À l'intérieur du CPAC de Londres: charlatans, théories du complot et ronflements forts

Inside the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) in London, a gathering that promised to showcase the pulse of right-wing politics in the UK, instead revealed a scene marked by sparse attendance, fringe ideologies, and a sense of disconnection from mainstream political discourse. Held in the InterContinental Hotel’s Arora Ballroom in North Greenwich, the event drew far fewer participants than anticipated, raising questions about its relevance and appeal. The conference opened with a speech by former Prime Minister Liz Truss, who served as CPAC’s UK chair. Truss, known for her brief and tumultuous tenure in office, just 49 days in 2022—addressed the crowd with characteristic fervor, calling for the dismantling of the civil service, which she often refers to as “the blob.” Despite her presence, the audience response was muted. When Truss asked the crowd about the new Labour leader, Andy Burnham, the reaction was little more than a few weak boos. The atmosphere was described by one attendee as eerily quiet, with comparisons drawn to the lifelessness of a supermarket clearance bin. Throughout the three-day event, the lineup featured a mix of current and former politicians, along with figures from the far-right and anti-establishment movements. Among the notable speakers were Australian Senators Pauline Hanson and Bridget McKenzie, whose sessions attracted relatively small crowds. The contrast between the high-profile names and the low turnout underscored the challenges faced by the organizers in drawing public interest. The content of the conference further highlighted its niche appeal. Sessions such as “The Truth About Covid,” presented by a prominent anti-vaccine group, reflected the broader themes of skepticism toward government policies and scientific consensus. These panels, while attracting dedicated followers, did little to engage a wider audience. The event also included discussions on topics ranging from immigration to economic policy, but these were often overshadowed by the more sensationalist elements of the program. The physical setting of the conference added to its isolation. Located in North Greenwich, an area once industrial and now partially gentrified, the venue stood in stark contrast to the vibrant cultural hubs of London. Attendees noted the desolate surroundings, with many expressing disappointment at the lack of energy and engagement within the hotel itself. Empty seats dominated the auditorium during most sessions, and even the exhibition areas, intended to provide networking opportunities, remained largely unvisited. Despite the low turnout, the event did attract a younger demographic, with some attendees being far-right activists. One such individual, 19-year-old Lorcan Barker, known online as Angloid, was spotted taking selfies with other young attendees. This suggests that while the conference may not have captured the attention of the broader public, it continues to draw support from politically engaged youth who align with its radical views. The logistical aspects of the event also raised eyebrows. Reports indicated that access to certain areas, such as the VIP section, required a substantial fee of £10,000, leading to speculation about who exactly was attending these exclusive parts of the conference. The disparity between the public and private sections of the event highlighted potential issues with accessibility and inclusivity. As the conference concluded, the overall impression was one of disillusionment and fragmentation. With limited public engagement and a focus on fringe ideologies, CPAC London struggled to present itself as a cohesive platform for right-wing politics in the UK. The event left many questioning whether such gatherings could effectively represent the diverse and evolving landscape of conservative thought in modern Britain.