In Shakespearean England, the most popular pastime was bear-baiting. Dogs were unleashed to bite and torment the bear chained to a stake. Crowds roared, cheered and betted as the animals growled and howled, mauling, clawing, tearing in the blood-soaked pit. The bloodsport was banned in 1835, but it seems to have taken a modern twist.
The bear is replaced by the prime minister, the “Beargarden” by British politics. The UK has had four prime ministers in three years, all baited, battered and booted out. Says journalist Polly Toynbee, “This country is becoming almost ungovernable. It is a terrible job, and whoever gets the job will be torn down.”
The current bear-at-the-stake is Keir Starmer, the beleaguered fifth prime minister in five years. For two relentless months, he has been besieged and bludgeoned with calls for resignations over revelations involving his ambassador’s links with Jeffrey Epstein, policy reversals, mistakes… but, above all, for his Labour party’s devastating defeat in the recent local elections—its worst in a century. Starmer apologised, accepted responsibility. Then what? Then nothing. The spine he showed in refusing to join Donald Trump’s Iran war stiffened further. Despite opposition howls and his own partymen’s growls, he refused to resign—vowing to “fight on for Britain’s sake”.
Starmer remains at the stake because the stakes are high. He faces danger not from the opposition, but from the bloodletting in his own party. His 2024 euphoric parliamentary victory now lies in ruins. Labour challengers aspire to replace him. The front-runner is Andy Burnham, the popular, thrice-elected mayor of Greater Manchester. From the ring, British tabloids screamed “Starmageddon!” “Keir today, gone tomorrow”, “Slash and Burnham”, “Game of Burns”.
Burnham’s formula for growth is implementing business-friendly policies and coopting Manchester’s administrative networks to integrate services, thus reducing prices. He is seen as Labour’s answer to fighting inflation and quelling the rising far-right Reform party led by Brexit champion Nigel Farage. Labour identifies Reform as the biggest threat to Britain.
Only parliamentarians can challenge the prime minister, so Burnham tried to become an MP in February. Starmer’s faction thwarted him, but the blocking boomeranged. In the recent local elections, Reform routed Labour. Emboldened by Starmer’s election debacle, Burnham declared his intent to contest parliament again. This time, he received vocal support. Says Labour MP Lucy Powell, “We have got to take the fight to Reform. We are at real risk of Farage walking up Downing Street in a few years’ time. We can’t let that happen.”
But the Reform dark horse may have already galloped ahead. It is now more popular than Labour in many Labour strongholds. But even a Burnham defeat ends neither Starmer’s woes nor Labour’s civil war. There are sitting MPs keen to challenge Starmer—“smooth communicator” Wes Streeting, “gawky” former deputy PM Angela Rayner, “geeky” Ed Miliband who, after leading Labour into its 2015 election defeat, said that experience “inoculated” him against future ambitions. With time, political ambitions unsurprisingly become immune to inoculations.
Politicians, pundits and public clamour for Starmer’s blood. Unlike some predecessors, his missteps are serious, but not egregious. They were not sufficient to oust him, but cumulatively they eroded his authority.
In politics, the biggest loser is the loser of votes. That is Starmer’s tragedy. In Shakespeare’s play, Macbeth says, “They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly; But bear-like, I must fight the course.” So does this battered and bruised prime minister. Despite the hounding and pounding, the baying and booing, Starmer clings to the stake. For now.
Pratap is an author and journalist.