October 10, 2023 - 4:00pm

Liverpool

We were somewhere around the convention centre basement, on the edge of Liverpool’s Albert Dock, when the excitement began to take hold. Sunday evening marked the conclusion of the first day of Labour’s annual conference, the point at which panel events on housing morph seamlessly into piss-ups, and the Association of Labour Councillors was buzzing in anticipation for the guest of honour. 

Keir Starmer’s arrival at the reception was greeted with the kind of fervour among the Labour base once reserved for his predecessor, Jeremy Corbyn. Critics may well remark that a cult of personality requires a personality to begin with, but those present could attest that something like Keirmania seemed to be in evidence. Amid the scrum of selfie-seekers, Starmer was dressed-down in a blue shirt, sans tie, and chatting with councillors and Fabian fanboys alike. He seemed to know them all by name.

This afternoon, for his big speech, it was back on with the tie and back to the public presentation which even members of his shadow cabinet describe as boring. Excepting a dangerous brush with some glitter at the beginning, his Leader’s Speech was workmanlike.

It sat at odds with the enthusiasm about Starmer as a figurehead, as opposed to a begrudging acceptance that competence is better than chaos, that I saw earlier in the conference in Liverpool. After revelations earlier this year concerning his illicit past as a black-market ice cream vendor, the question must now be begged: does Keir Starmer have charisma that he only reveals in private?

While Home Secretary Suella Braverman got an easy laugh at Tory Conference earlier this month when she cited Starmer as her party’s “secret weapon”, the Labour leader’s own trump card, on show as he worked the room of loyal lower-down party workers, is his personal affability. “He’s authentic,” a slightly nervous 19-year-old student visiting from Durham told me. “You can see in these settings [with members] that he’s much more comfortable than he is with the media”. A middle-aged councillor from the South West of England told me that Starmer is genuinely involved with the party at a local level. “He’s interested in what we do,” she said, “and that means a lot when we feel our work can sometimes go unnoticed.”

Minutes after my arrival at “Northern Night”, half an hour after the councillors reception, Starmer made a surprise appearance too. His brief speech hit the usual notes, vowing to bring pride back to the party and drawing attention to Northern mayoral candidates, but the most striking thing, once again, was the passion from the crowd. 

Cut to Tuesday afternoon and Starmer was back to platitudes about “fixing tomorrow’s challenges, today” and appealing to the talent-show-viewer vote with anecdotes about his family. Voters who had previously dismissed him as uninspiring were unlikely to have changed their mind. 

Chances of a landslide victory would dramatically improve if the Labour leader could avoid the awkward football jokes and the soundbites, and discover the self-assured, engaged leader who was on show in the private receptions. He has been appraised as modest — “less seduced by glitz” than Tony Blair — and in his own quiet way a radical. Labour is doing comfortably in the polls on a platform of managerialism and ship-steadying, but the party may just have another weapon to deploy, if Starmer’s secret charisma could only be revealed to the world.


is UnHerd’s Assistant Editor, Newsroom.

RobLownie