What exactly do you people want? Sir Keir Starmer has to contend with a progressive Left who call him a traitor and a Right who claim he is an insubstantial opportunist — but he’ll still skip into the general election with a mighty 20-point lead in the polls. Similarly, he faces demands to define his plan to deliver Britain from the mess bequeathed by five successive Tory leaders at the same time our expectations of politicians have sunk to a historic low.
Last week the Oxford Union debated the motion, “This House does not know what Labour stands for”. Theo Adler-Williams, the union’s chief-of-staff, said: “Labour is better than this, the electorate deserved better than being offered no substance.” Are they? And do we? If Starmer did stand for anything he’d probably lose.
Starmer’s Labour must be the broadest of broad churches and the biggest of big tents. One of the problems of being the default option for voters who will forgive almost anything just to see the back of the Tories is that it will be impossible to keep everyone happy for more than five minutes. Judging by the reaction to Starmer’s U-turn on the £28 billion green investment pledge and his flip-flopping over Labour candidates with antisemitic tendencies, he is likely to enjoy a very short honeymoon as prime minister. He is being swept to power not on a wave of enthusiasm, but an overflow of raw sewage. It may stink from day one.
Labour’s need to win — and the country’s will for them to do so — necessitates an uneasy and unstable coalition of support. You can’t win without wide appeal, but in Starmer’s case that coalition is more diverse with more diverse desires than ever. Just on the Left, Starmer needs to hold significant numbers among progressive Millennials and Gen Z, socially conservative Muslims and other minorities, middle-class liberals, Red Wall Leavers who defected in 2019 and disgruntled Scottish nationalists. These groups all have wildly different agendas. Labour’s five pledges — now reduced to four — are vague for a reason. And somehow he has also to keep the Right-wing press at bay with the reassurance of economic probity.
Starmer has inherited a political universe in which voters demand miracles and expect failure. We’ve added irrationality to gullibility. It’s ironic how the only two politicians to have inspired genuine positivity since pre-Iraq War Tony Blair were Boris Johnson and Jeremy Corbyn, the worst choice Britons have faced since Roll With It v Country House. And it’s no coincidence that the current slough of cynicism and negativity follows their leadership: we got to see up close Johnson’s maniacal fecklessness and were spared Corbyn’s socialist holy fool routine. Starmer is the opposite of both men combined into one uninspiring package.
After the truth gymnastics of Brexit and the acid trip of Liz of the 49 days, the ceiling of public expectation for Rishi Sunak was that he could prevent Britain descending into an episode of The Purge. Starting from such a low point would normally mean the only way is up, but Starmer appears uneasy with the “vision thing”, as if he suspects the electorate just can’t take any more.
Yet even in our post-hope world Starmer’s critics insist he must “stand for something”. He must be radical but prudent, bold and cautious. To believe politicians’ promises is to be fooled. But it’s dangerous to automatically distrust them all. If young people have no faith in our institutions or value nothing about our shared culture and traditions then there is a risk of waking a monster. There is something chilling about progressives cheering attacks on international shipping by Houthis in the same week Houthi authorities execute 13 men found “guilty” of homosexuality. There is something unnerving about sharing a society with people who assume the entire establishment is deliberately working against them. This is the kind of nihilism that leads to the rise of would-be tyrants like Donald Trump or Taylor Swift.
Politics is active only in negative terms. It’s healthy — necessary even — to think about how we might do things differently, but deeply unhealthy to think politics is just one big con. The reasons for disillusionment are understandable, but neither resignation or dumb zeal is likely to provide any answers. Is it any consolation that things were worse in 2008, 1990, 1981 and 1974? No? Oh well, it was worth a try.
Politics in 2024 is no longer the art of the possible but the art of the not possible. Starmer’s strategy appears to be to remain so undefined that anyone can project their hopes and aspirations on to his Labour Party. The danger is that he has set expectations so low that they will become not a vessel for new hope, but old grievances. And he’s not even prime minister yet.
