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For over eight months, a rising tide of frustration has emerged among the public in response to the Labour government’s rightward trajectory since its ascension to power. This sentiment was catalyzed by the government’s retention of the Conservative Party’s two-child benefit cap last July, and has since fueled feelings of shock, betrayal, and disappointment among critics.
The government’s actions—including controversial deportation videos and Keir Starmer’s statement expressing admiration for Donald Trump—alongside ongoing cuts to public services, have muddled the distinctions between Labour’s traditionally left-leaning policies and those of the right. Furthermore, Chancellor Rachel Reeves’s recent comments about “tearing down regulatory barriers” contribute to an image of a party increasingly aligned with more conservative ideologies.
Longtime Labour supporters are finding Starmer’s leadership hard to reconcile with their historical allegiance to the party, as the scale of potential disillusionment matches the likelihood of Labour’s electoral success.
This raises important questions: Are Labour’s left-leaning supporters justified in their disenchantment? Is this current administration markedly different from its predecessors? And if so, what type of government is it trying to establish?
Addressing these questions is complicated. A major hurdle is the government’s struggle to clarify its overarching purpose. Despite efforts to promote a vision of “an active government” that is “leaner and more agile,” the party’s communication often fails to resonate. In contrast to its previous incarnation under New Labour, which effectively articulated its modernization strategy, Starmer’s government strikes a perplexing balance between excessive explanations and a lack of clarity.
The absence of skilled communicators in Downing Street remains an enigma, as does Starmer’s own ideological ambiguity. Patrick Maguire and Gabriel Pogrund’s book on his tenure reveals that he explicitly denies having any ideological framework, claiming, “I don’t have any ideology at all.” This admission paints him as more of a pragmatic problem-solver than a visionary leader, navigating through a landscape marked by crises and public discontent.
Nevertheless, the character of his government is also influenced by seemingly contradictory policies. Despite the prevalence of right-leaning agendas, the administration has introduced several progressive initiatives, including efforts to enhance workers’ rights, the imposition of VAT on private education, the nationalization of rail services, and promoting clean energy in a way that has not been seen in recent British governance. While these policies may lack the ambitious scale seen under Jeremy Corbyn, they are still more egalitarian compared to the agendas of former leaders like Tony Blair and Gordon Brown.
In the latest issue of Renewal, historian Nick Garland—who previously worked with Reeves—describes the Starmer government as “plain old Labour,” suggesting it returns to the tradition of Labour governments that build upon each other for gradual societal improvements.
This characterization holds some merit. While Starmer avoids drawing direct parallels with past leaders, he occasionally acknowledges the influence of Harold Wilson, a notable Labour reformer. Garland posits that the current cabinet reflects a belief in the government’s role—alongside dynamic private sector partners—to address economic downturns and social challenges. In this light, Labour might be seen as returning to its roots in fostering national progress, albeit through a subdued approach.
However, this interpretation may overlook some unsettling aspects of Starmer’s leadership. The ongoing purges of leftist party members and the preference for courting conservative voters starkly contrasts with Wilson’s broader, more inclusive vision for Labour, which embraced social liberalism.
Another significant divergence arises from how the current government navigates financial challenges. While previous Labour administrations also faced these pressures and sometimes implemented austerity measures, the impact was more evenly distributed. Under Wilson, the tax burden on the wealthiest was dramatically higher. However, both Reeves and Starmer appear to have accepted arguments from business interests that suggest increasing taxes on high earners is unfeasible, a perspective that is contentious among economic analysts and the general public.
Consequently, Starmer’s administration seems to be forging a new political hybrid that merges both left and right elements, aimed at appealing to a fragmented electorate that is less inclined toward traditional party loyalty. This redefined Labour prioritizes “working people,” aligns itself with the arms industry and financial sectors, and endorses traditional forms of patriotism, while attempting to absorb elements of right-wing populism in its narrative, including concerns about immigration.
Evaluating the effectiveness of this new political strategy remains an open question. Similar attempts by center-left parties in nations like Germany and the United States have faltered, and indicators suggest Labour may be facing similar challenges, as reflected in polling and overall governmental performance. The confident image Starmer cultivated during his opposition tenure, with promises of stability and thoughtful governance, feels increasingly distant.
As the next general election approaches—potentially in four years—the ultimate efficacy of Starmer’s cautious approach might just suffice to overcome an internally divided opposition. However, success could come at the cost of alienating long-term supporters, who may find a transformed Labour party unrecognizable. In this scenario, renewing trust among its base may prove more challenging, complicating any efforts for future victories.
Source
www.theguardian.com