It was the biggest humiliation of Keir Starmer’s premiership. After weeks of intensive talks with the rail driver’s union Aslef, the government announced an inflation busting 15 per cent pay deal that would at last give closure to the chaos blighting the network.
‘The end is in sight,’ declared Transport Secretary Louise Haigh, ‘this offer would finally bring an end to this long-running dispute and allow us to move forward by driving up performance for passengers with the biggest overhaul to our railways in a generation.’
Unfortunately, the light at the end of the tunnel turned out to be an onrushing train. Or rather, a stationary train.
Because a day after pocketing the £69,000 per annum settlement on behalf of their members, Aslef announced a fresh 22 days of strike action that will bring the East Coast Mainline to a standstill and fresh chaos to passengers as far afield as London, Leeds, York and Newcastle.
In the aftermath of this abortive attempt to buy peace, attention immediately shifted to the seemingly toxic relationship between Labour and its ‘union paymasters’.
Sir Keir Starmer visiting a wind farm in South Wales yesterday
It was revealed that 213 of the party’s 404 MPs had accepted union donations in the run up to the election. Rather than standing up to the industrial bully-boys, the Prime Minister was apparently adopting an approach of ‘you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours’.
Except that’s not what actually happened. Keir Starmer did indeed attempt to tickle the burly shoulders of Aslef General Secretary ’Militant’ Mick Whelan. At which point the Chelsea-supporting Corbynite took the proffered cash, thanked him, and punched him squarely in the face.
The problem facing Britain this morning isn’t that it now has a Labour government walking in lock-step with the union barons. It’s that the Prime Minister and his ministers have lost any and all control over the wider Labour movement.
It’s quite clear that when Starmer and Haigh signed off the Aslef deal they had no idea a second dispute would be announced within 24 hours. It’s equally clear Whelan was well aware his announcement of fresh action would make No 10 a laughing stock.
I used to work for one of the major trade unions. And such a breakdown of basic industrial communication and choreography would have been unthinkable under the Blair government. Especially coming so soon into its first term of office.
Of the 404 Labour MPs, 213 raked in a whopping £1.8million from union bosses since the election was called in May
There are a number of reasons for this collapse in basic statecraft. One is that the new generation of union leaders doesn’t really give a fig for the proprieties of how they engage with a Labour Prime Minister.
Whatever people may think of Mick Whelan, he has no interest in sipping sparkling mineral water in the Downing Street Terracotta Room – which long ago replaced beer and sandwiches around the Cabinet Table – as part of a cosy negotiation. He just wants to deliver the best deal for his members and doesn’t care who he needs to bulldoze to get it.
Keir Starmer is also facing a generation of union leaders who are freshly emboldened. Rishi Sunak believed the wave of industrial unrest we saw in the years leading up to the election represented a coordinated attempt to bring down his government.
And he was right. What’s more, it worked. The seemingly unending disruption on the railways, schools and hospitals went a long way to cementing the impression that the Tories had lost control of the nation.
Sunak was hit by the most politically effective wave of industrial action since the miners showed Ted Heath who really governs Britain in 1974. And having successfully flexed their muscles, the union barons fully intend to stay buff.
It’s already clear Starmer does not yet have a strategy for dealing with this new-found militancy.
In fairness, one of the issues is that many of the most radicalised unions – the RMT, the National Education Union, the BMA – aren’t actually Labour party affiliates.
But the relationship between the Prime Minister and some of those who do still contribute to his party’s coffers has already been stretched to breaking point.
On the eve of the election, Sharon Graham, head of the country’s second largest union Unite, told Starmer she would not be endorsing the party’s manifesto.
Although the snub received minimal publicity, that represented an unprecedented schism between the Labour party and one of the unions it grew out of.
What’s more, this was not an aberration. Since taking over as Labour leader, Starmer has not shown an especially deft touch when it comes to managing union relations. In 2021, Starmer attempted to force through a major change in his party’s rules over how future leaders were elected. But negotiations with the unions were bungled and he was forced to retreat.
There is also a disconnect between the tactics No.10 is deploying in relation to the unions and their wider political strategy. The idea was that in their first 100 days they would ‘get the bad news out first’.
Settling the strikes was meant to fit in with that plan and Labour strategists were aware they would receive negative headlines over capitulating to the strikers.
But now they face the prospect of the strikes continuing through the winter. And the nightmare scenario of their failed attempt to buy off the unions being contrasted with Rachel Reeves’ controversial decision to axe winter fuel payments.
Angela Rayner believes Starmer wants her out of his government
It’s clear Aslef general secretary Mick Whelan, centre, was well aware his announcement of fresh action would make No 10 a laughing stock
As one former Tory Minister gleefully told me ‘the reality of government is starting to bite. Starmer’s got himself into a position where it looks like he’s prioritising pickets over pensioners’.
But perhaps the biggest problem facing Starmer isn’t who’s facing him across the picket-line. It’s who’s standing next to him.
‘Keir doesn’t have a Prescott,’ one Minister explained, making reference to Tony Blair’s rough-hewn Deputy Prime Minister. ‘There’s no one who owns the relationship with the General Secretaries and can pick up the phone and say “Come on, stop mucking around. Get this sorted”.’
The relationship between Blair and his deputy was complex. There were times when he and his inner-circle could be privately – and occasionally not so privately – condescending towards the former Cunard shop-steward.
Prescott, in turn, could be disparaging about the ‘shiny’ New Labourites. But the basic foundation was one of mutual respect – even affection. And, as a result, Prescott was able to effectively leverage his strong credentials within the trade union family on behalf of his boss and his government.
Keir Starmer and Angela Rayner do not enjoy the same symbiosis. The two basically dislike, and are suspicious of, one another. Starmer believes Rayner’s priority is her own personal ambition.
Rayner, in turn, believes (fairly) that Starmer wants her out of his government and feels she has to build an independent power base to protect herself. And, as a result, though she is respected by many across the trade union movement, her ability – and willingness – to broker deals on Starmer’s behalf is constrained.
So this is the reality. Keir Starmer isn’t some trade union puppet, gyrating on the barons’ strings. Instead, he’s a crumpled mess of wood and wire lying discarded in the corner.
They don’t really respect him. They don’t think he understands them. And, crucially, they don’t think they need him.
Some militant unions again believe they govern Britain. In the weeks and months ahead, Keir Starmer has to show them they’re wrong.