There is nothing wrong with the Labour leader, Keir Starmer, noting the transformative nature of Margaret Thatcher’s administrations. It is, after all, a fact. Thatcherism bulldozed the postwar consensus of nationalisation, strong trade unions, public housing and progressive taxation in favour of privatisation, a cowed labour movement, flogged-off council homes and tax cuts that predominantly benefited the well-to-do. Britain was reshaped in her image: although she has been dead for a decade, to be a British resident is still to live in Thatcher’s world.
If Starmer wished to similarly transform Britain, but in ways that accord with Labour’s founding principles, this would be cause for celebration. Instead he praised Thatcher for how she “sought to drag Britain out of its stupor by setting loose our natural entrepreneurialism”. So while Gordon Brown described her as a “conviction politician” – objectively true – Starmer explicitly endorsed her in content rather than in form.
The first problem with this is that Starmer is buying into a myth. Economic growth has, since the neoliberal turn, been weak by postwar standards, and that mediocre economic growth has been less equitably distributed. Contrary to claims Thatcherism cured the sick man of Europe, Britain became dependent on property values and financialised assets, sucking wealth into non-productive parts of the economy. More importantly, Starmer’s praise of Thatcher gives us a glimpse into the essentially conservative nature of his project: it is increasingly clear that under a future Labour government, it won’t just be Thatcherism that is preserved, but George Osborne’s and Boris Johnson’s legacies too.
That Osborne was reviled by the Tory right underlines what a spitefully ungrateful bunch they are. He was a zealous champion of that core tenet of modern rightwing politics – rolling back the frontiers of the state – and saw the 2008 financial crash as a convenient means to achieve it. The consequences were, as it happens, disastrous: from the most protracted peacetime squeeze on workers’ wages since the Napoleonic wars to literally crumbling schools. The news that nearly nearly one in five councils are likely to declare effective bankruptcy in the coming months is a sign that we’re still living in Osborne’s world.
When Starmer stood for leader, he offered a break from this self-imposed decline. A Labour government would hike taxes on Britain’s affluent, he argued, and the proceeds would be invested in our crumbling services. Nine months after his leadership triumph, he rejected a repetition of austerity, warning Britain not “to make the mistake we made in 2010 after the financial crash, which was to think that the way through this is to go for austerity and really severe cuts to public services”. He correctly described such an approach as “a complete mistake”, because “it stripped away our public services, stripped away our local authorities and what they could do, increased inequality massively”.
Fast forward nearly three years, and Starmer now declares that “anyone who expects an incoming Labour government to quickly turn on the spending taps is going to be disappointed”. Given Jeremy Hunt’s autumn statement commits the next government to real-terms cuts to departmental spending, it increasingly looks like austerity will remain baked into a Labour government’s spending plans. This is particularly concerning as public services that were hobbled by austerity face growing challenges – not least an ageing population.
Tax hikes on the booming rich are ruled out: instead, Labour argues, it will go for growth. Hardly anyone could be opposed to that as an aim, but here’s the problem: Starmerism doesn’t seem to have any account of what its plan for economic growth is. With tax and spend ruled out – that is, a traditional Keynesian approach – what is left? Tax cuts for private firms? Only last year, Starmer rightly described trickle-down economics as a “piss-take”, but how Labour’s basic economic theory differs wildly from Tory orthodoxy is now deeply unclear. Its proposed £28bn a year green borrowing fund, which could be a strong basis for green growth, has been relentlessly scaled back – whether it survives an election at all is questionable.
If that’s Osborne’s legacy preserved, what about Johnson’s? The former prime minister’s contribution to the Tory legacy was nativism and crude culture wars, with an escalation of migrant-bashing at its core. The new £38,700 household salary threshold for a spousal visa will, for instance, prevent foreign care workers from bringing in dependents: this is not only cruel, it will simply mean fewer workers arrive and our already crisis-ridden care sector will be plunged into more chaos. Labour could easily make an argument against the policy that rests on the grounds of humanity, common sense and economic self-interest. But Labour’s Steve Reed told Sky News on 4 December that he liked the policy, merely suggesting that it should be phased in.
Some may ask: is all of this simply political positioning – Starmer playing the game – or does he believe it? Speaking to those who have worked with him – whichever of Labour’s tribes they belong to – there is a consensus that he lacks a clear politics. Some senior figures believe that he lost his political self-confidence in the aftermath of Labour’s crushing byelection defeat in Hartlepool in May 2021 and outsourced his operation to the Labour right.
And that’s why the question of Starmer’s own private belief system matters little. He has chosen to surround himself with people who, ideologically speaking, echo what Tony Blair spelled out clearly back in 2015 when it looked like Jeremy Corbyn was going to win the Labour leadership contest: that he would rather lose an election than win with an “old-fashioned leftist platform”.
Those hoping this is all one big pretence and, once safely ensconced in No 10, Starmer will yell “Surprise!” and enact a new shiny progressive dawn are set to be most disappointed. And this is now the most interesting question in British politics. When Starmer wins his decisive victory – which he will – and little changes after two years, what happens next?
Owen Jones is a Guardian columnist
