Andy Burnham, the king of Northern England, conquers London

LondonMid-morning this Monday, as the acting premier, Keir Starmer, had just announced his decision to throw in the towel and leave Downing Street, the former mayor of Manchester, Andy Burnham, 56, married to a Dutch citizen and with three children, arrived at Manchester Picadilly station to catch the train to London. He was carrying a bag in which he had a suit and, undoubtedly, many hopes.

Burnham appeared surrounded by journalists and all sorts of passers-by pointed at him with their mobile phones. He was escorted by a couple of police officers; however, some of his advisors accompanied him. He did not shy away from the expectation nor could he avoid the nerves. To such an extent that he declared to the BBC cameras that he was going down to London to take possession of the office of mayor. "I said as mayor; I mean as MP." A slip of the tongue.

The so-called King of the north, the king of the north, an Everton supporter – Liverpool's smaller team – has thus begun his descent to conquer the capital. His train was a few minutes late but nothing exceptional. And shortly after 2:30 PM, local time, he swore in as a Member of Parliament for the constituency of Makerfield (north-west England),

which he won last week

, and which, as had been anticipated for weeks, is to catapult him to number 10 Downing Street.

During the brief ceremony, the atmosphere in the Commons had humorous, almost theatrical moments. Veteran Conservative MP Desmond Swayne provoked laughter and applause by shouting "Rome is saved!", an ironic reference to Keir Starmer's replacement. Immediately after, another MP exclaimed in reference to Burnham: "He is not the Messiah", evoking a famous scene from the film Monty Python's Life of Brian. After a brief pause, Burnham joined the joke and replied that he was perhaps "just a very naughty boy", reproducing the line that follows the original phrase in the film.

Shortly after the laughter subsided, Burnham met with the Labour parliamentary group, the first test of his authority which, at this point, seems undisputed. Not only because of the reception he enjoyed in the House but also because of the massive selfie he took with his MPs in Westminster Hall. Some of those present had been loyal to Starmer until practically this very Monday.

Since 2017, Burnham has been away from Westminster politics. But he is returning to a place he knows well. The new parliamentarian was already an MP between 2001 and 2017, during which time he held various ministerial portfolios during the governments of Tony Blair and Gordon Brown, including Health, Culture, and Treasury. He ran for party leadership on two occasions, and lost both times. It wasn't his moment. Paradoxically, it has been the nine years in Manchester and away from London that have built his prestige and opened the famous black door on Whitehall alley.

Patriotism and 'Manchesterism'

From the great northern city, with a weekly radio program in which he directly answered listeners' questions, he has built an image of a close, pragmatic leader, rooted in the territory. He has been able to stand up to both conservative governments – especially during the pandemic – and the leadership of his own party when he has considered that the interests of Northern England were being questioned.

His career is marked by an unusual combination of social democratic sensibility, a kind of English civic patriotism, and a fierce defense of decentralization in a country suffering from the malaise of "London-centricity". The son of a working-class family and deeply influenced by the political culture of northwest England, Burnham has often presented himself as the voice of communities that believe London concentrates too much of the United Kingdom's political, economic, and media power.

This position has allowed him to connect with traditional Labour voters, but also with sectors that supported Brexit and that demand more investment and autonomy for the old industrial regions, now depopulated. He himself declared last year, during the party conference, that he would like to see the United Kingdom return to the European Union. A gamble, however, that in the recent Makerfield campaign he has practically hidden to avoid undermining his expectations in a constituency that overwhelmingly voted to leave the European Union, ten years ago this Tuesday.

Analysts have dubbed his style of governance "Manchesterism". But rather than a closed ideology, it is a way of doing things based on the transfer of powers from Whitehall to large metropolitan areas, the coordination of public services at a local level, and an economic policy aimed at reducing territorial inequalities. Inspired by the experience of Greater Manchester, Manchesterism argues that city-regions must have greater capacity to manage transport, housing, health, or vocational training, even without shying away from the renationalization of some or all of these essential services. What he has achieved with Manchester's transport system, managing to reduce fares by 15%, is emblematic of his practice.

His supporters present him as an alternative to London centralism; his critics, as a Trojan horse for a covert English federalism. In any case, he has turned Manchester into a political laboratory observed with interest by the rest of the country and also with nervousness by the financial markets of the City.

Keir Starmer has set a timetable for the succession, asking the Party's National Executive Committee to open the period for nominations of contenders on July 9 and to close it a week later. But the withdrawal of one of the MPs who had nominated himself as a candidate, the former Health Minister, Wes Streeting, has opened the door to Burnham's coronation. As early as July 17 – or even before – he could become the seventh British premier in a decade. And the first to be a follower of Everton, Liverpool's second team. An alternative power, as he, deep down, would like to represent.