
On days like these you can’t help feeling you’re living in a parallel universe. Either I’m going mad or Keir Starmer is. The third possibility that we’re both going mad is too disturbing to contemplate.
What to make of the prime minister’s Sky News interview at the G7 in Évian in which Starmer graciously offered Andy Burnham a “big role in government” if, as expected, he wins the Makerfield byelection on Thursday?
Say what you like about Keir, but he certainly has a strong line in denial. There is no reality he can’t twist. It’s the key to understanding his survival skills. But this time, it’s not going to save him.
Just imagine the conversation. “Congratulations on your return to Westminster, Andy. I’ve got some great news. I’m going to sack Steve Reed and offer you the job of secretary of state for communities, housing and local government. Steve who?, you say? We can do great things together.”
There’s no denying that Burnham does have his eyes on a big role in government. Unfortunately for Starmer, the role he has in mind is the prime minister’s. To think otherwise is delusional.
It may not be fair. Keir is fundamentally a decent man. He inherited a poisoned Tory legacy. One that would have defeated many a better politician. He’s tried his best. Done some good things. But decency is not enough. Labour MPs and members have overwhelmingly decided they need a better communicator. Someone who can connect with voters. Tell a story. And the only game in town is Andy.
Yet Keir is not going down quietly. Given the choice of leaving with dignity and the thanks of the party or fighting on, he says he will contest any leadership battle. At least he does now. Come the weekend, he may have changed his mind. There may be cracks in his iron-clad denial. Persuaded that it wouldn’t be in his or the party’s interest to fight an election he was bound to lose. But he’s not there yet. He needs to believe in a hope that isn’t there. Acceptance is a step too far.
“I’m a fighter, not a quitter,” he said, before laughing awkwardly. As if he was remembering that Liz Truss had said much the same thing to him during one of her few exchanges at prime minister’s questions before she too realised it was time to fall on her sword.
But fighting has always been Starmer’s default defence mechanism. In his mind, he’s always been the outsider taking on the establishment. A man who always feels he has been underestimated. And maybe he has been this time, too. It’s just he’s reached the point of no return. He has become an expendable cog in the party machine.
He wasn’t angry, he insisted. He certainly sounded calm. Maybe its the distance between the French Alps and Westminster, or maybe part of him has unconsciously realised there was only one outcome to this. Because those who know him say that he is bitter. That he feels betrayed by cabinet colleagues whom he mistook for friends. No one can blame him for that. When politics is this primal it’s every man or woman for themselves.
“I want Andy to win,” he said. This was perhaps the least convincing moment of the interview. Not that he could very well say otherwise. But you will be hearing the cheers from Downing Street in Brighton if Reform win in Makerfield. No one could miss out on that level of schadenfreude. Just about the only thing that did run true was Keir fan-boying the English team ahead of their World Cup qualifier against Croatia. For a politician, Starmer does the least cringe football chat.
There was more of that at PMQs – or deputy PMQs with Starmer away in France – as nearly every MP tried to manifest their four-yearly interest in football. But even that was more convincing than the main exchanges. Kemi Badenoch has a habit of sending out a different deputy each time she’s away. Partly so that no one on her own frontbench gets too good at it and to remind the Tory party there isn’t a great deal of talent around. Just in case her MPs should get ideas of replacing her. Kemi is never as secure as when she isn’t in the Commons.
Now it’s undoubtedly true that doing well at PMQs is a great deal harder than it looks. But it’s also true that no one makes a difficult job look near impossible than the shadow energy secretary, Claire Coutinho. To call her an intelligence vacuum is something of an understatement. A kindness. You’d have to wait millennia for signs of synaptic activity. David Lammy, who was standing in for Starmer, must have thought all his Christmases had come at once. He’s never going to have an easier ride at the dispatch box again.
Coutinho began with a simple error. An inability to count. She insisted there were few survivors left of Starmer’s original cabinet. Something that just wasn’t true. She would have done better to wonder how many exactly would be in place when Burnham was prime minister. Rachel Reeves looked utterly miserable on the government frontbench. She seems certain to find herself out of a job. Dan Jarvis also looked on edge. His time as defence secretary may be measured in weeks.
In reply, Lammy just pointed to Coutinho’s record. As a treasury minister under Truss she had helped bankrupt the country, and as energy minister she had been a strong advocate for net zero – something she no longer seemed to believe. Assuming she had ever believed anything. More likely she had always just done as she was told. Never had a principle worth fighting for.
The rest of their exchanges was a non-event. It rather looked as if Claire had been coached that morning to act as if she was in a panto. Extravagant hand gestures and misplaced innuendo. Whoever had given her that advice had done her no favours. Even the most loyal Tory backbenchers couldn’t bring themselves to feign enthusiasm. Or interest. Back in Tory head office, Kemi must have been punching the air in delight.
This was 40 minutes that no one would ever get back. The one moment of jeopardy coming when Lammy took on Tory deputy chair, Matt Vickers, for his performance on TalkTV the day before. In case you had missed it, TalkTV is the online broadcaster for those who consider themselves too right wing for GB News. Lammy accused Vickers of “promoting conspiracies” and laughing along to “demeaning homophobic remarks” made by the host, Jeremy Kyle. But Vickers wasn’t going to apologise. No one does any more.
View original source — The Guardian ↗



