Three years ago at the annual Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) just outside Washington, I convened in a large room with a small group of mostly British expatriates to watch Nigel Farage rail against the European Union. That was then; this is now, and today Farage is one of the event’s most iconic superstars. His speeches have been upgraded to the main ballroom where he’s received adoringly (the woman sitting next to me last year cheered louder for him than she did for Trump). Afterwards throngs corner him in hallways brimming with grins and hoisting cell phones high.
Yes, welcome to CPAC, the volatile, star-studded Lollapalooza of American conservatism, held annually and somewhat ironically at the Gaylord Convention Center in Maryland. It’s akin to your Tory party conference, only with cardboard letters securely fastened to the walls and liable to overdose you on star-spangled Jumbotron camp. American conservatism is to a great degree organised around celebrity pundits, and at CPAC they’re all here, which is why a few years ago I almost got trampled by two Buick-sized security guards hustling Ann Coulter past a crowd of wailing fans.
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