Unlock the Editor’s Digest for free
Roula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.
Ultimately, there is only one constitutional reason someone is prime minister. They are there because they can command a majority in the House of Commons. No longer do they fall the moment they lose a vote, but once that spell (and power over their own MPs) is broken, they rarely recover.
Less than a year after his landslide victory, Keir Starmer is facing just such a defining moment and we may yet look back on this as the last week of his full authority over his party. The parliamentary revolt against proposed welfare reforms is an existential crisis both for the prime minister and for his government.
This is not the usual tussle over amending legislation, painful enough but commonplace. Instead, around 120 of Starmer’s own MPs — enough to wipe out his majority — have threatened to sink an entire piece of legislation before it has even begun the amendments stages of its passage through parliament. It is one thing to compromise, another to cave in to those wanting to torpedo a vital bill.
The scale of the revolt was already a blow. As he headed into emergency talks with the rebels Starmer understood the stakes. If he was defeated; if he blinked and pulled the vote on Tuesday or offered more than modest concessions, it would signal a power shift, marking either the government’s transformation into a more leftwing, higher tax-and-spend administration or hobbling it for the rest of Starmer’s term. Prime ministers must listen but reversal would turn his programme into a permanent negotiation with untrusting MPs.
By Thursday night the early signs were that the prime minister was crumbling. The result is that we are likely to be entering a new phase of this government, one where Starmer cannot simply impose his will on his party. The episode will also raise serious questions about whether Labour is capable of essential reforms that both the public services and finances require.
The primary argument is over a plan to reduce payments and tighten eligibility for those claiming health and disability benefits, moves that will eventually cut entitlements for up to 800,000 people. This, plus moves to reduce the financial incentives to seek the health top-up to the UK’s main welfare payment, will save around £5bn a year.
Few dispute the need for reform of the goal of getting more claimants into employment. Working-age health-related benefits are due to rise from £36bn in 2019 to £63bn by 2028/9. New personal independence payments (Pips) to those under 40 have risen by 150 per cent since the pandemic, mainly due to mental health issues. The rise partly reflects clampdowns on other benefits, driving claimants towards these higher payments. Previous reforms proved to be like shapewear, simply shifting the bulge.
But critics argue that promised employment support will help too few find a job and that the new points-based eligibility rules for Pips are arbitrary and will penalise people with genuine needs. They say, correctly, that it’s all cuts and little reform.
This was always going to be a battle. Labour MPs do not go into politics to cut welfare. Tony Blair also faced large welfare revolts in the early years of his premiership. But crucially, he won them.
And this is also a revolt against Starmer’s dissent-crushing political operation, led by chief of staff Morgan McSweeney who MPs accuse of mishandling the issue. Backbenchers have been treated as wild dogs who need to be regularly tamed. As this rebellion began, the government showed little interest in compromise. Rachel Reeves, the chancellor, has been just as hardline.
Starmer’s previous retreat over means-testing pensioner fuel payments has emboldened MPs, validating their doubts over his political judgment. They now sense a leader who can be bullied back. This latest fight will further convince them.
The opposition goes far wider than the usual Corbynite irreconcilables. It has been led by senior mainstream Labour MPs and supported by mayors like Sadiq Khan and Andy Burnham. The lid McSweeney and Starmer placed on their MPs has been blown off. The true instincts of the party are re-emerging. And the leadership knows that rebellions are habit-forming.
Belatedly, Downing Street made conciliatory noises and began talking to rebels but positions had become too entrenched for them to be palmed off with token concessions. A promise to exempt existing claimants from the changes and re-examine the Pip eligibility rules appears to be the price of peace.
This will significantly reduce savings that the Treasury is already spending. Those expecting Starmer to scrap the “two-child cap” limiting benefits for those with larger families are being quietly reminded that there will be less money for other things they desire, though they will now be in no mood to be rebuffed.
Ideally, he needed the win or, failing that, a fudge which delayed confrontation till later in the parliamentary process when a less humbling compromise could be found. But in misjudging the mood of his party Starmer left himself less room for manoeuvre.
One minister observed that his already reduced credibility would “be shredded”, if he backed down. Soft-left MPs will be emboldened to fight on more issues, resist other cuts making new tax rises more likely. Welfare secretary Liz Kendall will be seriously damaged, his chief of staff will be under siege and his chancellor less secure. But if his retreat is as it initially appears these are the challenges Starmer will now face.
Above all, however, the public will rightly question whether Labour has the will to deliver the changes that Britain’s creaking state demands. The scale of the welfare bill means this reform cannot be the last word on the subject. What will happen to the less popular parts of the looming NHS reforms? If Labour shows it lacks the stomach for hard choices, voters will resume the search for a party that doesn’t.
Caving in will not be immediately fatal. But whatever the flaws in this legislation — and there are many — it will herald a loss of authority which is often the beginning of the end for leaders. Once you are forced to bend the knee to your backbenchers, you rarely stand tall again.