The latest attempt by UKIP to stage a provocative march through Whitechapel has been banned by the Metropolitan Police.
Claiming that the event, on 31 January, was to be apolitical and merely a “March for Christ” to reaffirm the UK’s Christian heritage, Tenconi was plainly trying from the outset to provoke a ban or a community reaction, either of which he could then present as an attack on the Christian faith.
Less provocative
In fact, the police have stopped short of a complete ban and have said that they are happy to consider allowing the march if it is relocated somewhere less provocative than through one of the capital’s largest Muslim communities.
Promoting the march with Tenconi has been the cosplay vicar, Calvin Robinson, who in 2024 upped sticks and beetled off to a cosy American billet in Grand Rapids, claiming that if he stayed in the UK his life was in danger from Keir Starmer and the ‘Satanic’ Labour Party.
He remains, nevertheless, UKIP’s ‘Lead Spokesman’ on Everything.
Nazi salute
In the US he was soon sussed out by the church which had engaged him after he gave a nazi salute at a right-wing rally in Washington.
They fired him after just one day, accusing him of “intentionally antisemitic rhetoric” but his congregation, who seemed to like the cut of his jib, had a whip round to keep him on.
Since then he appears to have acquired an affection for automatic weapons, a fancy which Tenconi has been publicising approvingly.
Humiliating fallout
The latest ban follows the humiliating fallout from Tenconi’s last proposed demonstration in Whitechapel last October, which sparked outrage and condemnation from the local community and anti-racists alike and was also banned by the police.
In the end he had to drag less than 100 of his followers on a pointless march through Knightsbridge.
But behind the public posturing, UKIP’s own internal governance is crumbling and its rule book has effectively been ditched.
According to the party’s constitution, elections for its National Executive Committee (NEC) are required annually, and the committee must comprise at least 12 voting members.
No elections
Currently, only seven hold positions, and despite elections being due last October, none have taken place.
The last NEC minutes posted on the party website are for a meeting in April last year, falling well short of the constitutional requirement of a minimum of six meetings per calendar year, with twelve meetings being preferable.
The party does seem to be sliding into a form of one-man rule, the man in question, of course, being not Tenconi, but the convicted rogue builder Ben Walker. He is also, readers will recall, the controlling force behind the mysterious trust that in turn controls UKIP the party, and its linked limited company.
Such organisational neglect raises troubling questions not just about the party’s compliance with its own constitution, but also its finances. The last recorded donation filed with the Electoral Commission (they have to be reported quarterly) dates all the way back to January 2025.
Soap opera
Meanwhile, UKIP’s internal dramas have spilled beyond the boardroom into something resembling a tabloid soap opera.
The latest episode involves a bizarre clash over Tenconi’s affections, pitting a group of women of a certain age against one another in an increasingly vitriolic online feud.
Francess Kray, a former Reform Party activist from Southend who defected to UKIP, was openly flirtatious, praising Tenconi’s “muscularity” and describing him as “clearly attractive.”
However, tensions erupted when Amelia Randall, a Kent County Councillor for Reform UK who defected to UKIP, allegedly after seeing Tenconi in action in Maidstone, also gave the impression of having ‘Taco’ in her sights.
The ensuing online exchanges were so acrimonious that they defied belief, revealing a seething mix of jealousy, factionalism, and personal rivalry.
Finding love
However, things have now calmed a little as Randall announced a few days ago that she had found love in the arms of Staffordshire-based UKIP activist Terry Dryhurst, whose dubious claim to fame is matching the all-time low vote tally for a UKIP candidate, a mere five votes in the Cannock Chase local election last August.
The previous (sole) holder of that record was party Chairman Walker.
Why he’s called ‘Taco’
Footage from the recent UKIP march in Exeter has provided another instructive insight into Tenconi’s preferred leadership style when confronted directly.
In the clip, a slight man wearing sunglasses steps towards Tenconi, makes no physical contact, and verbally denounces him as a “pro-Nazi piece of shit”.
Now, the language may have left a little to be desired but there was no evidence that an assault was taking place or that Tenconi was under any immediate threat.
Nonetheless, within seconds a group of Tenconi’s bodyguards piled in, surrounding the man and subjecting him to a flurry of shoves, punches and kicks as he fell to the ground and curled up to protect his face, losing his glasses in the process.
Only police intervention appears to have prevented more serious injury.
By that time, however, ‘Taco’ Tenconi is conspicuous by his absence: after a brief moment on camera moving towards the young man, he slams into reverse gear, backs off and disappears rapidly from the scene, not to be seen anywhere in the footage thereafter.
And people ask why he’s called ‘Taco’.
Despite this, he later circulated the video online, boasting that a “leftist tried it” with him in Exeter and had “quickly found out”, a curious claim, given that Tenconi fled the frame with alacrity.
Devon & Cornwall police might usefully examine the video evidence and investigate if there is any basis for charges against Tenconi’s little mob.
Tragedy or farce
For Nick Tenconi, the tragedy is not that UKIP is collapsing, but that it is doing so noisily, messily, and in the manner of a farce.
His planned Whitechapel march may yet be diverted and reduced to another forlorn wander through central London, but one thing is certain: wherever UKIP goes next, it will never again be mistaken for a serious political force.
