At the Conservative Party conference in Manchester this week, the mood among party faithful has been anything but celebratory. With the rise of Nigel Farage’s Reform UK party casting a long shadow, the Tories are grappling with defections, plummeting poll numbers, and existential questions about their future. The drama has unfolded against a backdrop of internal soul-searching, public policy clashes, and a palpable sense of urgency as the party seeks to redefine itself in the face of mounting challenges.
On October 7, 2025, the crisis became impossible to ignore as at least 20 Conservative councillors announced their defection to Reform UK, swelling the ranks of Farage’s party and sending a clear message about the depth of dissatisfaction within Tory ranks. According to BBC, Reform UK unveiled a further 20 Tory defectors on local councils, adding to a growing exodus that has seen the party welcome over 150 defections from all political parties since the last general election. Reform now controls 12 county councils and boasts nearly 900 councillors nationwide.
The Conservative leadership’s response to this hemorrhaging of support has been fraught with tension. Kemi Badenoch, the party’s leader, launched a staunch defense of her position during an interview with Nick Ferrari at Breakfast, insisting that she was “shedding the baggage of the last 14 years” and rebuilding the party from the ground up. “We need people who are in our party for the right reasons,” Badenoch stated, pointedly distancing herself from Reform UK’s policies, which she characterized as favoring increased welfare and nationalization—“Those are not conservative policies. We are the only party of fiscal responsibility.”
Despite these reassurances, the numbers tell a sobering story. Polling for the Conservatives has plummeted from 26.5% to just 16% during Badenoch’s tenure, with party membership falling from 131,000 to 123,000 and over 100 councillors lost. Yet Badenoch remained defiant, arguing that “these polls are not accurate” and that the true measure of success would be at the next general election. “Take time to change the party, turn the policies around and make it clear what we stand for. Not rush outs with fly by night announcements. And that’s what I’m doing,” she said.
Meanwhile, Nigel Farage has not missed the opportunity to twist the knife. In a statement welcoming the new defectors, Farage declared, “The Conservative party is dead and can no longer serve as an effective opposition. It is no wonder that Councillors who actually want to fix this country are finding their natural home with Reform.” The message was clear: Reform UK is positioning itself as the new home for disaffected conservatives and those hungry for radical change.
The sense of crisis was echoed by senior party figures. At a packed fringe meeting, former Brexit minister Lord Frost delivered a stark warning about the party’s prospects. “We have to be honest about the situation we find ourselves in,” Frost said, noting the loss of 10 million votes between the 2019 and 2024 general elections and a poll rating in apparent free fall. “Everything is getting worse and it has done so consistently since November last year. We were on 25% of the vote then, we are on 16% of the vote now. So no prescription for the party works unless we accept that the situation is really bad and we are on the edge of ceasing to exist as a mainstream party.”
Frost’s prescription? A shift to the right on policy and a clearer definition of what the Tory party stands for, with no place for those who do not agree. “We need to stop rubbishing Reform or at least stop rubbishing people who vote for Reform,” he said, drawing cheers from the audience. The call for unity on the right was palpable, with many party members expressing discomfort at attacks on Farage, whom they still view as “one of their own.”
Not all senior Tories share Frost’s gloom. Former Brexit Secretary David Davis struck a more optimistic note, suggesting that economic turmoil could present “enormous opportunities” for the Conservatives. Davis drew parallels with the late 1970s and Margaret Thatcher’s rise to power, arguing that if another crisis hits, “then Badenoch will be the right answer too.”
Yet the party’s attempts to rally around its traditions have often felt more like nostalgia than renewal. The conference featured an exhibition of Margaret Thatcher’s clothes—an almost too on-the-nose symbol of a party struggling to fit itself back into its former glory. Guardian columnist Marina Hyde observed wryly that after so many failed attempts to emulate Thatcher, “it’s just possible they should smash the glass slipper and get on the apps instead.”
Amidst the political theater, policy battles have raged as well. Shadow Environment Secretary Victoria Atkins took aim at Reform UK’s trade proposals, particularly Farage’s openness to importing chlorinated chicken and hormone-treated beef as part of a US trade deal. Atkins dismissed Farage’s comparison of chlorinated chicken to salad, quipping, “Lettuce doesn’t poo.” She warned that such policies would “enable foreign farmers to flood our UK market with chlorinated chicken and hormone-treated beef,” threatening both the survivability of British farms and decades of progress in animal welfare. “You cannot look at chlorinated chicken and say that we’re prepared to step back so fundamentally in animal welfare,” Atkins insisted.
For many observers, the conference highlighted a party caught between the ghosts of its past and the disruptive force of Reform UK. John Curtice, the polling guru, offered a blunt assessment: “At the moment you frankly can’t even see the Himalayas.” He noted that the Liberal Democrat vote is now more geographically concentrated than the Tories’, and that the electoral system is treating the Conservatives as it once did the Lib Dems—setting the stage for a possible rout at the next election.
Despite the doom and gloom, there were flashes of bravado. Shadow Chancellor Mel Stride insisted, “Let’s face it, we’re the only party that gets it,” while Shadow Justice Secretary Robert Jenrick promised to “take our country back” in a speech that nodded to the party’s rightward shift. Yet these declarations rang hollow for many delegates, as the reality of defections and dwindling support set in.
As Kemi Badenoch prepares to address the conference, the stakes could hardly be higher. Her ability to chart a course through these turbulent waters—and to respond to the threat posed by Farage and Reform UK—may well determine not only her own political future but the fate of the Conservative Party itself.
In a week marked by introspection, division, and high political drama, one thing is certain: the battle for the soul of the British right is far from over, and the outcome remains anyone’s guess.
