Starmer, Lammy, and Trump’s Return: Will Nigel Farage Be Labour’s New “Diplomat in Chief”?

Keir Starmer and his foreign secretary, David Lammy, are now on the brink of one of the most peculiar diplomatic dilemmas in recent memory: preparing to work with the returning Donald Trump, a man with the grudge-holding stamina of a Victorian debt collector. Trump, for his part, won’t easily forget Lammy’s less-than-charitable comments from 2018, where he cheerily called him a “neo-Nazi sympathising sociopath” and compared him to the KKK. And now, with Trump mounting his comeback, Labour is faced with a conundrum: how does one maintain diplomacy with a man famous for not letting anything go—not even the tiniest sleight?

Enter Nigel Farage. Yes, Nigel Farage, a man who practically invented the word “cringe” in his bid to become Britain’s Mr. International. While Labour’s leaders might gag at the idea, Farage is somehow the closest thing Britain has to an official Trump translator. In fact, he might be Labour’s only hope of having anything resembling a coherent conversation with Trump. But for Starmer, leaning on Farage—who’s basically Labour’s ideological bogeyman—could come at a price even his famous pragmatism can’t justify.

Lammy’s Burning Bridges, Trump’s Thin Skin

Lammy, bless him, wasn’t exactly subtle back in the day. There’s criticism, and then there’s nuclear insult, and Lammy went straight for the latter. Calling Trump a “KKK sympathiser” and “neo-Nazi sympathising sociopath” isn’t exactly conducive to building transatlantic bridges. But back then, Lammy was a free-wheeling backbencher with about as much diplomatic responsibility as a houseplant. Fast forward to now, and he’s the Foreign Secretary—the man tasked with managing a “special relationship” with Washington that’s starting to look a bit like speed-dating between people who have nothing in common.

Starmer, for his part, has opted for the “say nothing and pray for amnesia” approach. He’s been delicately sidestepping calls to rein in Lammy’s rhetoric, perhaps hoping Trump has become so busy rebranding NFTs or chasing golf balls that he’s forgotten the slurs. Fat chance. This is Trump, after all—a man who probably has a gold-embossed book of grievances hidden somewhere under his MAGA hat.

Nigel Farage: Labour’s Newest Secret Weapon?

So here’s where things get interesting. Who else but Nigel Farage, Trump’s British bestie, could step in as an unofficial liaison? Farage is practically Trump’s one-man UK fan club, and he’s already shown he’s more than willing to embarrass himself in the name of “international relations.” Need someone to tell Trump that the Labour Party is really sorry and didn’t mean all those nasty things? Nigel would be delighted.

Of course, to get Farage involved, Starmer would have to hold his nose so tightly he might faint. Aligning with Farage—who still has Brexit written all over him like a political tattoo—isn’t exactly on-brand for a Labour leader trying to clean up the party’s image. Farage, who would undoubtedly take every opportunity to remind people he’s now Labour’s very own “shadow diplomat,” would be the price Starmer pays for Trump’s grudging forgiveness.

A Bargain Basement Diplomatic Deal, but at What Cost?

For Starmer, leaning on Farage could be like inviting a fox to babysit the hen house. Imagine the look on Labour supporters’ faces as Farage struts onto the world stage, possibly making Starmer the accidental architect of Farage’s rebranding as an “international peacemaker.” While Trump might finally give Starmer and Lammy a grudging nod, the fallout within Labour could be, shall we say, volcanic. A public embrace of Farage—even as an off-the-books emissary—would be enough to set off alarm bells in every Labour constituency from Hackney to Hebden Bridge.

Then there’s the actual cost of Farage’s involvement. Farage has spent his entire career crafting a divisive persona, not exactly the look for Labour’s “new era of integrity.” The image of Farage as Labour’s back-channel diplomat would surely have Labour’s progressive members choking on their organic, fair-trade coffee. Farage is hardly the poster boy for “progressive values,” and Starmer’s entire rebranding of Labour would take a hefty hit.

And Farage, ever the opportunist, could use the opportunity to steer Labour’s policy or leverage his favour to push his own populist agenda. Imagine Farage whispering his own foreign policy “wisdom” into Trump’s ear while Labour supporters watch in horror. The backlash within Labour could be catastrophic—a potential “Farage fallout” that would damage Starmer’s credibility as a straight-talking leader and leave him appearing more politically flexible than he’d like.

For Starmer, A Bridge Too Far?

In the end, Farage may indeed hold the key to Trump’s good graces, but for Starmer, the price could be far too high. Bringing in Farage might win a temporary reprieve from Trump’s vendetta, but it risks painting Labour as a party willing to bend, break, or even bulldoze its principles when convenient. Starmer’s success to get elected so far has hinged on his careful, unruffled pragmatism, but aligning with Farage—a political figure as divisive as they come—could leave Labour looking like it’s sold out its core values for a handshake with Trump.

In other words, Farage might well be the bridge, but for Starmer, that bridge could lead Labour straight into treacherous territory, risking the very credibility he’s spent years building. Because in the weird world of Trump-era diplomacy, Nigel Farage may be your only hope—and, quite possibly, your worst nightmare.