Sir Keir Starmer has resigned. Yes, it finally happened. The Downing Street lectern claims another victim (the seventh in a decade), and Britain waves goodbye to the most unpopular Prime Minister in her history, leaving the Pillsbury Dullboy more time to spend with his family.
In many ways, Starmer ended his tenure in the spirit he began it: hiding behind his wife’s skirt, reading every single line from an truth-averse script, and taking far more credit than he had any right to. He was careful to blame the Tories’ 14 years of “disappointment and despair” and the inheritance of a Labour Party “politically, financially, and morally bankrupt”. He took credit for “ripping out the poison of antisemitism”, “restoring trust on the economy, defence, and national security”, and standing proudly “with, not against, our national flag”.
In reality, he has achieved none of these things. Labour still has a problem with antisemitism, and Starmer’s kid gloves approach to the pro-Palestine marches has been shameful to observe. National security is at its second-highest possible level: Severe, meaning a terrorist attack is highly likely. Britain meanwhile is guarded by porous borders, the Defence Secretary has resigned in protest at chronic underfunding, and the economy remains stagnant. Starmer’s claim to support the Union Flag, however, while much of his party views it as a “far-right” emblem, is gaslighting on a heroic scale.
As usual with Starmer, the speech felt less like a heartfelt farewell and more like an instruction manual on how the public were to view his legacy. Not many of us get to write our own eulogy, but Sir Keir gave it his best shot: our reputation in the world was restored, he said, with Britain “once again standing up for decency, respect, and the rule of law… standing with Ukraine, standing up for our values, and rebuilding our relationship with our allies in Europe.” If I were him, I’d ask for my money back.
What really leapt out was the self-referential nature of the speech. Ever keen to get the pronouns right, Starmer was visibly less interested in “We” (5 times) and “Our” (9), much preferring “I” (17) and “My” (13).
To his credit, he accepted the verdict on his premiership with something approaching good grace, promising an orderly handover until the leadership contest is complete. Then came the only moment that felt even vaguely real. Voice cracking, eyes wet, he thanked his “fantastic wife” Vick and his “beautiful children”, promising to dedicate more time to the “most important job”.
It would be all too easy to feel sorry for the man – until you remember the contempt he appears to hold for the people of this country; the two-tier justice he has instigated, presided over, and enshrined into law; his willingness to tolerate the crimes of multiculturalism and the zealotry with which he jailed those who dared to notice; and the scandals he has lied his way through. Any honourable Member of Parliament ought, arguably, to have resigned over Southport, Mandelson-Epstein, the phantom economic ‘black hole’, or the recent local election massacre. Starmer refused to take those options, and his legacy should rightly suffer because of it.
Still, we are where we are. Phase one of saving Britain is complete. Starmer, as caretaker PM, is removed from power. The question is, where exactly does this leave the country: better or worse off?
Enter, stage north, Andy Burnham. The Mayor of Greater Manchester and self-styled ‘King in the North’ has returned to Parliament via the Makerfield by-election, with a majority so large one could be forgiven for thinking the man actually stood for something other than his own ego. His supporters are already declaring him the man of the hour. The good burghers of Makerfield, they say, have spoken. What they actually said, with considerable force, was “Anyone but Starmer!” Burnham may interpret this as an emphatic personal mandate, but he would be unwise to do so.
Still, he is the bookies’ overwhelming favourite to become Britain’s next Prime Minister. And while a leadership contest will take place, it is already a done deal. Burnham has announced his candidacy, and Wes Streeting (the only serious potential rival) has ruled himself out, endorsed Burnham, and called for unity. Any other pretender to the throne would therefore need the backing of 81 Labour MPs – no small feat, when the party is already jockeying for cabinet roles under “Our Andy”. In practice, this means Burnham is on course for the Gordon Brown special: a leadership “contest” in name only; a coronation pre-ordained and dressed up as the seamless workings of democracy.
The conservative wing of British politics was quick to capitalise. Reform UK was first out of the blocks: Nigel Farage immediately called for a general election, arguing that Burnham has neither legitimacy nor a mandate to govern, having not faced the electorate in 2024. Kemi Badenoch’s Conservatives echoed the call, albeit with the proviso that Burnham must first prove his inability to fund Defence.
They are not wrong to do so. Reform remains well ahead in the polls, and Burnham may take a while to wean himself off the Eccles cakes and the Boddingtons. The Tories have less cause for cheer, but after 2024 (the worst defeat in their history), even a modest Badenoch bounce should conceivably deliver them more than 121 seats.
What’s interesting is, they may just get their wish. At present, Burnham’s only trump card is not being Keir Starmer – or rather, being Keir Starmer, but with a northern accent, and slightly better soundbites. How long will that honeymoon last? Once Starmer is out of the frame, Burnham will be left holding the baby: the debt, the small boats, the cost of living, and the palpable sense that the very social fabric of Britain is tearing itself apart.
A swift general election on the other hand, secures Burnham his own mandate. It would cleanse him of Starmer’s disastrous legacy, and allow him to start a fresh chapter – however meaningless such a demarcation might prove. What’s more, Burnham may just go for it. The decisive victory in Makerfield may have convinced him that it is him the country desires, rather than the end of Keir Starmer. That is a position he is likely to be swiftly disabused of.
Phase one of saving Britain is complete. Phase two begins whenever the latest uniparty incarnation discovers that “not being Keir Starmer” is no recipe for governance. Until then, the country (and the taxpayer) will be the ones picking up the tab.
Frank Haviland is the author of Banalysis: The Lie Destroying the West and The Frank Report, which you are welcome to subscribe to.
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I still feel much more sorry for Hitler (in the film Downfall, before anyone jumps to the wrong conclusions) than for this soon to be ex-PM and look forward to similar eulogies from his successors of all political hues (inevitable).