Could Keir Starmer really be facing a leadership contest?

Perhaps it is simply a matter of inexperienced Labour backbenchers descending into a state of panic, or lobby journalists looking for a bit of excitement, but a question is being asked around Westminster that would have seemed beyond belief after last year’s decisive election result: “How can we get rid of Keir Starmer?”

As Margaret Thatcher remarked, in somewhat similar circumstances: “It’s a funny old world.”

No, and rightly so. If every time a premier taking tough decisions incurred unpopularity, parliamentary democracy could hardly function. Starmer’s victory last year represented, in part, a personal mandate for him as well as Labour. It is asking a lot for that to be put aside by his own backbenchers; indeed, given that about half of them got their new jobs only last July, they owe something to Starmer.

Once upon a time, prime ministers were only ousted by their own parties in the most unusual of circumstances; it happened in both world wars at moments of extreme jeopardy. It later became more common, but only during the last period of Conservative government did it become routine.

In principle, the process is simple – but politically hazardous. Assuming Starmer cannot be prevailed upon to resign, and thus there is no vacancy, “nominations may be sought by potential challengers each year prior to the annual session of party conference ... in this case any nomination must be supported by 20 per cent of the Commons members of the PLP. The sitting Leader or Deputy Leader shall not be required to seek nominations in the event of a challenge under this rule.”

At the moment, that means about 80 Labour MPs would need to nominate a single candidate by the start of the Labour conference on Sunday September 28.

Not easily, even if he could get 80-plus MPs to back him. Whether a leadership candidate must be a sitting MP at the time of their nomination is unclear in the Labour rulebook. Even if he were eligible for the leadership, he would subsequently need to become an MP through a convenient by-election or by persuading someone else – Graham Stringer is a name mentioned – to stand down. He’d then have to see off a spirited Reform UK challenge.

He’s entitled to, but might think better of it. It would depend on the margin of his prospective victory. If he judged he’d crush an opponent, he might think it worthwhile; otherwise, it just prolongs the agony.

He’d need those 80 existing MPs to back him, which is a significant number. Other candidates might also join the fray, from all wings of the party, and in due course defeat him. A full leadership election would take weeks and involve hustings and plenty of bitter arguments – a party visibly and dreadfully divided against itself. The current deputy leadership election, with Lucy Powell and Bridget Phillipson running as proxies for Burnham and Starmer respectively, suggests that Burnham would not be humiliated – but a race for premiership would be a very different affair.

So there’s no guarantee Burnham would win, in which case he would have swapped the mayoralty of Manchester for being a backbencher – or, at most, a return to the cabinet.

Sometimes a change of PM, even in messy circumstances, can yield an immediate boost in the opinion polls and presage a subsequent recovery and general election win. It worked for John Major and the Conservatives when they ditched Thatcher in 1990, and again with Boris Johnson when he supplanted Theresa May in 2019. In both cases, there was a clear change in policy – on the poll tax and then on Brexit. But not for Rishi Sunak after 2022; nor for Gordon Brown after he eased Tony Blair out in 2007 – in both cases with quite a lot of continuity.

What scale of difference in policy could Burnham or any other alternative premier achieve, compared to Starmer and trying to persist with the 2024 manifesto? Given the limited options available on the economy, public finances, public sector reform and irregular migration, it is hard to see how anyone would be able to do better.

That often tends to be the case with failing premiers, with the cabinet, chief whip or party grandees playing the role of candid friends giving the bad news. Treachery with a smile on its face.