The House of Commons has just witnessed one of its most incredible – and distressing – sessions of Prime Minister’s Questions. For the entire sitting, Chancellor Rachel Reeves visibly struggled to keep her emotions together, as tears streaked her face. The Prime Minister was asked to confirm she would remain in post. He refused, and referred to her tenure in office in the past tense.
It’s important to withhold judgment until all the facts are known, but the sight of a Chancellor in tears justs adds to the impression that the government is falling apart.
Soon after returning from last week’s Nato summit, Keir Starmer sat down with a couple of his senior aides to take stock of where things stood on the welfare bill.
Labour MPs were on the point of open revolt, he was told. ‘It’s my fault,’ he conceded, ‘I haven’t been focused enough on all this. I need to grip it’. There was a pause. ‘You might think that,’ one of them replied, ‘but you mustn’t say that to anyone. You’re Prime Minister. You can’t acknowledge weakness like that.’
A couple of days later, Sir Keir appeared on the front pages of the Sunday newspapers. ‘I was heavily focused on what was happening with Nato and the Middle East all weekend,’ he revealed. ‘I turned my attention fully to it [the welfare bill] when I got back from on Wednesday night. Obviously in the course of the early part of this week we were busy trying to make sure Nato was a success.’
Today, people are attempting to come to terms with how a Prime Minister with a majority of 170, approaching the first anniversary of one of the most emphatic election victories on record, contrived to deliver the most dramatic and humiliating self-immolation in modern parliamentary history. This is how. Keir Starmer is the most politically inept, incompetent and naive holder of his office in living memory.
Yesterday, in the wake of Starmer’s welfare capitulation, I spoke to several of his allies. Not rebels, but loyal supporters. ‘That was a triumph for a listening Labour government,’ one said mockingly. A second was more succinct. ‘What a complete s*** show,’ they observed. A third was just bemused. ‘What the hell happens now?’ they asked plaintively.
This is what happens. First, Keir Starmer will be humiliated all over again. Because his authority has not been damaged, but permanently destroyed.
Immediately after the vote, I wandered out on to the House of Commons Terrace. There was a party atmosphere. Hitherto anonymous Labour backbenchers were striding around, embracing one another, looking ten feet tall. Leading rebel Rachael Maskell said this morning a ‘shift of power’ had occurred. It has. Though not so much a shift, as a haemorrhaging.
So the Prime Minister will be driven into a new series of retreats. On welfare, obviously. On special educational provision. And, most significantly, on tax.
Not least, because although all the talk this morning is of Keir Starmer’s ‘defeat’, the reality is he didn’t really even manage to put up much of a fight.
Over the past week there’s been a lot of criticism of Labour’s ‘enforcer’, the chief-whip Alan Campbell. But what’s been overlooked is that in the run up to Downing Street’s last minute climb-down, Labour MPs were explicitly told that even if they rebelled over a fundamental plank of the government’s social and fiscal platform, they would face no formal disciplinary action. The revolt, in effect, had official sanction. Another thing that will happen is that changes are going to be made inside No 10. As the chaos has unfolded, enemies of Starmer’s Chief of Staff Morgan McSweeney have seized their opportunity to demand his outright sacking.
That will not happen – Starmer recognises the combative Irishman’s central role in his rise to power and openly warned his Cabinet the anonymous briefings against him should cease.
But however valued McSweeney may be, the events of the past few days expose a fundamental dysfunctionality at the heart of the No 10 machine. And avoiding such mayhem is the Chief of Staff’s primary responsibility.
As one Starmer alley acknowledged: ‘Morgan needs to stay. But he has to be found a different role. His skill is campaigning. You can’t have him sitting there trying to sort out Keir’s stance on a trade deal with Trump, then also have him trying to work out how to get 10 extra votes in a by-election in Runcorn.’
As a result of which, a number of people are now in the frame to replace McSweeney as Chief of Staff. One is Jonathan Powell, who held the role under Tony Blair and is current National Security Advisor. He is seen to have the experience. But some insiders are wary because politics has moved on since his New Labour days. ‘Jonathan would be a mistake,’ one former colleague told me. ‘It’s a different world now. He would not be suited to that job.’
Another name that has been floated is Pat McFadden, the current Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster who was sent out on the broadcast round today to try and clean up the government’s mess. McFadden is viewed as safe pair of hands – and politically astute. But as another former Blair advisor, there are questions over whether he would want another back seat role.
A third contender is Baroness Louise Casey, who was appointed by Starmer in January as the Government’s lead Non-Executive Director, and recently pushed for the U-turn on the national rape gang inquiry. Casey said in an interview last year she would be prepared to accept a direct position in Starmer’s government if asked.
But the most significant fall-out from last night’s evisceration of the Prime Minister’s authority will not be the replacement of his Chief of Staff. But the start of the process of removing Keir Starmer himself.
The next Labour leadership contest is now underway. Last night, allies of Deputy Prime Minister Angela Rayner were openly briefing journalists that she had personally brokered Starmer’s retreat with the rebels. ‘We’ve got to a better place now,’ she told Lorraine Kelly this morning, as Sir Keir’s reputation lay shredded on the floor of the House of Commons.
Meanwhile, her chief rival for the leadership, Wes Streeting, has already begun reaching out to Labour MPs and activists. Asked on Sunday about Bob Vylan’s Glastonbury chant, he condemned the rapper, then skilfully pivoted into a crowd-pleasing attack on the Israeli government. ‘Get your own house in order in terms of the conduct of your own citizens and the settlers in the West Bank,’ he chided. An ally of Streeting told me wryly: ‘He was just responding to a direct question – he was asked about comments by the Israeli embassy.’
At the same time, Labour’s Prince Across the Water – or Prince Across the Manchester Ship Canal – Andy Burnham has also commenced manoeuvres. ‘What’s been announced is half a U-turn – a 50 per cent U-turn. In my view, I’d still hope MPs vote against the whole bill when it comes before parliament,’ he declared in a long-distance weekend intervention.
Last week, some rebels were being unapologetically open about what they were hoping to achieve. ‘The time has come for regime change,’ one announced.
Congratulations. You’ve got your wish.
