Reform's £72m windfall: Power and peril from billionaire backers

Reform UK has landed a windfall that would make most political strategists dizzy: £72 million in donations from two cryptocurrency billionaires, Ben Delo and Christopher Harborne, each contributing £36 million. The sum exceeds what every major party—Labour, Conservative, Liberal Democrats, Greens, and Reform itself—spent combined during the 2024 general election. On paper, it is a war chest of historic proportions. But the party's leadership faces a problem that money alone cannot solve.

Reform has framed these donations as a necessary correction. The party argues the funds simply level the playing field, pointing out that in 2024, when the major parties collectively spent roughly £65 million, Reform received less than a tenth of that total. Labour's campaign budget was more than five times larger. By this logic, the new money merely brings Reform into competitive range with the established parties. The timing, however, complicates the narrative. An election is nearly three years away, and even if Reform believes Prime Minister Andy Burnham might call a snap election as early as next May, the donations arrive at an oddly distant moment.

The practical implications are substantial. With £72 million, Reform could theoretically employ a new staff member in every UK constituency through the election cycle. The party's electoral machine could expand dramatically, targeting marginal seats with resources most smaller parties can only dream of. The money buys advertising reach, field operations, data analytics, and organizational depth. In a conventional campaign, this would translate directly into electoral power.

But the source of the money creates a vulnerability that transcends campaign mechanics. Delo and Harborne are strikingly similar figures: both made fortunes in cryptocurrency, both are geographically removed from ordinary British life. Harborne is based in Thailand, though registered to vote in the UK, while Delo recently returned to Britain from Hong Kong. When Nigel Farage presents Reform as the authentic voice of ordinary Britons—the party's central claim—opponents now have a simple counter: Reform is bankrolled by billionaires so disconnected from everyday life that their wealth exists in a realm most voters cannot fathom. The irony cuts deeper because Reform's policy platform includes pledges to liberalise cryptocurrency regulation in the UK, changes that would almost certainly enrich both donors. The party insists this was its position before attracting such funding, but the appearance of alignment between donor interests and party policy is difficult to unsee.

The second problem is more immediately damaging. These donations have refocused attention on Farage's own financial entanglements and the accumulating cloud of questions around his conduct. Harborne previously gave Farage a personal gift of £5 million, which Farage failed to declare when entering parliament. The parliamentary standards watchdog is investigating whether this constitutes a breach of MPs' rules. Farage only disclosed the gift after The Guardian reported it in April, triggering not only the standards inquiry but also a byelection Farage fought ostensibly to clear his name. In the months following, Farage notably reduced his public schedule, cancelling regular press conferences to avoid difficult questions.

Then came the Channel 4 News investigation. Undercover footage broadcast a week before Reform's annual conference appeared to show senior party officials discussing ways to circumvent electoral law restrictions on foreign donations, with Farage apparently informed of these conversations. The party denies wrongdoing, but two key aides—Dan Jukes, Farage's de facto chief of staff, and James Orr, Reform's head of policy—have been suspended pending a police investigation into potential violations.

Reform's optimistic calculation is straightforward: £72 million buys enough advertising to overwhelm negative coverage. Senior figures, including deputy leader Richard Tice, have spoken of being "at war" with traditional media, suggesting the party believes it can simply outspend its critics into irrelevance. But electoral politics under Britain's first-past-the-post system does not work that way. Winning requires not only energising your base but also ensuring you do not become so toxic that voters across the spectrum unite to prevent your victory. Current polling suggests this is already happening. Increasing numbers of voters view Reform and Farage not merely as undesirable but as shifty and dishonest, and they have indicated willingness to vote tactically—for whichever candidate can stop Farage—regardless of their own preferences. The question now is whether another £72 million from extremely wealthy men will reinforce those perceptions or whether the party can spend its way past them. The evidence so far suggests the former is more likely.