This article is re-posted from the website of the Libertarian Alliance, which gives a blanket permission to do so, subject to certain provisions. The original article can be found at https://libertarianism.uk/2025/09/16/danny-kruger-and-the-kiss-of-death/
Dr Sean Gabb
It is no surprise that Danny Kruger, the Member of Parliament for East Wiltshire, has crossed the floor to Reform UK. The Conservative Party is finished, and every backbencher with a nervous constituency association is now scrambling for a new flag of convenience. Mr Kruger’s most fitting alternative to a party endorsement at the next election is probably to be pushing trolleys round a Tesco car park. Club subscriptions must be kept in good order, and I do not condemn him for preferring a Commons seat to a fluorescent tabard. Rationality has its place in politics.
I do, however, condemn Reform UK for admitting him. Here is a man who has sat on the Conservative benches since 2019. During that time, he did not resign the whip when Britain’s departure from the European Union was sabotaged. He did not resign during the two lockdowns, when the State chained the population indoors and closed the economy. He did not resign when state employees were compelled to inject themselves with vaccines already suspected to be harmful, and which increasing numbers now regard as a disastrous experiment. He did not resign over the Online Safety Act, or over the highest levels of borrowing and state spending since 1945, or over the highest inflation since the 1970s. He did not resign when the Conservative Party promoted leftists throughout every institution of state, nor when immigration reached record levels despite solemn promises it would be cut. He did not resign when the Government stumbled into a shadow war with Russia, in which perhaps several million men have been killed to keep the City banks solvent.
Any man of honour would have resigned in April 2020, when it became plain that the Johnson Government had turned Britain into a police state. Mr Kruger did not. He has sat tight, drawing his salary and pension entitlements, waiting for the day when the brand “Conservative” ceased to guarantee employment. That day has now arrived, and he has decided that “the Conservative Party is over, over as a national party, over as the principal opposition to the left.” Time to move on.
It is not only dishonourable, it is dangerous. He resembles not a defector but a carrier of plague, leaving one infected city for another, contagion festering in his baggage. Reform UK should have turned him away with loud scorn. His acceptance by Nigel Farage is proof that Reform is no vehicle of national salvation but a fraud—another holding pen for discontent, another safety-valve to channel fury back into safe channels.
Labour at least is honest in what it stands for. No one supposes Keir Starmer or his Blairite clerks are our friends. The regime they serve does not pretend to share our values. Farage, on the other hand, shouts that he is on our side, that he will restore border controls, rebuild industry, cut the State down to size. Yet his latest act is to welcome into his ranks a man who voted for betrayal after betrayal between 2019 and 2024. If this is his recruiting standard, a Farage government would make John Major look like Lord Salisbury.
The British right does not need another safe house for failed Conservatives. It does not need another talking shop of cast-offs, eager to mutter against immigration while voting for censorship and war. What it needs is a party that understands this country is ruled by a financial oligarchy entrenched in the City of London. It needs a party willing to break the power of that oligarchy, end the surveillance laws, close the borders, and restore a society fit for free men to live in.
Reform UK will not do this. It will stagger forward with its new Tory baggage, bleating about tax cuts, whining about “woke,” but touching nothing essential. It is not an opposition, but an impersonation of opposition. The acceptance of Danny Kruger is not a bold stroke—it is the kiss of death.
Until a real party of the right arises, we are better off under Labour. At least the enemy declares himself. Better a clenched fist than the hand that proffers friendship while fumbling for your throat.