A Rainy Afternoon With UKIP's Only MEP in Scotland

There's not long left to go. After months of froth, noise, hyperbole, flotillas, counter-flotillas, expert advice, counter-expert advice, talk of revenge budgets, political jockeying, counter-conversions, alarmist polls, appalling adverts and straight forward deceit, we've hit the home straight. There's just one week to go before the polls open and Britain votes to remain in, or to leave the European Union. This late in the campaign, there are no certainties – as reflected in the agonisingly close polls that show though Leave have taken a slight lead over the past couple of weeks, sparking considerable panic and frantic action from the Remain camp.

Everyone agrees it's too close to call. Yet if there's anywhere in the UK that isn't wobbling on piano wire, it's Scotland. Aside from Northern Island, it's proven to be the most consistently EU friendly part of the country, with Remain in a firm lead both before and during the seemingly interminable campaign.

But even here, things aren't that simple. The last couple of months have witnessed a noticeable, if not alarm inducing, dip in Scottish support for the EU, with a new poll commissioned by Ipsos Mori suggesting a 13 percent dip – from 66 percent to 53 percent – in favour of Remain. Which is why I'm standing in the pissing Edinburgh rain, listening to the man convinced he knows why: David Coburn, UKIP's Scottish Spokesperson and the party's only Scottish MEP

Gritty minutiae, statistics, and endless polling are not the things that really animate Coburn. He is, by his own admission, a man slightly out of time. He says he's "a total libertarian" but certainly not a "cold dead hander, Ayn Rand-esque madman". He thinks of himself more as "a Gladstonian liberal in the John Stuart Mill tradition".

Coburn possesses a good deal of charm, like a roguish, slightly mortifying uncle cutting shapes at a family function. He's evidently highly intelligent, fluent in several European languages and an "avid bibliophile" according to one profile. Of all the criticisms levelled at him, no one has accused him of lacking personality. It's all part of the package.

Yet his loquaciousness has led to a propensity for high-profile gaffes which have led to despair from UKIP party members in Scotland. Most infamously, the comparison of the SNP's Humza Yousaf to the convicted terrorist Abu Hamza "made in jest", attracted near universal scorn and led to calls for his resignation. It's by no means his only blunder.

Only a matter of weeks before last month's Holyrood elections, a letter cosigned by 10 senior Scottish UKIP activists called for Coburn to step down before he caused irreparable harm to the party's electoral chances in the country. It suggested Coburn should "concentrate on doing what he does best – charming people and making friends one on one." Coburn dismissed it as nonsense. UKIP leader Nigel Farage merely laughed it off as petty inter-party jealousy.

Coburn is certainly a prolific conversationalist. In the 45 minutes that I spend with him sheltering from the insistent drizzle, about 50 yards away from a damp looking UKIP Grassroots Out stall staffed by a handful of enthusiastic volunteers, we manage to cover a dizzying array of topics. Maybe "we" is stretching things, slightly. In reality it's a one way verbal cascade of jokes, outrageous statements, withering put-downs and impassioned rhetorical flourishes. It's exceptionally difficult to stick to one topic for long. Owen Jones is "cute but silly", the SNP are a sinister totalitarian party of "bullyboys" bent on crushing free speech with their "damnably dangerous" programme of social Marxism, the BBC are establishment stooges in thrall to the Green party ("Oh they're Green mad! They love Patrick Harvie. He's the closest thing they have to a saint. A secular saint.").

But once we get down to the referendum, it becomes hard to follow his logic. For a start, he's convinced that the Scots are more enthusiastic about Brexit than they let on: "Scotland is the same," he tells me. "That is to say as close [to voting Leave], as England".

I ask how he can believe that in the face of the consistent polling to the contrary?Even the Scottish edition of The Sun hasn't bothered to back Brexit. "People are shy voters here, because they're scared of the SNP," he explains. "Look what happened to Barrhead travel, the cyber-Nats tried to destroy their business ["Yes" supporters tried to organise an online boycott of the travel company in 2014 over the referendum]. If you own a business, or you want planning permission then you don't want to upset the Nats, that's it. And if you work for the state – as a policeman, or nurse, or something – then you'll find you won't get that promotion if you upset them."

This is the Coburn I've heard about: paranoid and conspiratorial, making wild accusations and then moving quickly on. He pauses for about half a second before carrying on. "It means that people are frightened to say what they really think. Think back to the "neverendum" and all the Nats going on about all the "Yes" posters. People didn't fancy putting "No" ones up, because they didn't want a brick through their window!"

So, according to this theory, Scotland is a Eurosceptic nation shackled by the Orwellian SNP and their straightjacket of political correctness, which smothers every aspect of civil life. Surely, I say, that is total bluster?

"Immigration is massive issue here," he continues unabashed. "But they won't let you talk about it, because this is a politically correct state. The SNP have got people terrified. The police go along with it, in fact the senior ranks of the police force in Scotland should be removed. They are absolutely politically correct and kowtowing to the Scottish government."

People not talking about immigration doesn't prove they're terrified of SNP reprisal, I try to point out. It could mean that people generally recognise the positive effects of immigration in a country of six million – a population considerably less than that of London. Great swathes of the country are, to put it mildly, sparsely populated. Couldn't that be the reason people aren't concerned about immigration here.

"I was talking to one of the feminists in the European parliament about this and she was saying, 'isn't it great' and I said, 'listen, if the sort of fundamentalists who run Afghanistan, or whatever, come over with their toxic ideas, then people like me would be stoned to death for being a homosexual.' And she would spend the rest of her life doing the washing up."

That's not a real threat, I say. It bears no relationship to reality. He cuts me off. "It might not today. But your vote means change, in frightening ways maybe. Socialists want to get rid of the nation state, they do not like the working class, particularly not the patriotic working class. That's why Labour have struggled for the past few years. They don't like the electorate."

Coburn seems like just another UKIP xenophobic eccentric, fearful of a future that will never happen. But then he also has this reasonable streak. He almost calms himself down. A minute later he has a think and says, "Yes, the good thing about Scotland is that we have a small population. The good thing about that is that it's a small number of people coming in, so we're able to integrate and get on with it. That's why it works here. But if that was to change…" he trails off almost half-heartedly. You get the occasional sense that even David Coburn doesn't believe the more surrealist David Coburn outbursts.

The activists bemoaning Coburn's lack of anything resembling a filter are right. He doesn't. Yet he's probably right to feel aggrieved when he's characterised as harming the party's electoral appeal. As the only elected UKIP politician in Scotland, he's the party's only tangible figure in parliament. UKIP's share of the vote at the Holyrood elections was infinitesimal.

"I get a good response, people know who I am, which is nice," he grins. "I get a lot of people coming up and asking for selfies, wanting to shake hands and all the rest of it. You do get the odd person who's unpleasant, but the vast majority of people are delighted that myself, and UKIP, are making a fuss."

One passer by doesn't seem particularly delighted, as a conversation erupts into a finger jabbing shouting match. "You're fucking with my daughter's future", the man shouts at the stall. The activists look bemused and the man eventually leaves. One of the odd unpleasant, I ask?

Another roguish grin in return.

After that, the activists start to get a bit testy. I can see Colin Mitchelson – Coburn's minder, office manager and aide – looking nervous. He tells me our time is up. And to be honest, I would quite like to stop standing out in the rain.

So in a final attempt at appealing to his more reasonable side I ask him for a moment of reasonable debate. Can he at least name one good thing that Scotland has gained from the EU? Surely it can't all be bad.

He puffs out his cheeks. "Nothing whatever. Absolutely not. Bad, bad, bad. Freedom of speech is gone. We don't govern ourselves. How in the name of God, could you call that good?"

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