OPINION | Kemi Badenoch’s Rise and the Pitfalls of Symbolic Representation

By Fẹ́mi Akọ́mọ́láfẹ́

The phrase “here we go again” echoed in my mind as I watched the excitement among Africans—particularly the educated elite—over the election of Kemi Badenoch as the new leader of the UK’s Conservative Party. This enthusiasm, unfortunately, reflects a recurring pattern of misplaced celebration over symbolic representation, often at the expense of critical analysis.

Why do we, despite our education and exposure, frequently abandon critical thinking when it comes to racial, ethnic, or tribal symbolism in politics? Why do we equate the presence of a Black face in a position of power with progress, without questioning the ideologies they represent or the interests they serve?

Badenoch’s ascent has sparked the same misplaced euphoria that accompanied Barack Obama’s election in the United States. In my essay Obama’s Legacy, I described how that illusion left many in the Black world disillusioned. Despite expectations, Obama’s presidency oversaw expanded U.S. drone operations in Africa, the strengthening of AFRICOM, and the disastrous NATO-led war in Libya—actions that left enduring scars across the continent.

Similarly, Badenoch has made it clear she does not see herself as a representative of the Black community. “I’m not interested in being an identity politics figure,” she once said. “I’m here to represent everyone.” While admirable in principle, such statements often signal a detachment from the unique struggles of marginalized communities, particularly when they come from someone who has personally benefitted from diversity policies she now criticizes.

We must stop viewing such ascents purely through the lens of shared ancestry or skin color. Representation must be accompanied by substance. What policies does Badenoch support? What has her party—Britain’s Conservatives—done historically and recently to uplift the communities we claim to celebrate?

The Conservative Party’s legacy, from its complicity in the slave trade to its modern immigration policies, including the Windrush scandal, should caution against blind celebration. This is the party of Enoch Powell’s infamous “Rivers of Blood” speech, and the same party whose leaders continue to resist meaningful reparations for slavery and colonialism.

Indeed, Badenoch’s comment that “the UK is not systemically racist” is a stark denial of historical and contemporary realities. Such positions not only ignore the structural issues Black people continue to face but also undermine legitimate demands for justice and equity.

It is important to note that progress is not achieved by symbolic wins alone. Obama's presidency, while historic, did not shield Black communities in the U.S. from economic hardship or systemic injustice. His administration’s support for Wall Street, expansion of surveillance, and military interventions abroad disappointed many who once saw him as a beacon of hope.

Badenoch’s leadership may follow a similar trajectory—a façade of progress without structural change. Her rise appears less about transforming the Conservative Party’s stance on race, equity, or foreign policy and more about projecting an image of diversity. As such, her appointment risks being another example of “representation without reform.”

This is not to say Badenoch’s personal achievements are insignificant. Her success, particularly as a woman of Nigerian descent, is remarkable. But we must not allow that to distract from the real issues. What does her leadership mean for Black Britons? For African immigrants? For the continent’s relationship with Britain?

Africans must ask deeper questions: How do her views align with the economic realities of African nations still repaying colonial-era debts? How will she influence the UK's position on global development, climate justice, or immigration—issues with profound implications for Africa?

The Conservative Party has long resisted acknowledging the lingering impact of colonialism and slavery. Unlike Jewish Holocaust survivors who have received reparations and formal apologies, African nations and diaspora communities continue to face disdain and indifference when raising similar demands.

Both Labour and Conservative leaders have downplayed these historical wrongs. Former Prime Minister David Cameron, a Conservative with ties to slave-owning families, infamously told us to “move on.” Boris Johnson mocked colonial subjects as “piccaninnies with watermelon smiles.” And more recently, Labour’s Keir Starmer brushed off Caribbean pleas for reparations at the Commonwealth summit.

As Africans, we must resist the temptation to celebrate appointments like Badenoch’s without serious scrutiny. The systems we operate under were designed without us in mind, and often, those who rise within them are conditioned to maintain the status quo—not challenge it.

Let us remember the words of W.E.B. Du Bois: “A system cannot fail those it was never designed to protect.” True progress demands more than shared identity—it requires shared purpose and commitment to justice.

So while I acknowledge Kemi Badenoch’s personal success, I remain cautious. Her rise should prompt reflection, not fanfare. As I wrote of Obama’s visit to Africa, “I welcomed him as our culture demands, but I am not naïve enough to believe his visit would benefit Africa.” I hold the same view of my sister, Kemi.

Fẹ́mi Akọ́mọ́láfẹ́ is an author and social commentator. He writes from Accra, Ghana.