We were all idiots at school. But not all of us were racist, Mr Farage

I was an idiot at school. I used to nod and put two fingers out in a peace sign and say “spex” to boys I fancied (short for “respect”) and thought I was cool as anything. I wrote “I hate Maths and Mr Smith” on the front of my folder and got caught by... Mr Smith; I self-described as “popular”; I was even a one-time playground bully – running away from my best friend Roz in the lunch hall so she had to eat by herself. But you know what I wasn’t at school – and have never been? Racist. Not even for “banter”. Not the case, as it goes, for Nigel Farage.

The Reform UK leader has been accused of making racist and antisemitic comments while at Dulwich College by more than a dozen of his former classmates – which comes as a surprise to precisely no one. One former pupil, the Bafta and Emmy-award winning director Peter Ettedgui, 61, has alleged Farage told him “Hitler was right” and “Gas them” – then did a hissing impression to simulate the sound of the Nazi gas showers.

Farage, in a typically slippery denial, chose his words carefully, saying he “never directly racially abused anybody” and didn’t engage in racism “with intent”. He admitted saying things as a teenager that were “banter in a playground”, but could be interpreted differently now. Well, I’m not buying it. And here’s why.

For one thing, describing Nazi Germany’s deliberate, organised and state-sponsored persecution and genocide of approximately six million European Jews as “right” is pretty cut and dried racism, however you squint. It’s also not remotely funny – even by teenage boy standards – so it loses out on the defence of “banter”. And sure, you might argue that teenagers say stupid things in poor taste; and you’d be right. But there’s something darker to “lols” like this. Because not everybody does it. Not everybody reaches into the darkest recesses of the joke cabinet and pulls out prejudice. If you do, it says something about you.

Jokes maketh the man, you see. There’s nothing quite so revealing as what we find funny – especially in the privacy of our tight-knit group of friends; the “jokes” and “lols” we make when we are in our own homes, sure that we won’t be overheard; when we are relaxed and loose-lipped or have had too much to drink.

And there’s only so much we can blame being inebriated for: the defence of “I was drunk, I didn’t mean it” (as in the case of disgraced British fashion designer John Galliano, who in 2011 blamed overwork and a “triple addiction” to drink and drugs for a racist tirade in a bar in Paris; or Reform UK’s seven candidates, ditched following complaints about their social media posts and warned by the party’s deputy leader Richard Tice “not to tweet drunk”) only takes you so far. You have to look at the person, not the booze. I’ve never suddenly become racist or sexist after a couple of glasses of wine. Have you? No – it has to be inside you, to begin with.

And that’s exactly the case with waving off hate disguised as “banter”, which is something we women understand all too well. Wayne Couzens made rape “jokes” in WhatsApp messages with colleagues – he went on to rape and murder Sarah Everard. Self-confessed misogynist Andrew Tate tried to pass rape and homophobic comments on social media off as “sarcasm” – he’s currently facing 10 rape, actual bodily harm and human trafficking charges in Romania, alongside his brother Tristan. We know exactly which men to watch out for: they’re the ones using disgusting sexist slurs and groping us, followed up with the achingly predictable: “Can’t you take a joke?”

Donald Trump tried the “banter” defence, too, to try and wriggle his way out of being caught on tape talking about sexually assaulting women and saying “Grab them by the p***y. You can do anything” in 2005. Referring to his foul, sexist comments afterwards, the US president implied it was just “banter”. “It’s locker room talk,” he said. “It’s one of those things.” But fast forward 20 years and he’s still doing it – telling a female journalist “quiet, piggy” just last week. The old adage is entirely true: when someone shows you who they are, believe them.

Farage, then, has “done a Trump” and tried to fend off these racism accusations by saying: “Can I remember everything that happened at school? No, I can’t”, insisting: “I have never directly, really tried to go and hurt anybody.” But that doesn’t ring true to me – just look at his party’s pledges.

Reform UK’s immigration policies are designed – actively and directly – to hurt people. Farage’s own party said in September it would scrap the right of all non-EU migrants to apply for indefinite leave to remain and force them to reapply under much stricter rules, ban anyone who is not a UK citizen from claiming benefits – and force those applying for UK citizenship to renounce other citizenship, a policy that could impact hundreds of thousands of people. Even Keir Starmer has branded it “racist and immoral”.

If Farage wants to claim he isn’t racist, I would argue that he needs to show us proof, because his words and actions – both current and historic – suggest strongly otherwise. His defence is entirely moot. It’s not just “teenage banter” – it’s very grown-up policy.