Peter Franklin is an Associate Editor of UnHerd.
This time last year, Kemi Badenoch’s leadership of the Conservative Party was running out of road. Following Reform’s breakthrough in the 2025 local elections, the polls showed the Conservatives suffering a further, and potentially fatal, loss of support.
Of course, what followed was the Great Kemi Vibe Shift — and the beginnings of a Tory comeback. Nevertheless, Nigel Farage persisted with his kill-the-Tories strategy. The plan was that the 2026 local elections would bring another big advance for Reform (and it did) — but also, it was assumed, another shift in the polls. Surely the Tories would realise that the game was up and wave the white flag.
But it didn’t work out that way, did it? Instead of widening again, the gap between Reform and their stubbornly persistent Tory rivals has narrowed. Polling averages now put the difference at around 5 per cent — compared to 12 per cent a year ago.
So where did it all go wrong for Reform? Last month, I wrote about the party’s fundamental weaknesses. One should also factor in events beyond their control — not least the change in Prime Minister. But today I want to focus on Nigel Farage’s biggest mistakes: the unforced errors that could have been easily avoided. This isn’t an exercise in schadenfreude — well, not exclusively — it’s also about the lessons that Badenoch can learn from Farage’s blunders.
Let’s start with the funding rows that have driven the Reform leader to distraction. In January, Dominic Cummings predicted that the establishment will “make sure that he doesn’t win it by fair means and foul“. That’s not a conspiracy theory, it’s common sense. Of course the insiders want to destroy the disruptive outsiders.
Unless firm evidence emerges to the contrary, I’m going to assume that Farage’s people genuinely believe that they’ve followed the rules. But that’s not the point. The harsh reality is that the judgements that matter most will be made by Reform’s enemies in the media and the parliamentary authorities. A properly thought-out defensive strategy would have made a point of transparency above and beyond the call of duty.
The lesson here for Kemi Badenoch is obvious: she shouldn’t do or say anything without first considering how it might be exploited by the enemy — because, make no mistake, there are powerful forces who don’t want her to win either. She needs a detail-obsessed paladin of compliance to defend her position at all times. Luckily, she has one — the legendary Sheridan Westlake.
There’s another lesson to be learned from Reform’s response to the funding row i.e. the farcical Clacton by-election. Farage admits he didn’t anticipate that the major parties would refuse to stand against him. But he really should have, because the precedent of the 2008 Haltemprice and Howden by-election — where much the same thing happened — was only a Google search away.
But that’s the problem with spasmodic gesture politics — the consequences are so often unintended. If nothing else, it’s an approach that’s unbecoming of a party that needs to be seen as a government-in-waiting.
Kemi Badenoch is prone to the occasional spasmodic gesture of her own. The most recent was removing the whip from Gavin Barwell in the House of Lords. Perhaps the move was inspired by Boris Johnson’s dramatic decision to remove the whip from the 21 Conservative MPs who’d voted against him on Brexit. But that was a make-or-break moment, on which the future of the government — and indeed the nation — was at stake. The same does not apply to the provocations of The Lord Barwell. In any case, there’s no guarantee that expelling someone means they’ll stop being a nuisance — just ask Nigel Farage about Rupert Lowe. Don’t make martyrs unless you absolutely have to.
Instead of exile, there are some internal critics — the constructive ones, at least — who ought to be brought into the decision-making process. Nigel Farage could have done with a contrarian voice when he was deciding whether or not to trigger the Clacton by-election. But, at that moment, he was most likely surrounded by his closest allies — understandable in a crisis, but not such a good idea when you need someone to see past your blind spots.
A strong leader listens to plain speakers. But the strongest leaders of all surround themselves with rivals. Part of the reason why Reform is in such trouble right now is that if, for any reason, Farage has to step down, there’s no one remotely big enough to step into his shoes. Thankfully, the Conservative talent pool is deeper — indeed, Nigel Farage felt it necessary to dip into it himself. Nevertheless, it’s time for Badenoch to do some refreshing of her own.
Surrounding oneself with potential replacements isn’t just a sign of strength — it’s also a long-term necessity. Yes, it’s great that we now have the most popular of the party leaders, but Kemi can’t keep carrying the Conservative Party on her own. She needs senior colleagues capable of sharing the burden. You only have to look at Farage to see that the strain of having to do everything yourself is not sustainable.
To be fair, the process of appointing a Reform shadow cabinet is underway. But that began back in February and the foreign and defence briefs still haven’t been filled. Farage has always relied on his relationship with Donald Trump to burnish his foreign policy credentials. That’s never been without its controversies, of course — but this year, thanks to Trump’s Greenlandic and Middle Eastern misadventures, Reform has been left badly exposed by the association.
The Trump angle isn’t nearly so embarrassing for Badenoch— but in an era when the Americans can no longer be relied upon and the EU is as useless as ever, Conservative geopolitical thinking is in urgent need of an update. Policy deficits are dangerous.
That’s certainly true of Reform on regional and industrial policy. Beyond their well advertised hostility to net zero, the party hasn’t exactly led the debate on how to level-up the British economy. In case they hadn’t noticed, they’ve become the main opposition to Labour across most of Northern England — and they really should have reorientated their economic message in that direction. As we saw in the Makerfield by-election, bog standard populism just doesn’t cut it anymore. But Makerfield was lost, Andy Burnham became Prime Minister and with little more than gimmicks like relocating bits of Whitehall to Manchester, he captured the northern agenda.
Thanks to the events of 2019 to 2024, it’ll be a long time before the Conservatives can seriously compete for the Red Wall again. Nevertheless, we should take note of Burnham’s early success. Certainly, our party needs a pro-growth economic policy that amounts to more than green-bashing and the abolition of stamp duty.
Let’s end where we began — with the failure of Farage’s kill-the-Tories strategy. He’s found out the hard way that long-established institutions die hard. That includes our political parties. Just look at the Liberal Democrats. It’s basically been a century since they’ve had a proper reason to exist and yet they still do. It was, therefore, pure hubris on Farage’s part to imagine that he could compel the Conservative Party — that’s the Conservative Party — to simply give up.
And yet, for the Conservative leader, a “kill-the-populists strategy” would be equally futile. It is conceivable that Reform could implode. It didn’t even exist a decade ago and its roots are shallow. However, the underlying populist impulse is deeply rooted — bound-up with the fundamental flaws of the globalised economy and liquid modernity. Until those are resolved, populism — in one form or another — is here to stay.
Kemi Badenoch should plan accordingly.