about Nigel Farage.

Wales must not fall for this con

This is populism at its most poisonous – promise the impossible, stir the resentment, and let someone else pick up the pieces. It’s the politics of grievance, not governance. Theatre, not transformation.

The Welsh public deserves honesty. It deserves leaders who respect our institutions and understand the powers they hold. It deserves grown-up conversations about industry, climate, jobs and justice.

Farage offers none of that. Just hot air in a hard hat.

So let’s be clear: Nigel Farage is not a man who came to build. He came to exploit. And we’d be fools to let him get away with it.