Keir’s Kismet

Another interior monologue from Keir Starmer on his suspension of four Labour rebels
who voted against the Pathways to Work green paper, Rachael Maskell, Neil Duncan-Jordan,
Brian Leishman and Chris Hinchliff, on 16 July 2025

by Alan Morrison

Our humiliating climb down during the heated debate
On the Pathways to Poverty Work green paper
Just in order to get the gutted gist of the thing
Through Parliament must be ameliorated somehow
Because my authority has been seriously undermined
(And I don’t need rebel backbenchers to remind me
That we’re supposed to be the Labour Party—
I get that, & that’s why I’ve dismantled changed it entirely),
So I must stamp my superiority authority
On this public debacle that has so disappointed
Our friends at The Spectator & Telegraph,
Not to say those red top anti-welfare cheerleaders,
The Express & Sun in particular, & reduced
My Chancellor to tears of frustration when
Our opportunity to go even further than Cameron,
‘Chopper’ Osborne & Duncan ‘Slicer’ Smith
In chucking the sick & disabled off the fiscal cliff,
Was cruelly snatched from us by a bunch
Of bleeding-hearted filibustering virtue-signallers
On the backbenches who seem to think politics
Is butterflies & roses & compassionate posturing,
Rather than what it is: a squalid business
Of scheming & careerism trumping principle
For privileges, freebies, prestige & property-
flipping fly tipping, an empty-hearted power play…

So I’ve democratically decided to remove
The party whip from four of those leading
Labour welfare rebels: Rachael Maskell (she
Of that bill-killing amendment), Neil Duncan-
Jordan, Brian Leishman & Chris Hinchliff
(Either for the same thing or something to do with
Passionately pleading to protect our chalk streams,
You know, some flat earth crank eco-nonsense)—
As of today they are all suspended pending
Investigation for persistent rebel-ness (is there
Such a word?) & breaching party discipline—
& for what? Just to protect PIP recipients
From a financial pasting…? Apparently
Those namby-pamby rebel apologists for
Indigence & incapacity seemed to be under
The delusion that entering mainstream politics
Means they can actually try to help the poor
& underprivileged—I ask you, what sort of party
Has those kind of values…? Oh right, okay,
So the Labour Party did once, most recently
Under Jeremy Corbyn, but I put paid to that
By promptly suspending him pending his apology
That was not forthcoming, then expelling him
Completely, as well as purging as many
Lefties as I could find spurious pretexts,
But clearly there are still some of the Left left,
& I know from my own exploits in political
Duplicity that I don’t want opponents at my back,
So purge them I must, & keep on purging,
Until I only have around me a handful of people
I feel I can trust—& if that sounds paranoid,
Consider yourself suspended pending pending
Pending never-ending pending then expending…

Some nickname me Keir Stalin but, come on,
I’m hardly up to Soviet Joseph’s calibre, I mean,
Okay, I play at being a petty despot by brooking
No debate or disagreement (although we did
Both come from fairly working-class backgrounds,
Stalin’s father was a shoemaker, & mine,
In case you didn’t know, was a toolmaker),
& I’m hardly a Vladimir Putin, I’m not so
Poker-faced as that, more of a face like a slapped
Bus pass, I’m just your proverbial neoliberal
Establishment stooge propelled to prime minister,
Why exactly I’m here I’m still not quite sure,
Except that it seemed like a good idea
At the time & really the only way up
From head of the Crown Prosecution Service
Was to become prime minister—all I’ve done,
All I’ve undone, all the grubby backroom deals
& greasy handshaking & back-stabbing
& promise-breaking & smearing & spurious
Weaponising & anti-immigrant dogwhistling
& flag-shagging-tagging has been a long game
Towards topping my CPS Chief Prosecutor
Stature with the premiership on my CV—
Then, like all canny Roman emperors, I’ll
Make sure when I finally leave office that there’s
A much worse character following behind me,
So that posterity will contrast me more kindly,
I’m already briefing Nigel Farage as we speak,
Though I only hope that I’ll not instead be
Eternally hated & perpetually despised
For having let in the first fascist openly xenophobic
British government… Oh shit, I hadn’t really
Thought of that… But it’s too late, I’m committed
To the course… I’ve come a bloody long way
From toolmaker’s son to a Knight of the Realm
(I’ll get down on one knee if you’ll elevate me),
From human rights lawyer to genocide enabler/
Advocate for cutting off electricity & water,
Strange little islander (No, I misspoke on those
Occasions!), protest-stopper & placard-stamper,
Kid Starver, what a palaver & disability basher,
From condemning & sentencing (& extending
Sentencing for benefit cheats in my clampdown
Of 2013), to purging & suspending
Pending investigating, pending expelling,
Pending pending, upending, albeit depending
On which way the political weathervane is… bending…
I’m a political opportunist, no use pretending,
My conscience is clear of any socialism pending
Self-investigation, it’s been so since unfriending
Jeremy but actually ‘twas even so before that:
I came into the Labour Party to dismantle it,
My destiny it seemed to do the complete opposite
To my namesake James ‘Keir’ Hardie—call it kismet,
Hardie—who was the first to raise it, so I’m to bin it,
More a James Ramsay MacDonald on a doctored ticket
I’ll not rest until the Party has no more Labour in it
(& it seems it’s that time of year again while I’m at it
To re-suspend that ‘trailblazer’ Dianne Abbott)…

& what have I to fear from attracting bad karma?
I’ll simply suspend it, or I’m not called Keir Starmer.