“Zero seats!” was the rallying cry of disillusioned young Conservative voters in Britain at the last general election. Their demand for a total wipeout was directed squarely at one party: their own.
This self-destructive streak has simmered in the Tory party since the country voted in 2016 to leave the European Union. Since then four prime ministers have come and — often unceremoniously — gone. Political shelf lives shortened amid wrangling over Brexit, Covid lockdown scandals, and soaring migration — issues that paint a portrait of incompetence and broken promises.
Predictably, in July, the Tories were ousted by Labour after 14 years in power, limping on with only 121 seats in the 650 seat House of Commons. But the honeymoon period for Sir Keir Starmer’s Labour government ended almost immediately, as its popularity plummeted faster than that of any administration in recent memory. This has made the Tories interesting once again at precisely the moment when they’ve chosen a new leader: Kemi Badenoch.
The Nigerian-raised mother of three, elected today to lead the Conservative party, threatens to be kryptonite for a Labour party wedded to identity politics. A black, female immigrant at the dispatch box is apt to leave Labour frontbenchers — particularly Sir Keir, a one-time BLM kneeler — somewhat stumped. To make matters worse, Badenoch is a persuasive speaker, commanding a charisma and eloquence that Sir Keir — a dull, po-faced lawyer — does not possess.
These qualities have given Badenoch cross-party appeal within the Tories, rallying endorsements from both the left and right. By endorsing her, however, the party has effectively signed a blank cheque, as Badenoch, unlike her opponents, has made few specific pledges. She has chosen instead to reflect on the election loss and the party’s ideological roots; she is prepared to play the long game, hoping this will allow the Tories to “earn back trust.”
On some issues, though, Badenoch is clear. “The government is doing far too much and it is not doing any of it well — and it is growing and growing,” she declared recently. “The state is too big; we need to make sure there is more personal responsibility.” These ideas are common fare among Conservatives, especially in bloated welfare states like Britain — but her zeal for them evokes, for many, memories of Margaret Thatcher. As the political commentator Simon Heffer wrote, “Mrs Badenoch is the politician who most reminds me of Mrs Thatcher since I last saw Mrs Thatcher.” He noted both women’s hard-mindedness, “deep principles,” and grasp of the “art of the possible.”
Badenoch’s Conservatism can be traced, as the writer Tom Mctague has argued elsewhere, to her beginnings in Africa. Having fled Nigeria during a 1996 military coup, she has a keen, outsider’s appreciation for Britain’s core ideals — not least the rule of law and policing by consent. She is therefore a champion of Britain, of both “the good” and “bad” of its former empire, at a time when it is fashionable to denigrate it, precisely because of her first hand experience that these norms are rare and fragile.
Like Thatcher, Badenoch studied a hard science (computing), marking them out in a Parliament filled with lawyers and humanities graduates. And the swift rise of both women, from modest beginnings through the ranks of the Conservative party, suggests that the “art of the possible” is indeed etched into their stars.
Yet comparisons to Thatcher can obscure more than they reveal. While Thatcher was known for “excessive punctuality” and meticulous attention to detail, Badenoch is reportedly often late to meetings and disinterested in reading ministerial briefings. These traits could, at crucial junctures, trip her up in the marathon she must now run over the next four years if she is to return the Tories to power.
The Conservatives’ longing for Mrs Thatcher’s ghost, decades later, points to a party adrift and out of fresh ideas. Yet Badenoch has developed her own brand of Conservatism well-suited to the times. She intends to unite the party around a simple message: Britain is held back by an anti-growth agenda of high tax and hair-shirt climate policies, as well as other cumbersome bureaucracies being imposed on a public that increasingly resents them. If she can effectively convey this message, Labour’s waning popularity could present her with an opportunity to make inroads.
Indeed, there is much low hanging fruit for Badenoch to pick. Labour recently passed a budget which included £40 billion ($72 billion) in tax raises. This high tax, borrow and spend formula is designed to prop up an already bloated public sector at the expense of entrepreneurs and private businesses. The budget, which will define the current Parliament, has already proved deeply unpopular. In opposing it, Badenoch will have the wind in her sails.
Additionally, Labour came to power promising to curtail the influx of illegal migrants crossing the UK’s shores in small boats. However, despite these assurances, tens of thousands continue to arrive, leaving both Labour and the Tories at a loss for effective solutions. As an immigrant herself, Ms Badenoch is uniquely positioned to argue, as she has done, for a model of citizenship that emphasizes responsibilities — “not just passport citizenship,” but a broader commitment to the country and its values.
This issue of immigration, perhaps more than anything else, may decide the fate of future British governments, because many Brits view the stakes as existential. If Labour continues to blunder its way through this parliament, Lady Luck could provide Badenoch with an opening sooner than expected.
Michael Murphy is a journalist based in London. He writes for the Daily Telegraph and presented the documentary ‘Ireland is full! Anti-immigration backlash in Ireland’. You can follow him on X: @michaelmurph_y.