Why Nigel Farage's Missing Apology for School 'Banter' Speaks Volumes
Farage's missing apology for school 'banter' speaks volumes

The recent controversy surrounding Nigel Farage's denial of antisemitic bullying during his school years has ignited a powerful response from Guardian readers. Their letters reveal a simple, profound truth: the targets of bullying carry the memory of their trauma for a lifetime, while the perpetrators often forget.

The Indelible Mark of Bullying

This debate was sparked by Peter Ettedgui's account of the antisemitic abuse he endured as a teenager, which he directly attributes to Nigel Farage. In response, Farage issued a categorical denial, published in The Guardian on 25 November, stating he "did not say the things that have been published". He further suggested the alleged events from the 1970s happened too long ago for reliable recollection.

Readers strongly contest this notion of faded memory. Anthony Richards from London articulates the core dynamic: "the bullied remember far more clearly than the bullies ever do. That’s how trauma works." He argues that while forgetting might be plausible for the bully, the refusal to apologise when confronted is what truly defines character. A simple, undefensive 'sorry', he shares from personal experience, can close psychological circles left open for decades.

Personal Testimonies of Lifelong Hurt

The letters page became a forum for shared pain. Kirsty Pierce from Whaley Bridge, Derbyshire, recalls with crystal clarity a denigrating comment about her weight made in 1976 when she was 13. "People do not forget," she states directly to Farage.

Barry Neville, 80, from Wokingham, Berkshire, writes that he cannot forget the insults about his facial appearance, which shaped his entire life. Another reader, who wished to remain anonymous, detailed the daily antisemitic taunts they faced at a private school in Hull in the mid-to-late 1970s. The abuse was so severe it caused them to leave school at 16, impacting their education, and the hurt and shame persisted for years.

Keith Mason of London poses a pivotal question: "Who is more likely to misremember these attacks: the person who thinks it’s just banter or the traumatised person on the receiving end?"

The Hollow Defence of 'Banter' and Time

The collective response from readers dismantles the defences often deployed in such situations. Arguments dismissing cruelty as historical 'banter' or blaming the passage of time are revealed as hollow. What matters, the correspondents insist, is the present-day response.

The ability of an adult, especially a public figure, to acknowledge harm, show contrition, and take responsibility is presented as the true measure. When the reaction is instead denial, minimisation, and accusations of dishonesty, the missing apology becomes a loud statement in itself. As Anthony Richards concludes, "We should listen to what it tells us." The letters underscore that the legacy of school bullying is not a minor historical footnote but a lived reality that continues to affect individuals across the UK, demanding accountability, not amnesia.