In the ever-shifting landscape of British politics, the battle for supremacy on the right has taken an intriguing turn. The defection of former Conservative MP Robert Jenrick to the Reform UK party, followed by his swift dismissal, has ignited a fiery clash between the two factions vying for the leadership of the British right.
The drama unfolding resembles the story of the reggae band UB40, where two estranged groups now share almost identical worldviews – a deep attachment to Brexit, the secular religion of Thatcherism, and a fixation with immigration and the wider culture wars. This family feud, driven by personal animosities as much as ideological differences, has led to a mounting sense that there can be only one viable force on the ideological spectrum.
Kemi Badenoch’s discovery of Jenrick’s planned defection and his subsequent dismissal have taken the battle for supremacy to a new level. Jenrick’s claim that he has left the “Tory posh party” and realised it is “out of touch with the people I grew up around in Wolverhampton” (despite his private education and corporate law background) has only added to the drama.
Nigel Farage, the leader of Reform UK, has sought to steady the nerves of Tory-sceptic allies, insisting that his party is not a “rescue charity for every panicky Tory MP.” However, his less-than-exacting deadline for no further defections suggests that this is indeed a feud within the same political family.
Interestingly, Farage’s own political roots are stereotypically Tory, with his first political epiphany coming in 1978 when Thatcher’s ideological guru, Keith Joseph, lectured at Dulwich College. Farage became a Tory member the following day, only departing the party in 1992. His lieutenant, Richard Tice, also had a long-standing Conservative membership until 2019.
The animosity between the two factions appears to be driven by a desire to remake right-wing politics in their own image. The Reform party leaders, such as Farage and Tice, are not from the Oxbridge-educated Notting Hill set that remodelled the Conservative party under David Cameron and George Osborne. Instead, they seem intent on returning conservatism to the demotic belligerence of the Thatcher era, rejecting the attempts at “modernisation” that followed.
The question remains: what exactly is the difference between the Conservatives and the Reform party? As the new shadow justice secretary, Nick Timothy, pointed out, on issues such as opposition to illegal immigration and the perceived threat of Islamism, the two parties are not far apart. This raises the possibility that the feud may not signify an ideological rupture, but rather a reconstitution of conservatism – one that blends hard-right, authoritarian, and nativist ideas with the usual belief in laissez-faire economics.
As the battle for the British right continues, the outcome may well be a restoration of Conservatism, albeit one that aligns more closely with the worldview of Farage and his ever-increasing band of ex-Tory colleagues. The dire dangers of a Reform UK government cannot be denied, but the shifting sands of British politics suggest that the line between the two factions may be blurrier than it appears.