When leaders lose control of events, they rarely recover it. The final blow is usually banal. It could be a ministerial resignation, a bacon sandwich style gaffe, or a symbolic vote defeat, but it is coming, says Helen Thomas
A curious myth has taken hold at Westminster that Keir Starmer remains in post because removing a Labour leader in government is simply too hard. It isn’t. The Labour Party rulebook was amended last year (ironically under Starmer) such that a leadership challenge can now happen at any time, not just at party conference, and the practical barriers are lower than many assume.
Securing the backing of 20 per cent of MPs to trigger a contest would not be difficult. The deputy leadership race that took place last autumn saw more than 300 Labour MPs publicly declare support for one candidate or another within days. Once a vacancy appears, battle lines are drawn quickly.
The deputy leadership campaign also means that the party has had a useful dry run. The NEC has run a full contest which, similar to prior races, concluded in six to seven weeks. In government, the pressure to move fast would be even greater and the result might be known even sooner.
So the question is not whether Labour can change its leader. It is whether it can afford not to.
The fear is that a contest would tear the party apart. Labour has only once changed leader through a contest while in government, all the way back in 1976, and its more recent opposition-era experiences were bruising. Hesitancy is understandable but it is misplaced.
A contest would give Labour something it currently lacks: a mandate. Candidates would be forced to articulate a clear economic and political direction, allowing the eventual winner to emerge with greater authority than the current prime minister enjoys. Backbenchers would have declared their loyalties, making party management easier rather than harder. The parliamentary majority might shrink in numerical terms, with rebels fully counted and exposed, but it would be more cohesive and disciplined.
Time, not turbulence, is the greater threat.
Cold war
Labour is locked in a cold war with itself and as a consequence is bleeding support at a dangerous rate. History suggests this does not reverse itself. Liz Truss had to be removed once the Conservatives fell below 20 per cent in the polls. Starmer is already there. Like Rishi Sunak before him, the more voters see of Starmer, the worse he performs. His net favourability now sits alongside Boris Johnson’s on the day he resigned and Jeremy Corbyn’s at his lowest ebb.
Those arguing that changing leader looks chaotic should ask what competence currently looks like. A disunited party, repeated policy reversals, and a Prime Minister intervening erratically in an already fragile Budget process do not project stability. Voters have noticed. With both main parties floundering, they are drifting elsewhere.
If Labour genuinely fears a Reform breakthrough, waiting until after the May elections is a gamble it is likely to lose. Momentum matters in politics. A strong Reform performance in councils or devolved assemblies will harden the perception that Nigel Farage’s party is the government-in-waiting. Nigel Farage knows this, hence his exhortation to spend all the money they have as “it’s double or quits… we are just going to go for it… It is the single most important event between now and the general election”.
Reform already boasts the largest single living donation in British political history. With electoral success they will attract more donors. Elected representatives bring ground troops, credibility and media oxygen. The party is doing its best to professionalise rapidly in an attempt to capitalise on the opportunity.
A leadership change now would at least give Labour a chance to reset expectations. A new leader could stabilise polling, reassure donors, and slow the haemorrhage of activists and councillors. Delay simply ensures that the next leader inherits a lame-duck government while Reform and the Greens dominate the political weather.
The experience of the Conservatives in late 2021 is instructive. Boris Johnson still enjoyed a huge majority when the Owen Paterson affair exposed a collapse in judgment and control. The government forced through a clumsy procedural manoeuvre, backbenchers rebelled, newspapers erupted, and a humiliating U-turn followed. Johnson survived for another six months, but the damage was irreversible. The rot had set in.
Starmer shows similar warning signs. Polling decline is steep and persistent. Party discipline is fraying, with rebellions, abstentions and public dissent from MPs who feel unshackled. Budget measures have already required rushed partial reversals under backbench pressure. Electoral losses, once dismissed as noise, are accumulating. Markets have been forgiving so far, but that tolerance is conditional.
When leaders lose control of events, they rarely recover it. The final blow is usually banal. It could be a ministerial resignation, a bacon sandwich style gaffe, or a symbolic vote defeat.
Whether Labour opts for Wes Streeting, Angela Rayner or a more unexpected figure, the case for renewal is no longer ideological but structural. Politics punishes drift. Authority erodes faster than parties expect, and once lost it is rarely reclaimed by waiting.
The Starmer premiership may not end tomorrow. But the idea that it can be stabilised by endurance alone is only a comforting illusion and one Labour can ill afford.