Sir Conor Burns has been a member of the Conservative party since 1986. He was Member of Parliament for Bournemouth West from 2010 to 2024 and is a former trade envoy to the US and former Minister of State for Northern Ireland.
As Kemi Badenoch begins to demonstrate that the Conservative Party may have a future after its disastrous defeat in 2024, a particular line of attack against her has become increasingly conspicuous.
It isn’t about her economic policies, her record in government or her leadership of the opposition. It is about where she comes from, the circumstances of her birth, her Nigerian heritage and, increasingly, whether she is entitled to regard herself as British.
Some of this comes from the familiar extremes of political discourse. More troubling is its appearance among commentators with longstanding connections to the mainstream political right, including people associated with Nigel Farage and the world surrounding Reform UK.
It is worth being precise about what is happening, because precision matters when making accusations of this kind.
I am not suggesting that Reform voters generally share these views. Indeed, there is evidence that many of them have become considerably more positive about Badenoch. Nor am I suggesting that criticism of her policies, or disagreement with her understanding of national identity, is inherently racist.
But there is a distinction between questioning someone’s political judgement and repeatedly suggesting that their ancestry makes them somehow less authentically British.
And it is a distinction that some of Badenoch’s critics appear increasingly willing to blur.
Consider Raheem Kassam, a former senior associate of Nigel Farage and now editor-in-chief of The National Pulse.
Kassam has reportedly described Badenoch as a “Nigerian Scammer” and an “Anchor Baby”, and circulated material suggesting she was a “Cameron DEI hire”. These are not allegations invented by her supporters. They were well documented by this site’s own Editor on 9 October.
I knew Kassam slightly many years back. He didn’t like me and the feeling was mutual. He gives off the impression of someone who had his school lunch money taken by the playground bullies and has been exacting revenge from behind a keyboard ever since. He is sulphurous. He relishes personal abuse and attack. I suspect he is a deeply unhappy person.
But the fact that so many have been willing to sacrifice their integrity so publicly by refusing to call out deeply offensive abuse tells of his closeness to Reform and the fear some feel. Watching the squirming evasion of Robert Jenrick as he refused to condemn them was cringemaking. Even people hitherto regarded as having integrity such as Danny Kruger has diminished himself in his attempt to defend the indefensible.
The implications of Kassam’s language are difficult to overlook. The first invokes a familiar national stereotype about fraud. The second imports an American immigration insult into a discussion about a woman born in Wimbledon. The third suggests that her political career owes more to her ethnicity than her abilities.
Kassam disputes that his comments are racist, maintaining that he is questioning Badenoch’s honesty rather than attacking her ethnicity. Reform has said he holds no formal position within the party.
Those distinctions deserve to be recorded. They do not remove the need to examine the language itself.
There is also the matter of repetition.
In recent months, The National Pulse has published a succession of articles drawing attention to Badenoch’s Nigerian upbringing, her Yoruba ancestry and her full birth name. One September article carried a section headed “Dual Loyalty, In Her Own Words”. Another questioned whether her advancement had been assisted by diversity preferences. Kassam himself circulated a video suggesting that Badenoch adopts a false English accent.
It is entirely legitimate to scrutinise a politician’s biography or challenge apparent inconsistencies in their public statements. Badenoch has spoken extensively about Nigeria, Britain and her own identity, and those remarks are fair subjects for discussion.
But when a politician’s ancestry is repeatedly introduced into arguments where it has little apparent relevance, it is reasonable to ask what purpose that emphasis serves.
Nor is Kassam the only example.
Commentator Connor Tomlinson has argued publicly that Badenoch is Nigerian rather than English, extending his argument to her children and to England footballer Bukayo Saka. His position forms part of a broader argument that English identity is fundamentally inherited through ancestry rather than acquired through citizenship, upbringing or cultural belonging.
That is an ideological position, not simply an insult. It deserves to be understood on its own terms and challenged on those terms.
But the implications become much more troubling when applied to individuals born and raised within British society, particularly when the effect is to suggest that some citizens can never fully belong.
Britain First has gone considerably further, publicly promoting a petition calling for Badenoch to be deported to Nigeria for allegedly pretending to be English.
Consider the absurdity of that proposition. A woman born in Britain, who has served as a government minister and now leads one of the country’s principal political parties, is being told that her ancestry should disqualify her from belonging here at all.
Britain First is not Reform UK, and it would be irresponsible to pretend otherwise. But the existence of these different interventions raises a wider question about how arguments over ancestry and national identity are entering political debate.
The timing is also worth examining.
Badenoch’s political fortunes have not transformed overnight. The Conservative Party still faces a formidable challenge in rebuilding public trust, and there is no guarantee that its recent improvement will endure.
Nevertheless, the movement in her personal standing is substantial.
YouGov reported in August that the proportion of Britons believing she was doing well as Conservative leader had increased from 15 per cent the previous October to 38 per cent. The proportion regarding her as a potential prime minister had risen from 8 to 27 per cent.
Perhaps most interestingly, favourable opinion of Badenoch among people who voted Reform in 2024 had increased by 20 percentage points to 53 per cent.
Then came the Conservative conference, followed by a YouGov poll putting the Conservatives on 23 per cent and Reform on 21 per cent.
Even a few polls do not signal political realignment. But these figures show why Badenoch’s personal standing deserves attention, particularly among voters whose support Reform and the Conservatives are competing to secure.
And that brings us to an uncomfortable question.
When a political opponent begins to improve her standing, and when conventional criticism does not necessarily prevent that improvement, does it become tempting for some commentators to question something more fundamental than her policies?
Not whether she is right about tax or immigration, but whether she is really one of us?
I cannot know the private calculations of those making these attacks. Nor does the available evidence demonstrate that Reform’s leadership has organised or authorised them. Some of the arguments about Badenoch’s origins also predate her recent improvement in the polls.
But we can observe that older allegations about her identity have continued to circulate during a period when her political standing has strengthened. We can identify the people repeating them. And we can ask why her Nigerian ancestry has become such a persistent feature of their criticism.
There is a further irony.
Badenoch has spent much of her political career rejecting the suggestion that Britain is an inherently racist country. She has criticised identity politics, opposed diversity initiatives she considers counterproductive, and argued that Britain’s institutions and traditions offer opportunities that should be defended rather than disparaged.
She has also been subjected to racialised attacks from parts of the left, including accusations that she is insufficiently representative of black opinion.
That history matters. Racism does not become more or less objectionable depending on the political allegiance of the person responsible.
But there is something particularly revealing about a strand of political commentary that claims to defend British identity while appearing unwilling to accept that a British-born woman of Nigerian heritage can legitimately claim it.
There is a serious debate to be had about citizenship, immigration, assimilation and the relationship between nationality and ethnicity. Conservatives have every right to participate in it. So do Reform politicians and their supporters.
A country can maintain a strong national identity without pretending that questions of culture, history and belonging are straightforward. Equally, acknowledging ethnic heritage does not require us to deny the legitimacy of a shared civic identity.
What cannot sensibly follow is that a person’s ancestry becomes a standing accusation against them, to be revived whenever their political influence becomes inconvenient.
The Conservative Party’s future should be decided by whether it offers a convincing programme for the country. Badenoch should be judged by her policies, her leadership, her record and her ability to persuade the electorate.
Her critics have abundant material on which to challenge her. That is what democratic politics is for.
But when the argument shifts from what she believes to whether she is authentically British, something more consequential is happening.
The issue is no longer simply Kemi Badenoch who these people insist on referring to by her full pre marriage name of Olukemi Olufunto Adegoke as though (nudge nudge, wink wink) that will send a signal to the British people that they should not vote for this.
It is whether Britishness is a national identity that people can genuinely share, or a status that some will always be told they can never fully possess.
And that is a question with consequences far beyond the fortunes of the Conservative Party.
Meanwhile as that debate continues, I know Kemi will stay focused on rebuilding a credible alternative to Labour. A task made much easier with so many of those now attacking her identity now firmly outside the Conservative family.
Sir Conor Burns has been a member of the Conservative party since 1986. He was Member of Parliament for Bournemouth West from 2010 to 2024 and is a former trade envoy to the US and former Minister of State for Northern Ireland.
As Kemi Badenoch begins to demonstrate that the Conservative Party may have a future after its disastrous defeat in 2024, a particular line of attack against her has become increasingly conspicuous.
It isn’t about her economic policies, her record in government or her leadership of the opposition. It is about where she comes from, the circumstances of her birth, her Nigerian heritage and, increasingly, whether she is entitled to regard herself as British.
Some of this comes from the familiar extremes of political discourse. More troubling is its appearance among commentators with longstanding connections to the mainstream political right, including people associated with Nigel Farage and the world surrounding Reform UK.
It is worth being precise about what is happening, because precision matters when making accusations of this kind.
I am not suggesting that Reform voters generally share these views. Indeed, there is evidence that many of them have become considerably more positive about Badenoch. Nor am I suggesting that criticism of her policies, or disagreement with her understanding of national identity, is inherently racist.
But there is a distinction between questioning someone’s political judgement and repeatedly suggesting that their ancestry makes them somehow less authentically British.
And it is a distinction that some of Badenoch’s critics appear increasingly willing to blur.
Consider Raheem Kassam, a former senior associate of Nigel Farage and now editor-in-chief of The National Pulse.
Kassam has reportedly described Badenoch as a “Nigerian Scammer” and an “Anchor Baby”, and circulated material suggesting she was a “Cameron DEI hire”. These are not allegations invented by her supporters. They were well documented by this site’s own Editor on 9 October.
I knew Kassam slightly many years back. He didn’t like me and the feeling was mutual. He gives off the impression of someone who had his school lunch money taken by the playground bullies and has been exacting revenge from behind a keyboard ever since. He is sulphurous. He relishes personal abuse and attack. I suspect he is a deeply unhappy person.
But the fact that so many have been willing to sacrifice their integrity so publicly by refusing to call out deeply offensive abuse tells of his closeness to Reform and the fear some feel. Watching the squirming evasion of Robert Jenrick as he refused to condemn them was cringemaking. Even people hitherto regarded as having integrity such as Danny Kruger has diminished himself in his attempt to defend the indefensible.
The implications of Kassam’s language are difficult to overlook. The first invokes a familiar national stereotype about fraud. The second imports an American immigration insult into a discussion about a woman born in Wimbledon. The third suggests that her political career owes more to her ethnicity than her abilities.
Kassam disputes that his comments are racist, maintaining that he is questioning Badenoch’s honesty rather than attacking her ethnicity. Reform has said he holds no formal position within the party.
Those distinctions deserve to be recorded. They do not remove the need to examine the language itself.
There is also the matter of repetition.
In recent months, The National Pulse has published a succession of articles drawing attention to Badenoch’s Nigerian upbringing, her Yoruba ancestry and her full birth name. One September article carried a section headed “Dual Loyalty, In Her Own Words”. Another questioned whether her advancement had been assisted by diversity preferences. Kassam himself circulated a video suggesting that Badenoch adopts a false English accent.
It is entirely legitimate to scrutinise a politician’s biography or challenge apparent inconsistencies in their public statements. Badenoch has spoken extensively about Nigeria, Britain and her own identity, and those remarks are fair subjects for discussion.
But when a politician’s ancestry is repeatedly introduced into arguments where it has little apparent relevance, it is reasonable to ask what purpose that emphasis serves.
Nor is Kassam the only example.
Commentator Connor Tomlinson has argued publicly that Badenoch is Nigerian rather than English, extending his argument to her children and to England footballer Bukayo Saka. His position forms part of a broader argument that English identity is fundamentally inherited through ancestry rather than acquired through citizenship, upbringing or cultural belonging.
That is an ideological position, not simply an insult. It deserves to be understood on its own terms and challenged on those terms.
But the implications become much more troubling when applied to individuals born and raised within British society, particularly when the effect is to suggest that some citizens can never fully belong.
Britain First has gone considerably further, publicly promoting a petition calling for Badenoch to be deported to Nigeria for allegedly pretending to be English.
Consider the absurdity of that proposition. A woman born in Britain, who has served as a government minister and now leads one of the country’s principal political parties, is being told that her ancestry should disqualify her from belonging here at all.
Britain First is not Reform UK, and it would be irresponsible to pretend otherwise. But the existence of these different interventions raises a wider question about how arguments over ancestry and national identity are entering political debate.
The timing is also worth examining.
Badenoch’s political fortunes have not transformed overnight. The Conservative Party still faces a formidable challenge in rebuilding public trust, and there is no guarantee that its recent improvement will endure.
Nevertheless, the movement in her personal standing is substantial.
YouGov reported in August that the proportion of Britons believing she was doing well as Conservative leader had increased from 15 per cent the previous October to 38 per cent. The proportion regarding her as a potential prime minister had risen from 8 to 27 per cent.
Perhaps most interestingly, favourable opinion of Badenoch among people who voted Reform in 2024 had increased by 20 percentage points to 53 per cent.
Then came the Conservative conference, followed by a YouGov poll putting the Conservatives on 23 per cent and Reform on 21 per cent.
Even a few polls do not signal political realignment. But these figures show why Badenoch’s personal standing deserves attention, particularly among voters whose support Reform and the Conservatives are competing to secure.
And that brings us to an uncomfortable question.
When a political opponent begins to improve her standing, and when conventional criticism does not necessarily prevent that improvement, does it become tempting for some commentators to question something more fundamental than her policies?
Not whether she is right about tax or immigration, but whether she is really one of us?
I cannot know the private calculations of those making these attacks. Nor does the available evidence demonstrate that Reform’s leadership has organised or authorised them. Some of the arguments about Badenoch’s origins also predate her recent improvement in the polls.
But we can observe that older allegations about her identity have continued to circulate during a period when her political standing has strengthened. We can identify the people repeating them. And we can ask why her Nigerian ancestry has become such a persistent feature of their criticism.
There is a further irony.
Badenoch has spent much of her political career rejecting the suggestion that Britain is an inherently racist country. She has criticised identity politics, opposed diversity initiatives she considers counterproductive, and argued that Britain’s institutions and traditions offer opportunities that should be defended rather than disparaged.
She has also been subjected to racialised attacks from parts of the left, including accusations that she is insufficiently representative of black opinion.
That history matters. Racism does not become more or less objectionable depending on the political allegiance of the person responsible.
But there is something particularly revealing about a strand of political commentary that claims to defend British identity while appearing unwilling to accept that a British-born woman of Nigerian heritage can legitimately claim it.
There is a serious debate to be had about citizenship, immigration, assimilation and the relationship between nationality and ethnicity. Conservatives have every right to participate in it. So do Reform politicians and their supporters.
A country can maintain a strong national identity without pretending that questions of culture, history and belonging are straightforward. Equally, acknowledging ethnic heritage does not require us to deny the legitimacy of a shared civic identity.
What cannot sensibly follow is that a person’s ancestry becomes a standing accusation against them, to be revived whenever their political influence becomes inconvenient.
The Conservative Party’s future should be decided by whether it offers a convincing programme for the country. Badenoch should be judged by her policies, her leadership, her record and her ability to persuade the electorate.
Her critics have abundant material on which to challenge her. That is what democratic politics is for.
But when the argument shifts from what she believes to whether she is authentically British, something more consequential is happening.
The issue is no longer simply Kemi Badenoch who these people insist on referring to by her full pre marriage name of Olukemi Olufunto Adegoke as though (nudge nudge, wink wink) that will send a signal to the British people that they should not vote for this.
It is whether Britishness is a national identity that people can genuinely share, or a status that some will always be told they can never fully possess.
And that is a question with consequences far beyond the fortunes of the Conservative Party.
Meanwhile as that debate continues, I know Kemi will stay focused on rebuilding a credible alternative to Labour. A task made much easier with so many of those now attacking her identity now firmly outside the Conservative family.