Let’s not mince words: I like Rupert Lowe, a man who, in his mind’s eye, is a latter day Barbour clad John Bull. Defiant and awkward, he is a force of nature, a whirlwind of conviction, talent, and sheer bloody-mindedness. But he’s also a lone wolf, a man who’d rather set the house on fire than sit through a committee meeting. His relationship with Reform UK? A car crash in slow motion, inevitable from the start, yet somehow still shocking in its pettiness and fallout. I’ve worked with Rupert and his team over the years, and I’ll say this: the man’s got guts, brains, and a loyal online army, mostly the Reform-adjacent crowd who love a rebel. But let’s be clear, his time with Reform was always going to end in tears. Here’s why.
Rupert’s no team player. Never has been. He kicked off with the Referendum Party, all about giving the people a say on the EU. Then, in 2019, he became an MEP for the Brexit Party, Brexit being the hill he’d die on. Then managed to get himself the party’s No 2 target seat, Dudley, in the General election, only to yank his candidacy from the general election on the last day of nominations. That’s Rupert in a nutshell: all in, then out, on his terms. He’s forthright, sure, call it a talent if you like, but it’s a polite way of saying he doesn’t care for consensus. He’s built a vociferous online support base, and they lap up his every word, but it’s a solo act, not a party anthem.
Take early 2024’s Kingswood by-election. Reform had no plans to stand, too costly. But Rupert, ever the charmer, bounced Richard Tice into letting him run, swearing it wouldn’t cost the party a bean. Mid-campaign, he’s banging on about no financial backing from the centre. It was like begging for a free lunch then complaining it’s not gourmet. Classic Lowe.
As a successful businessman, Rupert’s got no time for bureaucracy or systems, red tape is his kryptonite. He’s used to snapping fingers and seeing results, not navigating party machinery. That impatience fuelled clashes with Reform’s set up. On social media, though? He’s a king. Active, brash, and adored by his followers. Elon Musk tossed him a thumbs-up once, and you could practically watch Rupert’s ego inflate. Trouble is, X clout doesn’t mean party loyalty. His head’s been turned, and it shows.
Lowe’s talk of a new party? A fever dream born of hurt feelings, not strategy
In the House of Commons, Rupert’s a whirlwind, firing off Parliamentary Questions like confetti. Problem is, half could be sorted with a two-minute Google. It’s less about insight, more about spotlight. Then there’s last year’s Reform conference speech. He steamrolled his time limit, spouting populist gems, scrap the Barnett Formula, abolish Holyrood and the Senedd — that weren’t party policy. Reform teams in Wales and Scotland were left fuming, picking up the pieces. Rupert? Unapologetic. He was certain he was right, popular, untouchable. Unwhippable, more like.
That being said, Reform’s handling of Rupert’s exit was a shambles. First suspension, then expulsion, capped with reporting him to the police for “hurty words.” From a party that screams about free speech and slams non-crime hate incidents? It’s laughable. His language was intemperate, disloyal even, vintage Rupert, but crying to the Met was wet. For a group that’s made a brand out of opposing arrests for words, it was at best, odd — and has now been thrown out. They didn’t just drop the ball; they kicked it into their own net.
Despite the mess, Reform’s riding high, polls up, local wins in places like Runcorn. Rupert? He’s morphed into “Whopert,” a larger-than-life figure to commentators. But his talk of a new party? A fever dream born of hurt feelings, not strategy. He’s not launching a revolution; he’s sulking with a megaphone. The troubles will pass, hopefully, but the shouting is not done yet. Describing Nigel Farage as a “viper” and a “coward” does nothing except make him look petulant. Farage is many things but he is not those.
This whole business was a grubby spectacle. Rupert’s impatience and intemperance cost him dear. He’ll land in the Dictionary of National Biography, but it’ll be a stub, not a saga, far less than his talents could have earned. Reform’s removal of him was botched, a masterclass in how to alienate your own. I wish him well, he’s a one-off, a man of real gifts, but he’ll need to learn to play with others to leave a deeper mark. As for Reform, we’ll do very well without him, but we should also look at our own conscience. For now, it’s over, bar the noise. Good riddance to the drama, and good luck to them both.
Gawain Towler is a former head of press for Reform until September 2024
