Starmer’s Decision to Alter the Key Benefits Bill Shows Labour’s Rebels Are Leading the Charge

LIKE a fishmonger with a fresh kipper, the Prime Minister laid his key welfare proposal on the table, reached for a sharp knife, and sliced through its core.

He then took this stripped-down piece and offered it to the eagerly awaiting Labour MPs, who were in charge, even though the pared-down Bill managed to pass the crucial Commons vote last night.

The slow-motion car crash over Labour’s flagship benefit reforms has been nothing short of a disaster.

It’s troubling that the PM might now shy away from addressing this vital issue again—one critical to the future of British politics—out of fear of a revolt among his supporters.

But the whole sorry saga has also laid bare a deeper dysfunction within Starmer’s premiership that threatens to drive his administration into the deep freeze.

The omnishambles that has played out in recent weeks is worth recapping.

After the Government’s original plans to squeeze benefits were leaked earlier this year, ministers then watered down their ambitions to a paltry £5billion in savings.

Humiliated and bruised

Despite this barely scratching the surface of the ballooning handouts bill, the language from Downing Street was that getting people off benefits was a “moral” mission.

But it was a mission that did not survive an ambush by 120 Labour MPs, who pledged to back a wrecking amendment sinking Starmer’s reforms.

What followed from No10 was a mix of persuasion, scare tactics, angry phone calls and arm-twisting before the inevitable: Keir caved.

By bending to the revolt, the PM not only slashed the projected savings, but appeared as robust as a Mr Whippy ice cream in the current heatwave.

His claim to have been distracted by global events also did little to win favour with a public who rightly expect their leaders to multi-task.

Humiliated and bruised, at least Downing Street had appeased disgruntled MPs to the point they would hold their noses and let the Bill pass.

Or so ministers thought. Naive Welfare Secretary Liz Kendall’s statement on Monday detailing the weakened package only made things worse.

By hastily redrawing the plans in the face of rebellion, she had, those same rebels bleated, now created a “three-tier system” for benefit claimants while still pushing 150,000 into poverty.

Still high from their initial victory, some blood-scenting MPs refused to fall into line and instead had a crack at extracting further concessions to buy their support.

After a succession of U-turns in the last few weeks, there is a growing sense that Starmer is not in control

Cue another disaster from Kendall, who yesterday paraded the remaining scraps of the Government’s welfare package ahead of the vote.

But it only took another public pasting from her own MPs — and the Government blinked again. In the hours before the vote, the Bill was being watered down even further.

It was left to Kendall’s deputy, Stephen Timms, to deliver the coup de grace from the dispatch box — the central plans to tighten the criteria for disability handouts would be dumped entirely.

The Bill now mutilated beyond recognition, is it any surprise MPs were last night urging ministers to put it out of its misery altogether?

One cabinet minister told me last night: “It hasn’t been our finest hour”.

You can say that again. How has Starmer found himself in such an invidious position just a year into his premiership?

MPs are grumbling about his all-powerful Downing Street Chief of Staff, Morgan McSweeney, for being too combative and sidelining the parliamentary party.

Suggestions the No10 svengali, credited with banishing the Loony Left and turning Labour into an election-winning machine, would be sent packing were yesterday shut down by Starmer himself.

While admitting “frustrations” with the handling of recent days, an ally told me last night that “we simply wouldn’t be here without Morgan” — a sentiment still shared by many.

Backbenchers grumble that the famously unclubbable PM has failed to press the flesh with them in the tea rooms and bars of Westminster.

After a succession of U-turns in the last few weeks, there is a growing sense that Starmer is not in control.

At Cabinet yesterday morning, he tried to gee up his top team by rattling off their list of achievements one year into the job.

Reasons to be cheerful were: “A cut in NHS waiting lists, investment in transport, major infrastructure decisions, funding for social and affordable housing, extending free school meals and introducing free breakfast clubs.”

In other words, they’ve been very good at spending money — which is now drying up.

The retreat on welfare savings means Chancellor Rachel Reeves will have even less wriggle room in her Autumn Budget.

More tax rises

Worshipping at the altar of the Office for Budget Responsibility means that, despite presiding over an economy worth £3trillion, the extra cost of welfare and winter fuel U-turns has left her scrambling to find another £5billion or so.

Ministers last night could not even say how much their newly enfeebled package would save.

But if aides around Starmer think Things Can Only Get Better, they will face a whole new world of political pain should they come back for more tax rises.

Already, speculation is swirling that the Chancellor is eyeing a hike in fuel duty, which would unforgivably betray millions of drivers at a time of volatile oil markets.

He now needs to get an urgent grip, or it won’t be the last time he gets done up like a kipper

She is also considering going back on a promise made just months ago to end the freeze on income tax thresholds.

Asked yesterday if she was still committed to scrapping these stealth taxes, she ducked and weaved.

One year in office, and Sir Keir has had the worst anniversary present possible — a duffing-up by many in his own party, and an unceremonious humiliation.

He now needs to get an urgent grip, or it won’t be the last time he gets done up like a kipper.

Last night dozens of Labour MPs, including half the Cabinet, piled on to the Commons terrace to let off steam.

“It’s been a week, and it’s only Tuesday,” said one weary MP.