There is one thing on which everyone in Labour agrees: the party badly needs the summer recess. An exhausted government, ministers hope, will benefit from the space for reflection that the parliamentary break affords.
Keir Starmer and Rachel Reeves have endured some of the worst weeks of their political lives. Former loyalists despair at a lack of political direction and openly question whether the Prime Minister should fight the next general election (the government’s net approval rating has fallen to a record low of -54).
Reeves, whose unpopularity rivals that of Starmer, may have been saved by the bond market but she now serves at its pleasure. The Office for Budget Responsibility’s almost apocalyptic review of the public finances was just the latest indicator of the nightmarish arithmetic that will define this autumn’s Budget.
But away from the smouldering wreckage of Labour’s first year in government stands one person: Angela Rayner. The Deputy Prime Minister was the only senior figure to emerge strengthened from the welfare debacle (and cabinet ministers say, was “instrumental” to the settlement agreed).
A year ago, the Westminster narrative was that Rayner had been marginalised. Denied a formal Office of the Deputy Prime Minister (against her wishes) and permanent membership of the National Security Council, with policy briefs such as planning and workers’ rights “lost” to Reeves and Jonathan Reynolds. It didn’t take long before Pat McFadden started to be described as “the real Deputy Prime Minister”.
That’s a label we’ve heard rather less recently – something the unassuming Scotsman will welcome – and with good reason. Over the last month Rayner has been everywhere: chairing cabinet for the first time, twice standing in for Starmer at PMQs and emerging with £39bn for affordable housing from Reeves’ Spending Review (a tribute, MPs say, to the former shop steward’s negotiating skills). International diplomacy, too, is a sometimes unappreciated part of Rayner’s brief: she will this week represent the UK at the Ukraine Recovery Conference in Rome (and met JD Vance in the same city back in May).
And that long-mooted ODPM? It’s on its way (housed in the Cabinet Office with around 30 staff). Rayner allies reject claims this should be seen as a reward for her loyalty during the fraught welfare process – John Prescott, they point out, didn’t gain such an office until 2002. But it will further entrench her status as a powerbroker.
For Rayner, the post of Deputy Prime Minister could have been a curse rather than a blessing. There were two obvious risks: the first was that she would lose her political identity, simply becoming the fall girl for unpopular decisions (recall the fate of Nick Clegg during the coalition years). The second was that she would be distinctive but impotent – cast as a permanent troublemaker as the “grown-ups” got on with the business of administration. But Rayner, through no small political skill, has avoided either of these unpalatable outcomes.
Inside government she has pursued an unashamedly Labourist policy agenda – expanding rights for workers and renters – with the political definition that critics believe Starmer has too often lacked (“at least she is real – none of the rest are,” Nigel Farage has approvingly remarked). Her planning reforms, meanwhile, are forecast by the Office for Budget Responsibility to boost growth by more than any single measure since 2010.
Rayner has combined this with acts of selective dissent – proposing eight tax rises in a memo to Reeves before the Spring Statement (as welfare cuts were announced). When that document was leaked it was assailed by some as an irresponsible act of political overreach. But it now looks prescient. A Treasury desperate for revenue can ill afford to rule out any tax rises. And Rayner, who emphasised that her measures would be “would be popular, prudent, and would not raise taxes on working people”, can argue that she sought to pre-empt a political disaster.
Here is why Rayner – the second most-popular cabinet minister among Labour members after Ed Miliband – is increasingly spoken of as the frontrunner to replace Starmer (with Wes Streeting, who has a good story to tell on falling NHS waiting lists, viewed as her chief rival). When Rayner declared back in May that she “never” wanted to become prime minister it was viewed as a classic politician’s answer. Yet privately some of those who know her best insist the opposite – it was a very human response from someone who understands the strains the job would impose and doesn’t want it.
But should the ball come free from the scrum, would Rayner, like so many others before her, be unable to resist? What we can say with certainty is that she will keep being asked.
This piece first appeared in the Morning Call newsletter; receive it every morning by subscribing on Substack here
[See also: The insurgent left]
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