The Deep Betrayal of Nathan Gill

A Personal Reckoning

I have spent much of my career in the trenches of British politics, navigating the stormy seas of Euroscepticism and national sovereignty. As Director of Communications for UKIP, I worked alongside many passionate souls, but few seemed as steadfast as Nathan Gill. He presented himself as the epitome of integrity: a devout Mormon, a hardworking small businessman from Anglesey, a dedicated family man with a wife and many children he adored, and an unyielding Brexiteer committed to freeing Britain from the EU’s grasp.

Nathan wasn’t just a colleague; he was someone I genuinely liked and trusted. We collaborated closely over several years, sharing late-night strategy sessions, plotting media hits, and celebrating small victories in our fight against the Brussels machine. He had that affable Welsh charm, and what appeared to be an unshakeable moral compass. How could anyone doubt a man who balanced running a care home business with raising a large family, all while championing the Brexit cause with fervour?

Yet, cracks appeared early, though I was too trusting to see them for what they were. I remember vividly when Nathan first started raising questions about Ukraine in the European Parliament. This was around 2018, as tensions simmered between Kyiv and Moscow. In my role as UKIP’s comms chief, I gave him a proper rollicking, our party’s focus was Brexit and the UK, not meddling in Eastern European geopolitics. It was completely outside our purview, a distraction that could dilute our message and alienate supporters.

But Nathan countered smoothly, framing it as a matter of freedom of speech, defending the right to question narratives about press freedom and political persecution in Ukraine. He argued passionately that MEPs should speak freely without fear of censorship. I accepted his explanation at face value; after all, we were the party of free expression, weren’t we? It seemed principled, even bold. Little did I know, those “questions” were the opening salvos in a far more sinister agenda.

How wrong I was. My trust in Nathan was not just misplaced, it was foolish, a betrayal that stings deeply even now. The truth, revealed in the cold light of his recent conviction, paints a picture of calculated deceit. Nathan wasn’t voicing genuine concerns; he was parroting scripts fed to him by pro-Russian handlers, pocketing bribes to undermine Ukraine and bolster Moscow’s narrative in the heart of Europe’s institutions.

From December 2018 to July 2019, he accepted cash, thousands of euros, from figures linked to Viktor Medvedchuk, a Ukrainian oligarch and close ally of Vladimir Putin. In exchange, Nathan delivered speeches in the European Parliament criticising Ukraine’s democracy, defending Medvedchuk against treason charges, and even hosting events to promote pro-Russian “peace plans” for Donbass. He toured Ukrainian TV studios owned by Medvedchuk’s associates, and questioned Ukrainian rights to self protection. All while posing as an independent voice.

His business may have been in trouble, running care homes isn’t easy, especially in rural Wales, but his wages as an MEP, plus the generous expenses that come with the role, should have been more than enough to keep him afloat. Over €100,000 a year in salary, plus allowances for travel, staff, and offices, it’s a comfortable life for anyone with scruples. But Nathan chose greed over duty. He betrayed not just his friends like me, who vouched for him, but his colleagues across UKIP, the Brexit Party, and Reform UK.

He let down the tireless volunteers who knocked on doors in the rain to get him elected as an MEP in 2014, the grassroots activists who believed in his vision of a sovereign Britain. And yes, he betrayed Nigel Farage, who trusted him implicitly, elevating him to leadership roles in Wales and beyond. From all accounts, Nathan even attempted to inveigle unknowing colleagues into his web, British and German MEPs alike, coaxing them into making statements or participating in interviews without disclosing the tainted money behind it. They unknowingly, took the reputational risks, while he pocketed the cash. Beyond contempt, beneath it. This wasn’t mere corruption; it was a stab in the back to his country, eroding trust in our democratic institutions at a time when foreign interference threatens us all.

I speak from experience on this. At much the same time, when I was on my uppers, struggling financially after a rough patch, having resigned from UKIP after it veered too close to Tommy Robinson, I was approached by Chinese operatives. They offered tens of thousands of pounds a year to “consult” for them, leveraging my contacts in Westminster and Whitehall. I might sound sanctimonious now, but while they had clearly done their homework on my phonebook and networks, they hadn’t bothered to research me. I turned them down flat, without a second thought (though smiled and nodded until I got out of Hong Kong). One’s country isn’t for sale, not when it means compromising your principles or your nation. Nathan’s actions make my refusal seem quaint by comparison; his betrayal runs deeper, poisoning the well of public life.

What Nathan did was a profound betrayal, one that echoes through the halls of power. Yes, I feel sorry for his family, of course I do. I can’t imagine the pain his wife and children are enduring, the stigma they’ll carry. And the sentence does seem harsh: 10½ years in prison, handed down on 21 November 2025 at the Old Bailey. But Nathan held a position of responsibility and authority as an elected representative. The demands on such figures are greater; the public expects, and deserves, unimpeachable honesty. Mrs Justice Cheema-Grubb’s comments were apposite, capturing the essence of his crimes: “When you say what someone has paid you to say, you are not speaking with sincerity... Allowing money to corrupt your moral compass constitutes a grave betrayal of the trust vested in you by the electorate.” She rightly highlighted how his actions erode public confidence in democracy, tainting political debate with disinformation and undermining the mutual trust essential to our institutions. Bribery, she said, is “a malignancy at the heart of public life,” demanding stern punishment to deter others. In a world rife with foreign meddling, Russian sabotage, influence campaigns, Nathan’s treachery couldn’t go lightly punished.

As for me, forgiveness will be hard to come by. Nathan wasn’t just a colleague; he was a friend I defended, a man I believed in. His fall exposes the fragility of trust in politics, a reminder that even those who wave the flag loudest can sell out for silver. Am I at fault for not realising, yes I suppose I am, but I would contend, who actually knows what goes on in another man’s soul? The divorce courts are full of those who have had their trust breached by those they thought they knew the best.

The Nathan Gill affair isn’t just a scandal, it’s a warning. We must root out such rot before it spreads further, for the sake of our parties, our democracy, and our country.