‘The desire to be a politician should bar you for life from ever becoming one,” the comedian Billy Connolly once said. Never has this been truer. There was a time when unapologetic narcissists and sociopaths thrived on reality TV. Now they all seem to be pivoting to podcasts and politics.
The latest would-be politico is Andrew Tate, the British American self-styled misogynist and influencer who was humiliated by Greta Thunberg. He is suddenly very interested in becoming prime minister of Britain – which I suppose makes sense when you look at the legal mess he’s in. Tate and his brother, Tristan, are being investigated by Romanian authorities for alleged crimes including forming an organised criminal group, human trafficking, trafficking of minors, sexual intercourse with a minor and money laundering. As the convicted felon and adjudicated sexual abuser Donald Trump has demonstrated, you can get away with absolutely anything as long as you’re powerful enough. There is no better get-out-of-jail-free card than being the guy in charge of the jails.
Tate’s political ambitions are about as nuanced and developed as you’d expect from a man who boasts about choking women and has said he dates teenagers aged 18 to 19 because he can “make an imprint” on them. Earlier this month, he put up a poll on X asking his millions of followers if he should “run for prime minister of the UK”. There were two voting options: “YES. SAVE BRITAN [sic]” or “No”.
Not only does Tate not know how to spell Britain, he also doesn’t seem to realise that, unlike the US presidency, you can’t actually run for prime minister. Nevertheless, his acolytes have cheered him on and Tate has launched a political party called Britain Restoring Underlying Values (Bruv) that promises to “restore pride to a nation under siege”. I use the term “party” loosely: Tate doesn’t appear to have done all the paperwork to register Bruv as a political party and one imagines this will probably go no further than being a hastily put together X account. It’s about as close to being a serious entity as my own soon-to-launch political party: Britain Rejects Oligarchs, or Bro.
While Bruv is obviously a publicity stunt, it’s important not to write off Tate’s political ambitions as meaningless attention-seeking. It’s highly unlikely that Tate will ever be prime minister, sure, but trolls like him already have an oversized role in politics, and their influence seems only to be growing. Indeed, it seems probable that the reason Tate was suddenly so inspired by the electoral system is that Elon Musk, patron saint of Extremely Online men with giant chips on their shoulders, has become obsessed with meddling in British politics. When he’s not tweeting about whether the US should “liberate” the UK from its “tyrannical government” under Keir Starmer, the South African-born billionaire is reportedly meeting with various allies to discuss strategies to effect regime change in Britain.
At first it seemed as if Musk – who clearly fancies himself a kingmaker after his success bankrolling Trump’s campaign – was keen on Nigel Farage to head the UK. Now the pair have fallen out and Musk has declared Farage “doesn’t have what it takes” to lead the Reform party. The billionaire’s new darling appears to be convicted criminal and far-right agitator Tommy Robinson; earlier this year Musk made headlines by calling for Robinson’s release from jail. I wouldn’t be surprised if Tate’s Bruv party is just a desperate attempt to get Musk’s attention and replace Robinson in the tech mogul’s affections.
While Musk has retweeted Tate before, it’s not clear how well the two men know each other. But the lowlife clearly has American friends in high places. Tate has boasted that he’s spoken to Barron Trump and, during a recent appearance on rightwing podcast The Benny Show, Alina Habba – who is Trump’s lawyer and incoming counsellor to the president – gushed about what a big fan she is of Tate. Once upon a time the idea that an extremist such as Tate might have some sort of meaningful influence on politics would be laughable; now it seems a lot less of a joke.
