Picture the scene: the main party of the centre left is back in power after more than a decade dominated by the right. In his mid-60s, a technocratic, naturally cautious leader suddenly finds himself leading a country that seems to have lost its way. The economy is faltering, growth is anaemic, and public investment is badly needed. Yet he holds tight to fiscal discipline, with key policies – including on the climate crisis – watered down to meet tight spending rules. More than two years into his term in office the government is adrift, with a widespread sense that it lacks any vision for the future. Filling this void, the radical right is resurgent and immigration is dominating national politics. The centre left is languishing in the polls and heading for defeat at the next election.
This is not a vision of the future for Keir Starmer and his Labour party, but a description of the present in Germany. There, in 2021, Olaf Scholz unexpectedly led his centre-left Social Democratic party (SPD) back to the top of government for the first time since Gerhard Schröder lost to Angela Merkel in 2005. Having won power largely promising continuity, he has not seemed to know what to do with it. He has struggled to articulate a vision for his country, boxed in by a commitment to fiscal discipline. With few major achievements to its name, his SPD lies third in the polls behind a resurgent Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), a far-right party whose politicians were recently caught openly discussing a plan to deport up to 2 million German immigrants to Africa.
We fear that the parallels between Labour and the SPD might continue after the UK’s general election, which seems nearly certain to bring Starmer to power. Labour has been ruthlessly cautious, ditching any policy that it believes might threaten its lead. Its ambitious £28bn plan to invest in the green transition is just the latest in a string of once bold policies that have hit the chopping block. Its manifesto looks set to offer incremental changes, at best, in a country badly in need of fundamental reform to its policies and governance.
The problem, as Scholz is finding out, is that modern electorates are often fickle and impatient. Promises of more competent management can win the electoral war but aren’t enough to preside over the post-election peace. The resultant disconnect between the government’s limited ambitions and the country’s need for change frustrates voters. Polls show that the British people are deeply dissatisfied with the state of their country. They recognise that public services are underfunded, local councils are in crisis, and the institutions of government are not fit for purpose. With trust in politics and politicians at a historic low, they may be as quick as the German electorate to turn on a government that seems unable to meet the challenges of the day. A key danger is that subsequent discontent is exploited by the far right, as it has been by the AfD. In the UK, this could come from a resurgent Conservative party led by the right, or a reinvigorated Reform party.
Labour’s strategy may be the easiest path to victory, but it complicates what happens next. Some hope that Starmer will be able to pivot after an election from prudent managerialism to ambitious reformism. Yet Scholz’s woes show how difficult this is to pull off. Lacking any electoral mandate for bold change, those pushing for change within the party can find it hard to win the argument. Having won an election, advocates of caution have the upper hand. The dominant narrative becomes “we won the election because we did not promise bold change, and a pivot now would threaten that position”.
Despite evidence to the contrary, politicians of the centre left seem convinced that centrism and incrementalism are necessary to win elections. On issues such as fiscal policy and welfare, Labour and other European centre-left parties have tried to beat centre-right parties on their home turf. As a consequence, voters have shifted their position to the right as well. “Swabian housewives”, “maxed-out credit cards” and “scroungers” have become prominent ways to think about these policy areas. The dominance of these centre-right narratives limits the transformative power of the left.
The centre left, not just in the UK but across Europe, is at a crossroads. There appears to be no intellectual vision for progressive governance in the 21st century. How can an underfunded public realm be revived in an economy that is struggling to produce growth? How should social democracy be achieved in an ageing society where so much spending must be directed at elderly people? How do we tackle fundamental inequalities of wealth, intersecting with intergenerational justice and lack of adequate housing? What does a socially and environmentally just transition to a green economy look like? Neither Starmer and the Labour party, nor Scholz and the SPD have tried to give an encompassing answer to these questions. There is still time for the former to learn from the latter’s mistakes. Otherwise, Starmer might emulate not just Scholz’s electoral success but his subsequent failure, too.
Tarik Abou-Chadi is associate professor in European politics at the University of Oxford. Tom O’Grady is associate professor in political science at UCL
