Der Onkel von Ann Widdecombe, der Verdächtige, sagt, er sei bei der Verhaftung "fast auf den Boden gefallen".

A family was targeted by a killer, but I never had Ann Widdecombe’s courage in the face of such vitriol on social media… It’s time to end this market in hate: SARAH VINE Ann Widdecombe was not a personal friend of mine, but our paths crossed on a number of occasions, the first over a quarter of a century ago. I had just started dating a fellow journalist, one Michael Gove, and it was Valentine’s Day, a fact that he had clearly overlooked, as he had a prior engagement: dinner at the home of the late Chief Rabbi, Jonathan Sacks. He apologised, somewhat sheepishly, said he realised it was probably not what I’d had in mind, but asked me nonetheless if I would like to accompany him. An evening of sombre rabbinical reflection is not necessarily every girl’s idea of a romantic soiree, but nonetheless I accepted. And so it was that I found myself sitting opposite the guest of honour, Widdecombe, a situation that only added to the surreal nature of the event. Widdecombe was Shadow Home Secretary at the time, and terrifying on many levels. She was formidable, both physically and intellectually, and dominated the room and the discussion. But even though I was a complete nonentity, she still made an effort to chat to me and listened patiently as I waffled on. I left thinking she was much nicer, and saner, than people gave her credit for. Over the course of the next two decades, as politics came to dominate my life, my respect for Widdecombe and others like her only increased. I began to understand just how hard it is to stick to your principles in a world that mocks and vilifies anyone who dares sail against the prevailing winds of fashionable liberal consensus. I experienced first-hand how the constant and deliberate misrepresentation of a person's motives and character slowly but surely starts to twist people out of shape. I saw, unequivocally, the abyss that opens between the public persona and the private individual, and how the two can become very different, often conflicted, entities. The extraordinary thing about Widdecombe was that she seemed entirely immune to all this, which was what I admired so much about her. I didn’t really share many of her views, but I was impressed by her defence of them. It takes a core of steel to be so resilient in the face of so much vitriol and mockery over the course of several decades. And yet she somehow managed it. She was unfailingly true to her principles and courageous in her convictions, which is why it is so tragic that, having withstood the brickbats of public life, she appears to have been struck down brutally in her own home. It’s also why some of the reactions to her death shocked and angered me profoundly. Peter Tatchell, the veteran gay rights activist, called her a ‘bigot’ in a vicious post on X. Adam Boulton, the presenter, delivered a eulogy on her life which characterised her as a ‘spinster’ and an ‘old maid’, as though that was the only notable thing about her. A trans woman by the name of Heather Herbert expressed a desire that Widdecombe suffered ‘an extremely painful death’ and that she ‘was handcuffed to the bed as she screamed in agony’. All these people have since apologised and deleted their posts, but not before similar sentiments were echoed across social media from Left-leaning groups or individuals. In death, as in life, she was dangerously misrepresented by people operating under the banner of so-called tolerance, but whose behaviour marks them out as anything but. The uncle of a man held on suspicion of the murder of Ann Widdecombe has told the BBC how he “nearly fell to the floor” when he heard his nephew had been arrested. “My legs went like jelly,” he said. “He's the last person I would think would do anything like that.” He lives near his nephew, although he has not seen him properly for about 10 years. He remembers him as a “quiet and unassuming boy” who was “gentle and polite” and “everything that a shy, young boy would be”. Former MP Widdecombe, 78, is believed to have been attacked at her home in Haytor, Devon on 8 July. Her body was discovered a day later, and she had sustained serious injuries, police said. A white British man, 28, arrested on Saturday in South Yorkshire, is being held on suspicion of murder and on suspicion of commission, preparation or instigation of acts of terrorism. Counter terrorism police said on Tuesday they believe she was killed in a “targeted attack”, but they are still working to understand the motive. Speaking to the BBC in Rotherham, the man, who we are not naming, said his nephew had been living with his father until his death a few months ago. A woman who lives near the suspect also said that she did not see her neighbour very often. Courtney Foster said “he used to take his dad out shopping while he was still alive, but since then he never really went out much”. She said a car left the property in Rotherham between 07:30 and 08:00 BST on Wednesday last week and was back by around 17:30 or 18:00. “I was quite surprised at the time. I thought ‘oh, the car's gone,’” she added. His uncle said: “Things don’t add up … To drive all that way and back in one day takes some doing. I would drive past his house nearly every day and 99 times out of a 100 the car would be there.” Tributes have been paid to Widdecombe since the announcement on Friday of her death, while news that a murder investigation had been launched has been met with shock and prompted wider discussion about the safety of MPs. She served as a Conservative MP for Maidstone in Kent for 23 years and worked as a Home Office and employment minister in John Major’s government between 1994 and 1997. After leaving Parliament, she appeared on Strictly Come Dancing in 2010 and Celebrity Big Brother in 2018. Widdecombe became an MEP for the Brexit Party, representing South West England in the European Parliament between 2019 and 2020, and in 2023 joined Reform UK after the party changed its name from the Brexit Party.