From the moment that Emmanuel Macron won his first election as French President in 2017, through all the Brexit debate, many British pro-Europeans on the left and right expressed their heartfelt desire to see a Macron-like figure emerge in the UK. The hope was for a charismatic centrist who could break the old Tory/Labour duopoly, leading an insurgent party that would provide voters with an alternative to either Brexiteers or Corbynism.
Discussion of this kind has withered on the vine as, first, Brexit happened, leading many to give up on averting the catastrophe, and second, Labour moved more and more towards the centre.
Yet, what if the centrist dream has been realised? What if the British Macron they longed for is poised to take power at last?
What if his name is Keir Starmer?
While it may be a surprising comparison, they are some important similarities between the two men.
For instance, both Macron and Starmer place a heavy emphasis on the role of public services reform over increased funding as the primary route to achieving better outcomes. In his presidency, Macron has sought to relax restrictions on working hours for healthcare workers, adapt hospital management and change the basis on which hospitals receive funding. He also brought back maths as a core subject for older students in schools and is trialling the use of school uniforms to see if it improves behaviour. Meanwhile, Starmer and his shadow cabinet team regularly go on the record to say that while they would like to see more money going into health and education, reforms are essential to address what they see as the route cause of many problems, even arguing that the reforms are more important than the money.
In addition, Macron and Starmer are both given over to embracing the symbols of patriotism. Starmer has made a big deal out of bringing the British flag into Labour’s imagery, including leaflets, party banners and the party membership cards (sometimes pushing past internal criticism). He does not hesitate to express his admiration for national symbols like the monarchy or the football team. Macron, although known internationally as the great European, is also prone to deploying the national flag to make a point. He often frames his arguments in terms of national sovereignty and the need to defend French values. He went so far as to change the colour of the national flag, whose blue third had been switched to a distinctly EU-flag tone in 1976, and was reverted back to the original by Macron in 2020.
And as we’ve mentioned the EU flag, it should be noted that Macron and Starmer are both instinctive pro-Europeans. In Macron’s case this is self-evident, given the extent to which the French leader has pushed for more European integration and greater EU-level funding to execute his vision of ‘European autonomy’. Indeed, we can expect nothing less from the leader of a country which has often been sceptical of the trans-Atlantic alliance and which views capabilities independent of Washington as simple good sense. These days, Starmer is a less obvious candidate for the title of devoted European as he has embraced the need to ‘make Brexit work’. Yet whether we agree with the strategy or not, it is highly likely that Starmer’s pivot on Brexit is driven by pragmatism more than passion. The man who campaigned to Remain and then fought for a second referendum to try and prevent Brexit cannot be said to be anti-EU. Indeed, should a vote in favour of rejoining the EU ever come, it is hard to imagine that Starmer would be upset by such a result.
That spirit of pragmatism is also largely what defines the worldview of the French president and the Labour leader. Both men aspire to a non-ideological approach to politics, which eschews whether an idea comes from left or right in favour of judging it simply by whether it works. Macron is a fan of saying that there should be no taboos in France’s policy debates, with all options on the table and himself willing to listen to any argument, periodically meeting with opposition party leaders to sound out their views on especially critical issues (most recently on French policy towards Ukraine). Starmer does not go so far in openly deriding the idea of left and right – after all, he must still lead a party that firmly places itself on the left. Yet few things are so tricky to pin down as ‘Starmerism’ and it is evident that Starmer has little interest in political labels or internal party factions. He embodies a level of ‘apolitical politics’ that runs so deep, most people’s criticism is that they are not sure what exactly he believes in the first place.
Of course, the two politicians are not identical. For instance, Macron has not shied away from putting forwards big investment plans when he has felt it necessary. By contrast, Starmer has tended to tone down and pull back from spending commitments. Yet even this may shift once Starmer is actually in power and not simply campaigning as an opposition leader.
If nothing else, the list of similarities is a reminder that the comparison with Joe Biden, which Washington-obsessed Westminster journalists are so fond of, may not be the best one. ‘Bidenonomics’ exists in a particular political and economic environment that has little to do with the UK’s situation. France, on the other hand, is a much more similar country in terms of size, demographics, political values and economic conditions. If we wish to look abroad in order to see a glimpse of our future, the answer may be closer than we think.