The most revealing moment of Starmer's premiership to date.(Credit: Aris Messinis/AFP/Getty)

Power corrupts, famously — but it also reveals. With each decision a political leader takes, we catch a glimpse of the instincts which guide them. The same is true of Keir Starmer’s decision to revoke arms licences to Israel, the most revealing moment of his premiership to date.
Henry Kissinger, the late sage of power, offered the best explanation for why, in politics, instincts matter more than policy. In most democratic societies, he observed, power is little more than the obligation to make decisions that are deemed too important or finely balanced to be taken by anyone else. Easy or unimportant decisions do not reach the prime minister, because they have already been taken further down the chain of command. Only the most difficult ones — those where the evidence is inconclusive and the consequences profound — land at the leader’s desk.
When such verdicts are required, a leader often does not have the luxury of time to wait before making the call. The decision needs to be taken in an instant: to shoot down a plane, respond to a provocation, stop a war, ban arms exports before the arms are used. Instead, leaders must rely on judgement, a quality defined less by intelligence than character — that great mishmash of moral assumptions, prejudices and instincts formed in early life. Margaret Thatcher was driven by the patriotic, self-reliant methodism of her father. For Tony Blair, it was the missionary zeal of the Christian progressivism he found at university. But what is it for Starmer?
I was recently told by someone close to the Prime Minister that he is hard to read, but at heart is just a simple social democrat. But something about this doesn’t ring quite true. Starmer is not driven by the kind of deep commitment to socialism that fueled the post-war Labour giants from Clement Attlee to Harold Wilson. That much is clear from his time as leader of the opposition. Rather, at the heart of Starmer’s deepest instincts and assumptions is something more banal: “Left-legal liberalism,” as another senior figure put it to me with obvious disappointment. “That’s the instinct — and I’m not sure he even knows it.”
In the absence of god and socialism, Left-legal liberalism is the Starmerite code. Faced with a choice to withdraw export licences to Israel at the risk of undermining Britain’s diplomatic standing or to maintain them but potentially be forced to revoke them later by the courts, Starmer chose to follow the legalistic process. He hoped it would signal a compromise, both maintaining Britain’s legal obligations and its diplomatic standing, by removing only a small percentage of the overall number of export licences already in place. This was not driven by morality or realpolitik, but legalism. The risk, though, is that it is a compromise which does the exact opposite of what it was intended, annoying everyone and assuaging no-one.
This is the danger Starmer faces on all fronts. If Left-legal liberalism is the Starmerite code, it is one that seems uniquely ill-suited to our world in which the mythical “rules-based order” of old has been replaced by the hard realities of power politics: a world in which Houthi rebels control the Red Sea, the United States has all but abandoned the pretence of global free trade, Vladimir Putin mockingly dismisses the international warrant that has been issued for his arrest, and China continues to do everything in its power to extend its global influence. Even the US’s prospective prosecutor-in-general Kamala Harris, who on the face of it shares many of Starmer’s Left-legal instincts, will be forced to act with far more hard-nosed realism if she wins the presidency.
Join the discussion
Join like minded readers that support our journalism by becoming a paid subscriber
To join the discussion in the comments, become a paid subscriber.
Join like minded readers that support our journalism, read unlimited articles and enjoy other subscriber-only benefits.
Subscribe