Andy Burnham- the next Prime Minister?

 Andy Burnham - the next Prime Minister?

It's all turning rather ugly and unseemly at the top of the political hierarchy. This is not a good nor is it an edifying watch. You can look away if you like because things are so unsavoury and unpleasant in the British government's highest circles that it may be advisable to switch off your TVs or screens now. It started a couple of weeks when the vultures were hovering around Westminster and the House of Commons began to resemble a bearpit where an explosion of discord and discontented rumblings could be heard as far away as Land's End or John O' Groats. London was a busy and eventful city once again. 

Meanwhile deep within the whispering corridors and lobbies of the House of Commons there was all manner of chaos and bedlam. Malicious rumours were circulating that were so rampant and toxic that you'd have been forgiven for thinking that there were evil spirits haunting the old building. Perhaps there were medieval executioners still in existence waiting for the right moment. The axe was about to fall on yet another Prime Minister and the smell of blood was ghastly. Surely not another fallen Prime Minister. 

But then again why not? We'd seen exactly the same film and read a similar novel on innumerable occasions. You know how it goes? You give a new Prime Minister the benefit of the doubt and then a year or two later down the line the whole deck of cards is sent toppling over and it's just a complete disaster. We've afforded this particular Prime Minister far too much time and leniency so for Sir Keir Starmer, it was time to pick up your P45, leave 10 Downing Street now and don't forget to feed Larry the Cat before you go. 

So here we go folks. It's showtime, that pivotal moment in a Prime Minister's tenure when the good folk of Britain turn against you, becoming totally fed up with you, exasperated beyond belief, boiling over with righteous indignation, fuming and furious, utterly incensed, beyond the point of forgiveness and steaming over with despair and disenchantment. And that was only yesterday. So Starmer comes out all guns blazing, the gloves are off and what else do you expect him to do? He's given it his best shot. But, clearly this is not good enough. 

There is a boredom threshold within British politics that means if the current Prime Minister hasn't instilled the feelgood factor within at least the first five minutes, they'd better think again because for Starmer's Labour party, this particular idea isn't working for anybody least of all the great British public. Being Prime Minister is officially the poisoned chalice and it won't get any better before it gets worse. This is becoming so comical and amusing that if it were to appear at the end of a seaside pier, you might want to give it a visit. 

And then a gentleman who used to be the Mayor of Manchester decided to throw his hat into the ring. He was rather curious whether there were any jobs going at Westminster. He'd heard about the catastrophic losses that the Labour party had suffered at the recent local and national elections and he was definitely interested. He didn't want to stir up any hornet's nest or muscle into territory where his presence would not be welcome but he did fancy the top job in 10 Downing Street. Any chance of that happening? It was worth a try so why not?

For over a month or so there have been  incidents of scandalous back stabbing, members of the Cabinet breathing fire, storming out of 10 Downing Street, resigning on the spot, bickering childishly and sticking the proverbial two fingers up in the air at any Labour minister within earshot. They were  mad with anger, demeaning and denigrating one another with personal abuse. Poor Sir Keir Starmer. Nobody deserves this kind of treatment. And then there was Andy Burnham. 

Yes folks Andy Burnham. That Andy Burnham who's done so much to transform the landscape of Manchester in recent years. Burnham would probably go into raptures about his club Everton's famous 60 goal a season Dixie Dean. A couple of weeks ago, Burnham was seen running around the streets of his local Makerfield community and wishing that Everton could win the Premier League just to  prove that he cared about the people, the common man, the football supporter who would faithfully stand on the terraces at the old Goodison Park and then move his allegiance to the Hill Dickinson Stadium. 

He pounded the streets wearing an Everton shirt, concentration fixed, a devoted Labour party supporter, red through and through although blue when Everton were playing over the weekend. Of course he was ambitious, aspirational, straining every muscle in his athletic body and desperate for recognition. At first he'd have been quite content to stand in the shadows of his boss Sir Keir Starmer. But you know what it's like? The boss is just not up to the job and, quite frankly, he's getting on your nerves. 

There are even louder noises of  criticism, red blooded disgust and opprobrium, a nasty air of vindictiveness, almost, dare we say it, a vendetta against Starmer. You could hear and feel it in every brick and mortar in the House of Commons. They were stamping up and down madly, the natives were definitely restless, all was not well. They were hurling insults and pejorative comments at the Prime Minister and they were nasty and personal. 

But some of us were delighted to see Burnham in such fine form. He could be the man to step up to the plate because he had the finger on the pulse of the nation. How hard could it be the Prime Minister? If the likes of Boris Johnson, Liz Truss, Rishi Sunak could do it why not Burnham? But the truth is that we'd given the Tories 14 years to get it right and they were so polarised and divided at the end that it looked as though they were just colliding into each other, not knowing which direction to go. 

But Andy Burnham looks credible, the real deal, personable and likeable, the most eloquent of all orators, down to earth, full of common sense and just a decent chap. He seems to be expressing all of the right statements that the country needs to hear but this may be time to err on the side of caution. There has to be a skeleton in his cupboard, an underlying agenda, something he'd rather not tell us about. He's a great talker, a natural communicator, a charmer in dinner party conversation and he'll be the one to boost flagging Labour party spirits. Then again we do have worrying reservations because they all say that.

And yet it could still go horribly wrong, backfiring on him and hitting him in the face quite painfully. Look at where the Labour party have got us in the past. Historically, Tony Blair was probably the most intelligent, successful, capable and resourceful Prime Minister Britain have ever had. He gave us Education, Education and Education. But then things rapidly went downhill when Blair frogmarched us into the Iraq - Afghanistan  war and President George Bush thought they he and Blair were the best of friends. It was all terribly awkward, irresponsible, careless, warlike and very aggressive. 

Further back in time there was a passionate Welshman called Neil Kinnock. Kinnock almost snatched the reins from the formidable and incomparable Margaret Thatcher. Kinnock just begged and implored the public to vote for him at the General Election and much good that did him. Kinnock started falling out with the unions and just couldn't get the message across to Britain quite as effectively as he would have liked. So Kinnock bowed out of the limelight and was more or less forgotten. 

Finally there was Michael Foot, a leader of the Labour party with no dress sense and was about as likely to get his feet behind the doors of 10 Downing Street as Larry the Cat. Foot was all fiery political double speak and rousing rhetoric which went down so badly at the House of Commons Questions and Answers time that comparisons were made to damp, wet and dirty cloths. Then Foot disgraced himself with that celebrated ragged, old, threadbare donkey jacket on Remembrance Sunday in November. What on earth was that all about?

And so for Andy Burnham, the next rabid Socialist weekly wannabe. Burnham would vehemently distance himself from any Socialist proclivities. He hasn't a Socialist bone in his body and besides, he would tell us, he probably doesn't read the magazine. But Burnham is photogenic at the moment, an excellent public relations man, cautious and diplomatic at the moment and just taking things one step at a time. 

But Burnham is progressive, go ahead, listening to those who may have their doubts, in touch with the dustman, the working man or woman, the postman who delivers your post, the milkman who regularly drops several pints of semi skimmed milk on your doorstep and Great Britain as a vast collective. 

Shortly the good citizens of Makerfield will be given the choice as who should become the next leader of their constituency. If he can negotiate the minefield that is the Green Party or the Reform UK party then you never know. These are turbulent but exciting times for the Labour government. There is a chance that for those who remember the old days, Harold Wilson is still looking benignly down on Burnham. Then again Wilson was a fervent Huddersfield Town supporter so maybe not. Who would be a Prime Minister? Certainly not.