Reform has imported the worst parts of American politics, writes Lewis Goodall

How we saw the huge sums of money - hundreds of millions of dollars - flowing through the thickening veins and arteries of American democracy and thought: that couldn’t happen here.

Yes, American politics was bigger, glitzier, gaudier. Such a show, it took our breath away. But it was a show we wanted to watch, not one we wanted to be in. British politics was smaller. Bawdier. End-of-the-pier. A few warm white wines in a draughty town hall rather than a billion-dollar jamboree beneath the chandeliers of Mar-a-Lago.

But at least, we told ourselves, it couldn’t simply be bought.

Well - as someone once said, we’re not laughing now, are we?

Westminster awoke on Saturday morning to the stunning news that Reform UK had secured another historic donation - following hard on the heels of the last historic donation.

The amount: £36 million.

Yes, you read that correctly. Thirty-six million pounds.

Ben Delo, the crypto billionaire and co-founder of BitMEX, had decided to give Reform the largest single political donation in British history. He said he wanted to ensure a “fair fight” and a “level playing field”.

But no sooner had Westminster caught its breath than another story dropped.

Reform had secured another donation - of another £36 million. All within 48 hours.

Christopher Harborne - or should I say Chakrit Sakunkrit, that’s how British-born billionaire is known in best known in Thailand, where he lives, the owner of a luxury wellness retreat by day, crypto billionaire by night, who had already given millions to Reform, and who gave Nigel Farage a £5 million personal gift which was not declared at the time, well, in a big billionaire energy flourish, decided to match Mr Delo’s donation pound for pound.

So that is £72 million in a weekend. And I was pleased when I found a fiver on the floor.

When Robert Jenrick told me last week that Reform had an excellent fundraising team, well, he wasn’t wrong!

In just two donations, Reform has secured the equivalent of £2 million a month until the next general election, assuming this Parliament runs to its maximum.

That’s more money than every major British political party spent nationally in the entire 2024 general election put together.

Seventy-two million pounds from two men.

Now, Mr Delo and Mr Harborne insist they want nothing in return for this extraordinary largesse.

They say they are motivated only by a desire to see Britain renewed. That they loathe what they see as British decline and regard Nigel Farage and Reform as the only vehicle capable of arresting it.

They argue, too, that Reform is a newish party. That it does not enjoy the deep roots, the property, the networks and the institutional support which Labour and the Conservatives have accumulated over generations.

This money, they say, merely levels the playing field. That it brings Reform’s fundraising into line with the combined efforts of Labour and the Conservatives over several years.

Hmm. Maybe.

But it poses enormous questions - about Reform, about these donors and about British politics itself.

First: the party and the men.

Mr Delo did not simply make his fortune in cryptocurrency. He pleaded guilty in the United States to violating the Bank Secrecy Act after BitMEX failed to establish adequate anti-money-laundering controls. He was subsequently pardoned by… President Trump.

Mr Harborne is a major investor in the crypto industry. He has already donated millions to Reform and gave Mr Farage personally £5 million - a gift now being examined by Parliament’s standards watchdog.

Mr Farage says he did nothing wrong. Reform denies wrongdoing in relation to the wider investigations into its finances.

To repeat - these men say they expect no favours in return. And they are entitled to say that.

But we are equally entitled to ask questions.

Is it right that one political party - a self-described “people’s army” - should become so dependent not merely on billionaires, but on two billionaires who made their fortunes in the same particular, controversial and often opaque industry?

And is it entirely irrelevant that one of the areas in which Reform has produced some of its most distinctive and developed proposals is - you guessed it - cryptocurrency?

A Bitcoin reserve at the Bank of England. Lower capital gains tax on crypto. Friendlier regulation for digital assets. Nigel Farage himself promoting the industry.

Meanwhile, the party has struggled to fill some of the most basic jobs expected of a government-in-waiting. Not least, talking about getting around party donation rules in an undercover sting operation. Boasting that the relevant authorities are toothless and easy to circumvent.

Perhaps these men really do want nothing in return.

But the democratic problem is not solved by saying: trust us.

The whole purpose of a healthy political system is that the public should not have to rely on the personal assurances of billionaires or politicians.

This is bigger than Reform. We have seen big-money politics before. Big business has often discovered a new enthusiasm for Labour when Labour looks likely to win. Wealthy individuals have bankrolled the Conservatives as a matter of course.

Donors have found themselves in the House of Lords with such frequency that the coincidence has become one of the great recurring jokes of British public life.

Labour remains heavily reliant on the trade unions. One of this government’s defining pieces of legislation strengthened rights long sought by those same unions.

Now, those policies may be right. The donors may be honourable. The causes may be good.

But let us stop pretending that money and access live in entirely separate universes. Anyone who tells you money cannot buy influence in British politics is either lying to you - or has never attended a political fundraiser.

Every major party operates donor programmes which grant wealthy supporters access to senior figures and decision-makers.Dinners. Receptions. Private briefings. A quiet word with the leader. A chance to explain your concerns to the people writing the manifesto.

We use the language of philanthropy, but access is the product.

And influence is the possibility being sold.

Of course, politics is rarely so crude as to produce a receipt which reads: “£5 million - one government policy.” Influence works through proximity. Through familiarity. Through whose call gets returned. Through whose concerns are heard. Through whose ideas are regarded as sensible before the meeting has even begun.

It is the difference between writing to your MP and dining with the man who hopes to be prime minister.

And now we are expected to believe that two people can give a political party £72 million -enough to transform its organisation, hire hundreds of staff and alter the balance of the next election - without acquiring so much as an extra ounce of influence.

Please.

This is how the Americanisation of British politics really happens.

Not with marching bands or balloons. Not with conventions, primaries or attack adverts.

It happens when political parties become private vehicles financed by a tiny number of staggeringly wealthy people.

It happens when equality at the ballot box is preceded by grotesque inequality in the contest to reach it.

One person, one vote - but one billionaire, 36 million pounds.

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Lewis Goodall is a Presenter for LBC and Co-host of The News Agents podcast.

LBC Opinion provides a platform for diverse opinions on current affairs and matters of public interest.

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