There’s a principled way to protest – and then there’s the Brexit Party candidates in Strasbourg

It’s an old French word, parliament, from parler, to speak. So there’s no disrespect at all, but considerable efficiency in fact, in Nigel Farage turning to face the European parliament with the orifice from which he prefers to talk.

It was the first session of the new European parliament on Tuesday morning, following elections at the end of May, and Nigel Farage’s Brexit Party wasted no time at all in letting their colleagues know what they were dealing with. A small jazz quartet of what looked to be teenagers played a version of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony – the European Union’s anthem – for solo saxophone. And at their big moment, 29 grown men and women stood up and turned their backs to them.

Their little protest went viral. Other members of the European parliament briefly turned around to take pictures of the backs of their new colleagues on their iPads. Nigel Farage was thrilled. But it was exactly that, a little protest. Little people, little minds, standing in little rows, their backsides all barely inches from the little Union Jacks that they had all already put out on their desks.

Naturally, it was an embarrassment. Wherever Nigel Farage goes, he will embarrass his country. That is who he is. Naturally, Brexit Party supporters take the view that they do not want to be there, they do not recognise the legitimacy of the European Union’s jurisdiction over the UK (even though they stood for election to it of their own free will), and they do not respect its anthem.

But it is a protest that has been made before. If any of Nigel Farage’s seven attempts to win an election to Westminster had been successful, he would have found himself taking part in the traditional swearing in ceremony for MPs. It’s possible he might have noticed that there are currently five MPs who have never taken this oath. They represent Sinn Fein. But they refuse to come to Westminster. They do not want to be here, because they do not recognise the legitimacy of the UK’s jurisdiction over Northern Ireland.

As a consequence of refusing to pledge allegiance, refusing to be sworn in as MPs, they are not permitted to draw their salary and expenses, a sum of money Sinn Fein estimates at around £2m over the last five years.

There is a principled way to protest. And then there is the shallow, shameless, venal, transparently pathetic way. It should not come as a surprise to anyone which kind Nigel Farage has chosen.

Whatever happens to the relationship between the UK and the European Union, Nigel Farage will certainly not be foregoing his EU-funded pension, of at least £65,000 a year, paid for with funds his party thinks the UK government should refuse to pay the EU. There is hardly a clearer window through which to see what Nigel Farage is, has always been, and always will be. It would be a fraud. That is what he is.

The incident has led to a predictable outbreak in people claiming to be “embarrassed to be British”. I’m not so sure. Had the incident been just a fraction less pathetic, it might be possible to be embarrassed on its behalf. But 29 absurd men and women seeking to confer some kind of statesmanlike greatness upon themselves by taking some brave stand against a Beethoven saxophone solo is so tragically pitiful it can embarrass no one but those involved in it.

Of course, Farage was not alone, enjoying his little moment. Ann Widdecombe was there too. For others, it was the first dip of the toe into the murky waters of politics. A few up from Nigel Farage was former Loaded magazine editor Martin Daubney. Twelve years ago, through Loaded mag, Daubney organised a “Straight Pride March” through London, claiming that it shouldn’t only be gay people who are allowed to celebrate their sexuality.

That, too, says so much about the epistemology of Brexit and the Brexit Party. It should be no surprise to anyone that Daubney has answered the rallying call of the politics of grievance. Men and women whose yearning for victimhood cannot be quenched by the mere inconvenience of their not being victims of any injustice whatsoever.

It is this emotion, and nothing else, that compels 29 grown men and women to bear down with the full weight of their crushing juvenility on top of someone else’s brief moment on the saxophone.