It says something about the state of the Conservative leadership contest that even Tory MPs are struggling to get excited about the next three months. “I see them as a pack of quite average greyhounds,” says one MP of the six contenders vying to succeed Rishi Sunak. Others are refraining from publicly backing a candidate on the grounds that they fear in a few years’ time it may all blow up – and they may have to do it all again. But there is one candidate who still manages to attract plenty of attention: Kemi Badenoch. As the bookies’ favourite for the contest, the former business secretary has a target on her back when it comes to the rival camps. She has also had the most scrutiny to date, with sources – first reported by the Guardian – accusing her of “bullying and traumatising” behaviour while running her department. In classic Badenoch style, she has come out swinging against the claims – suggesting “the lefties” are spooked by her campaign as she is the “one person they know can beat Keir Starmer”. This is one of many times Badenoch has taken to social media to criticise an article – her X (Twitter) account often resembles a rapid rebuttal unit. But it also offers an insight into her general approach to politics (and life). As a former minister puts it: “People like to say so-and-so takes no prisoners, but she actually takes no prisoners – she doesn’t leave until there are no bodies left on the battlefield.” Badenoch has a straight talking and combative nature that tends to attract fans and critics in equal measure. To her supporters she is the antidote to an era of beige politicians and the Tories’ slow drift to managerialism. But her opponents see her as a crisis waiting to happen at the very moment the Tory party needs to heal wounds and unite. So, who is the real Badenoch? Born in London in January 1980, she spent her early years in Nigeria before political disruption in the country prompted a move to the UK when she was 16. While she did not join the Tories officially until 2005, she never really had a leftwing phase. Her parents had hopes that she would become a doctor, but instead she studied computing at the University of Sussex. It proved a polarising experience. As she told me a few years ago in an interview for my Women with Balls podcast, she found the university “very left wing” and became “more Conservative” as a result of seeing some of her contemporaries as “spoiled, entitled metropolitan elites in training” who were condescending about Africa. She went on to do a postgraduate degree at Birkbeck, University of London, which was more to her liking. Around this time, a user by the name of “Kemi” was leaving below-the-line comments on a “Naijablog” – an online community focused on Nigeria and matters relating to Africa more widely – which included criticising Diane Abbott for hypocrisy and questioning the merits of politeness: “Most of the people who changed the world for good were notoriously rude.” Badenoch has not denied the comments were from her; they would certainly be consistent with the politician today. Before entering parliament, Badenoch worked as a systems engineer and had a brief stint in digital at the Spectator (unlike Boris Johnson, she never wrote for the publication). She entered parliament sooner than she expected when Theresa May called a snap election in 2017, beating No 10’s preferred choice, Stephen Parkinson (now in the Lords), in the selection for the safe seat of Saffron Walden in Essex. The way she arrived has defined her trajectory. The disastrous election for the Tories meant that the 2017 intake was rather small – that made them very tight-knit. Badenoch’s biggest supporters are in this group. “She has a diehard tribe who came up with her,” says a member of a different intake. “They are fiercely loyal around her.” It’s one of the reasons it’s too simple to say she is only a darling of the Tory right: her support comes from a mix of Tory tribes. Notably, Michael Gove – an enemy of team Truss – backed her when she ran in the leadership contest to replace Boris Johnson. In that contest, Badenoch warned against immediate big tax cuts. However, entering in the 2017 intake also had its cons. In that small group, her backstory stood out – and she became the rising star of the intake, fast-tracked for promotion. “She had the kiss of death – a lot of MPs who have been around longer resent you,” explains a sympathetic colleague. Her first scandal was her admission that she had hacked into Harriet Harman’s website once for a prank. Badenoch was made a vice-chair of the party in 2018, and then had a fast track to ministerial promotion. It might have all been so-so, had those briefs not included identity issues. In 2020, she was given the equalities brief, which saw her lead work on the heavily criticised Commission on Race and Ethnic Disparities led by Tony Sewell; and on gender, where she attracted controversy leading the charge for women-only spaces. Badenoch stuck to her guns on both. Her interventions in these areas mean she is often described as an “anti-woke” warrior. She certainly felt vindicated by the controversial Cass review of gender identity services. “She is most happy when crusading,” says a colleague. She also clearly sees identity and place as underlining her political outlook. In a speech earlier this year on growth and financial services, Badenoch said, “It worries me when I hear people talk about wealth and success in the UK as being down to colonialism or imperialism or white privilege or whatever.” Badenoch clearly has strong views here, but has also felt in the past that she often has to speak on these issues as other colleagues can be a bit squeamish about digging in. “She is more reasonable and sane and calm when you speak to her compared to Suella,” says a colleague. So could Badenoch go all the way and take the fight to Starmer? One member of the prime minister’s team sees her as the most intimidating of the six leadership candidates. But politics in Westminster is largely about making – and keeping – allies. One of Badenoch’s most notable characteristics concerns how she deals with people. “She will speak the same way to everyone – whether it’s a CEO or the prime minister or someone junior,” says a colleague. But this can, of course, lead to problems. When MPs gathered for a recent meeting of the 1922 Committee, one Tory MP started talking about the need for unity, mentioning colourful comments that Badenoch had made criticising the Tory election campaign at shadow cabinet that leaked to the press. Before they knew it, Badenoch, who was near the front, turned around to correct the male MP on the pronunciation of her surname – “Bade-e-noch”. “It was funny, but a little blunt – it was classic Kemi,” one MP who was present tells me. Whether her colleagues believe “classic Kemi” is the antidote the party needs, and one the country can warm to, will decide how far she goes. Katy Balls is the Spectator’s political editor