Keir starmer's defining moment | thearticle

Politicians are defined as much by what they say “No” to, as what they say “Yes” to. This is particularly true in opposition, when you aren’t making the daily decisions on what to do next

but are only making the daily declarations of what should be done. Yet voters want to know what leaders are made of before they elevate them to government. The public needs to understand a

politician’s character and judgement — and that is why leaders seek out opportunities to show who they are, and what they intend, by picking a fight, by drawing a line. Sometimes, as with

David Cameron, politicians pick a fight with their party’s own image. His softer line on law and order, dubbed “hug a hoodie” by Labour’s sharp-witted John Reid, and Cameron’s hand-picked

A-list of female and BAME parliamentary candidates was a visible symbol of real change in the Tory Party. Other occasions, like Tony Blair’s “Clause 4” moment are confrontations with your

party’s very ideology. Blair wanted to remove Labour’s historic commitment to nationalisation from its constitution, but he also wanted his move to be noticed. And he got the row he wanted

at Labour conference, capped off by Arthur Scargill, the mineworkers’ union leader, storming off the conference floor. It couldn’t have been better if it had been choreographed. And then

there are the lucky politicians who don’t have to create defining moments. Instead, they land in their laps. One of these is Keir Starmer. When he became leader of the Labour Party he

apologised for the “stain” of anti-Semitism and promised to restore the trust of the Jewish community in his party. Soon enough he was able to prove his point. Frontbencher and leadership

rival Rebecca Long-Bailey (RLB) retweeted — and praised — a celebrity who had promoted an anti-Israel conspiracy theory. Starmer offered her the chance to delete the tweet and apologise.

When his instruction was refused he simply sacked her. Point made. Thing is, when you’re lucky you’re lucky. And Keir Starmer is on a roll. Anti-Semitism in the Labour Party wasn’t the only

Corbyn era legacy he had to repudiate. There was also the far left policy baggage. Few voters ever actually read a party’s election manifesto, but they gain a strong, lasting, and often

correct impression of it. The Red Wall voters who rejected Jeremy Corbyn and switched to the Conservative Party knew exactly why they didn’t want him to be Prime Minister. To steal LBJ’s

slogan about Barry Goldwater, “in your guts, you know he’s nuts”. But while political brand impressions like that can be gained in a short period, they can take years to wipe away. What

confrontation within the Labour Party would Keir Starmer have to engineer to prove that the culture, policies, and the ambitions of the far left had been left behind? Step forward, Len

McCluskey, leader of Unite, the largest union in the country, who has decided this week to cut the union’s donations to Labour. Previous union leaders may have been more circumspect, but Len

made it explicit — “No Say, No Pay”, or in his words: “This move will support the collective voice from the shop floor to the grassroots, helping to ensure that the party listens to and

genuinely reflects the aspirations of the many for a Labour party and Labour movement that will truly deliver on our shared vision and values.” Of course, given that Unite organise the

defence workers who build the boats which carry our deterrent, and the fighter planes we sell to the Middle East, it is very unlikely indeed that grassroots Unite members want to see the

election-losing, West-hating, pacifism of the Corbyn era continue. Indeed, it was only the unyielding support of Len McCluskey — offered without any consultation with his grassroots — that

preserved Jeremy Corbyn in the Labour leadership for its historic defeat last year. Len has all the rhetoric of a class warrior but he has been the handmaiden to a series of Tory victories.

In the words of former Labour Cabinet minister Ben Bradshaw, “Few people have done more to keep the Tories in power for the last 10 years than Len McCluskey”. It is said that Napoleon

Bonaparte used to ask: “I know he’s a good general, but is he lucky?” After a landslide defeat a party is rarely heard for five years. In the middle of a national crisis, an opposition is

usually irrelevant. In their confrontations, Keir Starmer’s personal authority has been the perfect foil for Boris Johnson’s political style. That couldn’t have been predicted. But on top of

that, Starmer has had opponents within the Labour Party whose own weaknesses have played to his greatest strengths. O, lucky man!