What does Natalie Elphicke’s defection to Labour mean for the Tories?
As Rishi Sunak loses his second MP in two weeks to the opposition benches, Sean O’Grady looks at the history of high-profile defections – and at what this one says about the state of the Conservative Party
Everyone loves a defection, but Natalie Elphicke’s switch from the Conservatives to Labour has raised more than the usual quota of questions. Unlike, say, the defection of Lee Anderson from the Conservatives to Reform, which was entirely predictable, Elphicke’s move has left friend and ex-friend alike somewhat mystified.
Though no one’s idea of an intellectual, Elphicke has always presented as an unusually partisan Tory and, as MP for Dover and Deal, an enthusiastic supporter of “stop the boats” and government immigration policy, with only the caveat that the latter wasn’t hard enough. She was also a devout Brexiteer, though in this case despite, rather than because of, the fact that she represented the major Channel port of Dover in parliament.
Generally she was seen as being on the centre-right of the party, and supported Penny Mordaunt and then Liz Truss for the leadership in 2022. No one, in other words, saw this one coming, and Keir Starmer made the most of the “prize” at Prime Minister’s Questions, with most of those in the chamber unaware of her switch until they spied her on the opposition benches.
Indeed, many would have assumed that if Elphicke was going to defect anywhere, it would be to Reform UK, who would have loved to have her as an anti-migrant warrior.
Anyway, she’s ratted, and her ex-colleagues are confused and angry about it. What is going on?
Why did Elphicke defect?
She says the Tories have abandoned the centre ground and reneged on the promises that were made in the 2019 manifesto (albeit those two things are somewhat incompatible). She also judges Sunak to be incompetent (even though she tolerated and supported Boris Johnson and Truss). In her statement, she cites the “key deciding factors” as housing and “the safety and security of our borders”. She adds, in words that, even a few days ago, no one would have dreamt that she might say: “The Labour Party has changed out of all recognition.”
Was there a deal?
Usually there is, of some kind. Elphicke will stand down as an MP at the next election, so Labour might have some new role in public life lined up for her, probably with a peerage chucked in. She’s been a longstanding campaigner on housing, for example, so a ministerial or quango role might fit. Or she may just want an easier time as a backbencher in the Lords.
Those who defect between the main parties, in either direction, usually do so via one of the following routes:
- Straight defection to become a member for the same seat but a different party, usually at the next general election (or more rarely by triggering an immediate by-election). This was the path chosen by Christian Wakeford, elected Tory MP for Bury South in 2019. He “crossed the floor” in 2022, and will almost certainly be the Labour member for the seat in a few months; as a Tory, he’d have faced certain oblivion.
- Defection but standing down at the next election, with no great expectation of anything bar a peerage. That is more or less what happened in the case of Europhile Tory Peter Temple-Morris. In 1997, deeply unhappy over Europe and hounded out by his Tory colleagues, he became a Labour MP for the rest of the 1997-2001 parliament. Tony Blair put him in the Lords. Baroness Elphicke of Dover may be with us shortly.
- Defection, switching seats, and possibly going on to ministerial office, in the Commons or the Lords. A prime example of this would be Shaun Woodward, an ambitious Tory type who turned to Labour in 1999 over Tory homophobia. In due course he switched seats from safe Tory Witney to safe Labour St Helens, and became a cabinet minister under Gordon Brown. There is speculation that something like that lies in store for Dan Poulter, doctor and former Tory and now Labour MP for Central Suffolk and North Ipswich. He defected only a week ago.
Will there be more defections?
It feels likely, though whether to Labour, Reform, or the Liberal Democrats (who used to be better at this) is anyone’s guess. Defections on any scale usually take place when a party is in a state of tangible decay, and the number can be substantial. The exodus of around 30 Labour MPs to the newly formed SDP in 1981-82 played a significant role in Labour’s subsequent general election defeat and its subsequent re-founding as New Labour.
To a lesser extent, that is also true of the departure of a number of anti-Corbyn Labour members in 2019 to the Independent Group/Change UK.
Historically, Tories are far less likely to peel off. Even at the height of the Blair ascendancy, and despite his image of a man who carried all before him, he only attracted four, and Brown only “bagged” one. So Starmer is doing quite well with his three so far; and Ed Davey a bit worse than Paddy Ashdown, who got two over the line in the 1990s (Emma, now Baroness Nicholson, and Peter Thurnham).
Do defections matter?
With rare high-profile exceptions, the personalities crossing the floor rarely change the course of history – with notable exceptions. Had Joe Chamberlain not led so many Liberal colleagues to ally themselves with the Tories over protectionism in the late 19th century, things would have been different for both his old party and his new. Winston Churchill has the rare distinction of having been a big enough personality to survive crossing the floor twice between his Liberal and Conservative allegiances (“Anyone can rat, but it takes a certain amount of ingenuity to re-rat.”). Had he stuck with the Libs, his political career would have been over by 1924.
Arguably, the Gang of Four (Roy Jenkins, David Owen, Bill Rodgers and Shirley Williams) did in the end “break the mould” of British politics by pushing Labour back to the centre after the 1980s; but they certainly helped keep Margaret Thatcher in power.
The main point about defections is to reinforce a usually existing public impression of a political party so much in crisis that it cannot even hang on to its own usually loyal MPs, let alone its voters. Elphicke, obscure and mercurial as she is, proves the point rather well.
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