Ten years after the referendum, the Labour civil war reopens the Brexit wound
The mayor of Manchester is risking a return to the Commons and the possibility of replacing Keir Starmer in a territory very hostile to the Union
LondonThe Brexit wound continues to bleed the British Labour Party, and by extension, the United Kingdom. The crisis that opened up in Keir Starmer's government last week following the electoral catastrophe of May 7 –and the growing internal pressure to oust him– has once again placed membership of the European Union at the center of the debate, as the tenth anniversary of the referendum approaches on June 23.
The fireworks have exploded with force this weekend. The Minister of Health until Thursday, Wes Streeting, stated in a speech in London, in which he presented himself as an alternative to Starmer, that "the great economic opportunity we have is on our doorstep," in relation to the former partners in Brussels. "We need a new special relationship with the EU, because the future of the United Kingdom is in Europe —and one day, back within the European Union."
Hours later, in an interview with the BBC, the Minister of Culture, Lisa Nandy, described Streeting's comment as "strange." However, she said it was an opinion she shared: "I think Brexit was a mistake, but I don't quite understand why this sudden focus on Europe." In parallel, allies of the Mayor of Greater Manchester, Andy Burnham, the favorite of the membership to replace Starmer, have accused the former Health Minister of boycotting his campaign to return to the Commons in the by-election for the Makerfield constituency, where Brexit received 66% of the support. In the constituency, near Manchester, Farage's Reform Party came second in the 2024 elections.
Burnham, who needs to be an MP to be able to challenge Starmer for the leadership, presented his candidacy there after MP Josh Simons resigned his seat last Thursday. Despite his popularity, and that he has never hidden his preference for returning to the EU, he will have to face attacks from the Reform Party, which will accuse him of "wanting to reverse the will of the people," as Farage has already pointed out this Monday morning in an article in the Daily Express. The by-election, the most important in the last fifty years in the United Kingdom, will most likely take place on June 18. Seventy thousand voters will decide who could be the new Prime Minister, the seventh in a decade.
In a speech to the Labour conference last year, Andy Burnham said: "In the long term, I will be honest, I will say it: I want to return. I hope that in my lifetime I can see this country rejoin the European Union." When asked by an ITV News reporter on Saturday if he supported rejoining the Union, as Streeting had already said, the then-mayor replied that "in the long term there are arguments for it," a much more ambiguous formula. Even so, he tried to downplay the issue in his campaign in Makerfield, assuring that "he is not defending it in this by-election." He added that he will campaign by focusing on local issues.
A brand of its own
But what exactly does the potential prime ministerial candidate stand for? Above all, a brand: the Burnham brand. What lies behind it? A simple but powerful idea, which may sound very appealing to traditional Labour voters, abandoned to their fate by the country's deindustrialization and who have been drawn to the siren songs of populism and Farage's demagoguery. The state and local institutions can once again control essential services that many Britons perceive as inefficient and failed after forty years of privatizations.
In his city, he has promoted social housing construction plans —10,000 new public flats by 2028— and has advocated for a combination of public investment, decentralization, and institutional stability to attract businesses and reduce inequalities.
His great calling card is the so-called Bee Network, the integrated metropolitan transport network with which Manchester has regained public control of buses, partially copying the London model. Lower fares, more coordination, and an image of efficient public service have turned the project into the symbol of what some of his allies already define as Manchesterism: a more politically directed economy, less dependent on the market. Is it possible to transfer it from Manchester to the entire United Kingdom, then?
It is very difficult, and it is the big question that the electors of Makerfield, where the mayor is risking his political future, must answer. But Burnham, fifty-six years old, married with three children, wants to turn the local experience into a national proposal. In recent days, he has explicitly defended that sectors such as water, energy, social housing, or transport should be under public control again. The financial and management crisis of companies like Thames Water has offered him ammunition to argue that privatizations have led to more expensive, indebted, and deteriorated services.
His strategy is not just an ideological alternative to the dominant economic model, although without undermining the foundations of a free-market economy. There is also a territorial bet behind it. Burnham has built his figure as a defender of the north of England —they call him the King of the North— against London's centralism, especially after clashes with Boris Johnson's British government during the pandemic.
The image of a combative but pragmatic local leader, detached from the Westminster bubble, has allowed him to connect with both traditional Labour voters and business sectors. And it has made Manchester a very dynamic economic area, an exception in a country with flat growth.
His critics point out that a good part of Manchester's boom predates his arrival, ten years ago. Furthermore, they warn of the high costs that a widespread renationalization of essential services would entail at a time when there is no money, and the little that exists must be allocated to defence and an increasingly costly welfare state.
Before attempting the assault on power in London, however, he must win in the minefield that is Makerfield. A minefield inexplicable in economic terms, because Brexit has meant a reduction in GDP of at least 4%. It is explained a little better in terms of cultural war. Although Brexit did not reduce immigration —quite the opposite, it boosted it—, the use of foreigners by the far-right to blame them for the ills of the traditional white working class, impoverished and aged, has worked. It is the great weapon that the millionaire Farage has to abort Andy Burnham's return to London.