aAs Keir Starmer settles into his new job, he will no doubt feel the weight of comparison with his predecessor. Three times before, Labour has come to power after long periods of Conservative rule, and each time it was accompanied by a powerful sense of socio-cultural change.
As Mark Twain said, history doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes. Can Starmer spark a similar impact that resonates far beyond Parliament, or will different parties have the same problems?
After a decade of Conservative governments, Clement Attlee won power in 1945, ushering in the idea of the welfare state and a more democratic Britain. In 1964, the Labour Party brought an end to 13 years of Conservatism and the monochrome post-war world was suddenly bursting with creative colour.
According to Philip Larkin, the sexual act only began in 1963, “between the end of the ‘Chatterley’ ban and the Beatles’ first LP.” This was no mere poetic expression, for sexual liberation was actually underway, with fundamental changes in mores, music, film, and fashion.
In 1997, after 18 years of Conservatism, a sense of optimism blossomed that things could only get better. Encouraged by Prime Minister Tony Blair, the energy of up-and-coming British bands and artists gave the impression that the UK was a cool place to do business – at least until a crop of young celebrities decided it wasn’t cool to attend drinking parties with government officials. But there were real-world improvements, too, such as better funding for health and education.
While Labour can count on the support of so-called “lovies” and various creative people signed letters of support during Blair’s election campaign, there is no artistic movement, creative trend or generational sensibility to coincide with Starmer’s rise. TrainspottingHe would have to create music that suited his mood.
Because, in stark contrast to 1945, 1964 and 1997, the Britain of 2024 is lacking in confidence. Fourteen years of Conservative rule have left the economy stagnant, the country in recession. The double whammy of Brexit and COVID-19 It has eroded the public’s trust.
So what will be the cultural theme of Starmer’s Britain, the signs and symbols of renewal and fresh perspective? How will society be ordered so that it can say it is unique? And who will embody the temper of the times?
Few observers or voters foresee any radical changes in the future. Many are motivated not by hopes for what is to come, but by disillusionment with the past.
But the definition of a new era may take shape in some unlikely places, and perhaps we should look there for clues about possible social change. Keir Starmer: biographyThe new cultural environment “is not Soho House and Britpop parties, but community football, kids learning the flute at school and unknown indie bands from the 1980s.”
Starmer says there is nothing fundamentally flashy about it: “This isn’t Camelot. It’s more like Center Parcs.”
gang
If Blair and Gordon Brown envisioned a new meritocracy, an Islington world of modernist restaurants like the now-defunct Granita and cocky young tycoons like the recently departed Derek Draper, their Conservative successors favoured the more advantaged and well-connected social groups.
In David Cameron’s early days there was the Notting Hill faction (remember his director of strategy Steve Hilton and his wife Rachel Whetstone?), and then in his second term there was the Chipping Norton faction (featuring Conservative luminaries such as Rebecca Brooks and Jeremy Clarkson). These groups have survived in subsequent Conservative governments, along with the Old Etonians and the Wykeham faction, but they would not fit Starmer’s worldview.
Baldwin suggests the politicians are set to move to Kentish Town. “It’s where he spent more than 20 years of his life,” Baldwin says. “It’s a big part of who he is. It’s not flashy, it’s rough around the edges. On the back of his wallet he has written: ‘Take me to Kentish Town’.”
What makes the Kentish Town rally different to previous ones is that it’s not a rally of the establishment. It features people like Colin Peacock. Who? That’s right. He’s an old friend of Starmer’s who, apart from his university days, has never lived within 15 minutes of the Labour leader.
Peacock has no interest in politics, which is why Starmer sees him as his ally.
“[Starmer] “He doesn’t locate himself in politics the way most politicians do,” Baldwin says, “he locates himself in the life he had before politics: his family, his friends, football.”
Hangout: Pineapple Pub
passion
Of course, since football has become a global obsession and big business, every politician cites it as a key cultural reference point. But in Starmer’s case, the interest seems genuine – even if he is an Arsenal fan – and a grassroots, or, more accurately, pseudo-football fan. “He lives and breathes football,” says Baldwin.
So instead of Campden Hill Tennis Club, of which Cameron and Johnson boast membership, the new social leisure venue could well be Talacre Community Sports Centre in Kentish Town, where Starmer still plays football on the artificial turf pitch and also referees the matches – an unusual combination of responsibilities that harsh critics might see as a conflict of interest.
The problem with soccer being a unifying national concern is that people root for many different teams. But if the England team, which has been the subject of sleep-inducing research, actually wins the Euros, it will be a mood boost for much of the country, especially England. In 1966, Harold Wilson is said to have joked that England could only win the World Cup if the Labour Party was in power. On the flip side, four years later England were eliminated in the World Cup quarter-finals and four days later Wilson lost the election to Ted Heath’s Conservative Party.
Still, Starmer’s tendency to see life through football metaphors could help foster a more populist national dialogue and bridge the cultural gap between rulers and the ruled. One thing is certain: he likes to start on the left and drift to the centre, although critics argue he has sometimes taken right-wing positions.
Hangout: Emirates West Stand
run away
Just as Blair loved hosting Silvio Berlusconi in Tuscany and Cliff Richard in Barbados, Cameron was a regular in the Balearics and Cornwall, and Johnson stuck to his freebies in Mustique, the prime ministers’ holiday destinations seem to say something about the occupants of Room 10 that isn’t always apparent when they’re at home.
The Prime Minister is not just a politician, but a symbol of the national interest and approved action. In an age of cut-offs from oil, long-distance holidays are not the norm. So it is fitting that Starmer, who recently visited Center Parcs, has a fondness for the Lake District, a childhood holiday destination reachable by energy-efficient train from Euston.
The Lake District isn’t exactly a secret, but it was to football commentator Gary Neville, who confessed he’d never heard of it during a filmed excursion with Starmer. The region may not need more tourists, but there’s something decidedly un-urban about this corner of England – its unpretentious warmth, dank B&Bs and low-pressure showers. Staycations are here to stay.
Hangout: Langdale Valley
