The Starmer strikes back

“An incredibly dangerous and volatile world threatens the UK,” King Charles began, sounding like a man reading out the opening scroll of a Star Wars film. Few could deny that it is a period of civil war, at least within the Labour Party. The week began with rebel MPs, striking from hidden social media accounts, launching a series of attacks against the mighty Death Starmer. It remains to be seen whether these small one-man fighters will be able to penetrate his outer defences.

The day of the King’s Speech in parliament is always heavy with pageantry, a reminder of a time long ago in a land that now seems far, far away. People stand around dressed for a garden party, and members of the Lords get to put on their ermine. There are ancient traditions dating back to the time of Guy Fawkes. Wednesday began with the Yeomen of the Guard searching the cellars for plotters, but there was no sign of Wes Streeting or Andy Burnham.

Over in the Lords, the event seemed a little more sparsely attended than usual. Everyone has to be in place long before the king shows up, so there was much chatter. We could see Theresa May describing something with great animation: tips and tricks for hanging on as prime minister longer than anyone thinks possible?

Suddenly there was a hush. His Majesty was in the building. Conversations became a murmur, interrupted by the occasional ping of a mobile phone. Eventually to this was added the distant sound of trumpets, indicating that His Majesty had successfully put on his robes and was now making his way in our general direction.

Finally the procession arrived: the Fitzalan Pursuivant Extraordinary, the Somerset Herald, the Norroy And Ulster King of Arms, the Rouge Dragon Pursuivant, all of them daring us to snigger at their outfits. In the public gallery sat National Treasure Pursuivant the Rev Richard Coles.

His King’s Most Excellent Majesty made his way to the throne and somewhat croakily invited us all to take a seat. The Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod was sent to summon the Commons. As is traditional, they slammed the door in his face and he banged three times. “Not now Andy!” shouted Labour’s Torcuil Crichton, the best joke of the morning.

The MPs made their way through, led by the prime minister and leader of the opposition. We analysed the TV feed for evidence of Keir Starmer’s thoughts. Kemi Badenoch was explaining something to him with great energy, possibly how losing hundreds of council seats was actually a kind of victory, and Starmer looked like he was wondering if his security detail could come and save him.

It’s always the case that the ceremonial events of politics are a little detached from the reality, but it’s never been truer than it was on Wednesday

It’s always the case that the ceremonial events of politics are a little detached from the reality, but it’s never been truer than it was on Wednesday. The prime minister can get the king to read out the words he’s written, but none of us is quite sure he’ll still be in his job next week. On Tuesday he’d told his Cabinet to bring their concerns to him individually and then, in the most Keir Starmer move imaginable, refused to meet any of them.

On Wednesday, Wes Streeting finally cornered him for a brief meeting. Afterwards the Health Secretary let it be known that he didn’t want to do anything to overshadow the king. And then his allies told everyone that he was going to resign tomorrow. The mystery of how a leadership bid could be that cackhanded was solved a few minutes later, when we saw James Cleverly offering Streeting advice. If Streeting is knocked out of the race because too many of his supporters accidentally back a rival, we’ll know whom to blame.

Certainly, these antics weren’t winning friends in the Cabinet. When the BBC asked Hilary Benn if Streeting was still Health Secretary, he replied: “Ask him.” Later when Streeting took his place next to Bridget Philipson on the front bench in the afternoon, he attempted to start a conversation. The Education Secretary pulled out her phone and ignored him.

The tradition is that government backbenchers open the King’s Speech debate with light speeches. In the context, this was like making a best man’s speech just after the chief usher has lamped the father of the bride. Still, Naz Shah’s was a model, mixing jokes with barbs aimed at those on the opposition benches who seem unsure about whether Muslims really count as British.

Badenoch had plenty of ammunition to fire at the government. She opened by congratulating the whips “or finding two backbenchers ready to support the prime minister”. She quoted the musical Hamilton: “winning is easy, governing is harder”, although her own party has struggled with both in recent years. Her best point came towards the end: “Either Labour MPs agree with this agenda, in which case, why are they trying to get rid of the prime minister? Or they don’t agree with this agenda, in which case, what on earth are we all doing here?”

We did also get an answer to why the Conservative leader has been so triumphalist after her party’s drubbing last week. She wasn’t scared of Nigel Farage, she explained, because he was “a symptom of the failure of the political class to focus on what matters”. It would be fascinating to know what the leader of the Conservative Party and former Secretary of State for Business thinks she is, if not a member of the political class. Perhaps she believes that all the people voting Reform last week were really crying out for a Tory government.

The prime minister at least had a decent joke about that: “Our parties both had difficult results,” he said. “The difference is that she hasn’t noticed.” But has he noticed what is happening around him? While he spoke, teams of Labour MPs were trying to work out how to remove him and replace him with their favoured candidate. It seems probable there will be a challenge soon.

If it came, would Starmer really fight on, having proved that the job is beyond him and lost the support of his own MPs? Maybe he really is going to honour the promise he made in 2020 and continue the legacy of Jeremy Corbyn.