Crisis at the top of British politics: Keir Starmer versus Andy Burnham

Friday 15 May 2026

The crisis now engulfing the government of Keir Starmer has moved beyond the ordinary turbulence of mid-term political decline and entered the far more dangerous territory of succession politics. The dramatic decision of Labour MP Josh Simons to resign the parliamentary seat of Makerfield in order to facilitate the return of Andy Burnham to Westminster has transformed what had previously been whispered speculation into an open struggle over the future leadership of the Labour Party and, by extension, the premiership itself.

The symbolism of the manoeuvre is extraordinary. British parliamentary seats are not ordinarily vacated merely to accommodate the ambitions of a potential future Prime Minister. Such acts occur only when factions within a governing party conclude that the existing leadership may no longer be electorally sustainable. Simons’s resignation letter — with its language about the need for “urgent, radical, brave reform” — amounted to an unmistakable declaration that a portion of Labour’s parliamentary and activist base has begun looking beyond Starmer.

Yet Burnham’s path back to Westminster from the post of Mayor of Greater Manchester is fraught with danger, and that danger explains much about the extraordinary tension now consuming Labour politics.

Under Labour’s rules, Burnham cannot contest the leadership unless he is a sitting Member of Parliament. His mayoralty of Greater Manchester, however prestigious, is constitutionally insufficient. Thus the Makerfield by-election is not merely a local electoral contest but effectively a preliminary referendum upon whether Burnham is permitted even to enter the arena of national leadership.

This creates a remarkable paradox. Burnham’s allies portray him as Labour’s saviour — a northern populist capable of reconnecting the party with working-class voters drifting towards Nigel Farage and Reform UK, Britain's populist right-wing anti-immigration party. Yet the very constituency chosen to launch his return may expose the fragility of that argument.

Makerfield is no longer safe terrain for Labour. Although the party retained the seat in the 2024 general election with a majority of over 5,000 votes, recent local election data indicate a dramatic collapse in Labour support and a sharp rise for Reform UK. Some ward-level results reportedly placed Reform above 50% while Labour languished below 25%.

Consequently Burnham’s gamble resembles less a coronation than a political high-wire act.

If he wins convincingly, the consequences for Starmer could be devastating. Burnham would return to Parliament with immediate democratic legitimacy, backed by a visible coalition of trade unionists, northern Labour activists and MPs increasingly alarmed by the government’s decline in the polls. Already figures such as Wes Streeting, the British Minister for Health until his dramatic resignation this week, have publicly endorsed Burnham’s return to Westminster, while other senior Labour figures appear increasingly unwilling to defend Starmer with enthusiasm.

Moreover Burnham possesses something Starmer increasingly appears to lack: a recognisable political identity. Starmer’s premiership has become associated with administrative caution, technocratic language and managerial restraint at precisely the historical moment when electorates across Europe appear to crave emotional clarity, ideological definition and economic protectionism. Burnham, by contrast, has cultivated the image of a northern tribune — combative during the Covid disputes with Westminster, publicly interventionist on transport and housing issues, and rhetorically closer to Labour’s traditional municipal socialism.

This does not necessarily mean Burnham would make a successful Prime Minister. But it explains why many within Labour increasingly see him as politically alive while Starmer appears politically exhausted.

Yet the most fascinating aspect of this drama is the possibility that Burnham may fail altogether.

The risks to Burnham personally are immense. To stand for Parliament he will effectively have to abandon or fatally compromise his position as Mayor of Greater Manchester. If he loses the by-election, he may find himself stripped simultaneously of his regional authority and denied entry into Westminster. In that scenario, his political career would not merely stall; it could collapse entirely.

This explains why some observers interpret the entire Makerfield operation not merely as a rebellion against Starmer, but as a carefully structured political trap.

From one perspective Starmer appears conciliatory. Reports indicate his allies will not attempt formally to block Burnham’s candidacy before Labour’s governing body, the National Executive Committee. Yet there is a subtler interpretation available. Allowing Burnham to proceed may actually serve Starmer’s interests better than obstructing him.

If Burnham were blocked by the party machine, he could portray himself as the victim of an authoritarian leadership terrified of internal democracy. Such martyrdom might strengthen his eventual leadership prospects. But if Burnham is permitted to stand and then loses to Reform UK in a northern seat that Labour once regarded as secure, the result would destroy the mythology surrounding him. The “King in the North” would suddenly appear incapable even of winning a parliamentary by-election in Labour territory.

In that event Starmer could plausibly argue that however dissatisfied Labour activists may feel, the alternatives are even weaker.

The danger for Labour is that either outcome exposes the party’s deeper crisis.

If Burnham wins, Starmer may face an organised leadership challenge from a rival with fresh legitimacy and considerable activist enthusiasm. If Burnham loses, Reform UK will have demonstrated that it can capture working-class Labour territory in the North West of England — a development potentially catastrophic for Labour’s long-term electoral prospects. Either result reveals profound instability inside the governing party.

What is unfolding therefore is not simply a feud between two politicians. It is a struggle over Labour’s post-Blair identity in an era of populist fragmentation. Starmer represents the politics of institutional restoration: competence, moderation and managerial government after years of Conservative chaos. Burnham represents something more emotionally rooted in place, class and municipal identity — a politics closer to the older Labour traditions of civic socialism and regional solidarity.

The Makerfield by-election has become the arena in which these competing visions collide.

For Burnham, the contest offers the shortest possible road to Downing Street — but also perhaps the shortest road to political oblivion. For Starmer, permitting the contest may appear dangerous, yet it also offers the possibility that his most plausible rival destroys himself before ever reaching Westminster.

And hovering over both men is the increasingly disruptive presence of Reform UK, whose rise now threatens not merely Conservative dominance in England but the internal coherence of Labour itself.