Can Labour Win Birmingham Back?
Labour can win Birmingham back.
There. I’ve said it.
Indeed, if you locked a dozen Birmingham residents in a room with a kettle, a packet of Hobnobs and a flip chart, they would probably produce a reasonably accurate recovery plan by lunchtime. Cleaner streets. Safer neighbourhoods. Better housing. Functioning services. More visible leadership. A council that occasionally gives the impression of being in charge. The Greens know this. Reform knows this. The Liberal Democrats know this. The independents know this. Labour knows this. The route back is hardly hidden. The question is whether the people who need to walk down it are willing to do so.
The recent elections were fascinating because they exposed something deeper than a simple swing from one party to another. If Labour had only lost white working-class voters, the explanation would be relatively straightforward. If Labour had only lost support in Asian communities, there would be another explanation. If Labour had only lost middle-class liberals to the Greens, there would be yet another. But Birmingham did something far more interesting. Different communities, with different histories, faiths, cultures and backgrounds, all started expressing versions of the same frustration. The retired Jaguar worker in Castle Bromwich, the self-employed businessman in Small Heath, the Black churchgoer in Handsworth, the family in Kingstanding, the shopkeeper in Sparkbrook, the professional couple in Sutton Coldfield and the pensioner in Yardley all looked around and increasingly concluded that the city was not improving.
That matters because it blows a hole in the lazy explanations. Birmingham’s voters are not one thing. They are not a tribe. They are not a demographic category. They are a collection of communities that often disagree with one another. Yet many of them appear to have reached remarkably similar conclusions about the performance of the city. The pothole does not care whether you are white, Black or Asian, a lone female lesbian or a gay male. The fly-tip is blissfully indifferent to your religion. The missed bin collection has no interest whatsoever in your politics. Declining neighbourhood standards are among the most equal opportunities experiences in modern Birmingham.
And this is where I think Labour’s problem has been misunderstood. The traditional class argument no longer fully explains what is happening. This is not simply a story of rich versus poor or of aristocrats versus workers. Birmingham has developed its own political and managerial class. Many are decent people. Many are hardworking. Many entered public life with entirely honourable intentions. Yet over time they developed their own language, assumptions and priorities. They attended the same meetings, spoke at the same conferences, sat on the same panels and gradually became more comfortable talking to one another than listening to the people they claimed to represent. The result is a political culture which often appears genuinely bewildered when ordinary residents become angry about things that ordinary residents have been angry about for years.
What makes Birmingham particularly interesting is that this frustration cuts across racial and cultural lines. A self-employed Pakistani businessman in Small Heath may have more in common with a self-employed white electrician in Yardley than either has with a political adviser in Westminster. A Black churchgoer in Handsworth may share concerns about neighbourhood standards, education, family and public safety with a Sikh business owner in Hall Green or a retired factory worker in Castle Bromwich. Different cultures. Different experiences. Different histories. Yet often remarkably similar expectations of local government. They want a city that works.
For years Labour’s electoral strength rested on the assumption that these different communities would remain within a broad coalition. Increasingly that coalition has fractured. Not because voters suddenly became Green, Reform or independent overnight. Rather because many concluded that the people running Birmingham had become detached from everyday experience. Residents were discussing litter, fly-tipping, anti-social behaviour, housing, road maintenance and local services. Too often Labour appeared to be discussing something else.
The reactions to Labour’s defeat were therefore revealing. Of Birmingham’s Labour MPs, Shabana Mahmood, our very own Home Secretary, emerged with the greatest credit. Her response was refreshingly straightforward. The verdict, she said, was on Labour, not the voters. No excuses. No elaborate theories. No suggestion that Birmingham had somehow misunderstood the brilliance of its political masters. It was the response of somebody who appeared to understand that being punched squarely on the nose by the electorate should probably lead to a period of reflection.
Then there was what I have affectionately christened “On Message Al”. Al , MP for Selly Oak or maybe “action Al”, he responded exactly as one might expect a disciplined politician to respond. Labour needed better delivery. Policies needed work. Campaigning needed work. Everything was calm, sensible and reassuring. The difficulty is that every governing party in history has discovered a sudden enthusiasm for better delivery immediately after voters have punished it for poor delivery. One is left wondering whether Birmingham wants harder or different.
Liam Byrne’s, he was MP for Hodge Hill but it’s got a much longer name now, his response was perhaps the most revealing of all. Whilst large parts of Birmingham were discussing litter, anti-social behaviour, housing and public services, Liam was discussing the supply side of populism at the London School of Economics. Now I have no doubt whatsoever that the supply side of populism is a fascinating subject. I am equally certain that a resident standing beside a mountain of fly-tipped rubbish might prefer the council to remove the mattress before commissioning the seminar. Byrne’s response perfectly captures a criticism increasingly levelled at Labour. Faced with a practical problem, its instinct is often to produce a theory.
And then there was Paulette Hamilton, MP for Erdington. Birmingham Labour had just suffered the political equivalent of falling down a flight of stairs whilst carrying a tray of drinks. One might have expected a period of soul-searching. Instead the conversation drifted back towards leadership, representation and internal Labour matters. Important subjects, certainly. Yet one could almost hear Birmingham’s voters collectively suppressing a yawn. The electorate had spent election day discussing Birmingham. Labour appeared determined to resume discussing Labour.
What happened next may be the most revealing thing of all. Having been hammered in a democratic fist fight, Labour’s first visible act was not a period of public reflection but the selection of a new group leader, not election but a selection by a faceless few. This, followed by social media applause from many of the same people who had just overseen the defeat. Perfectly democratic, was it? Perfectly legitimate, maybe! And it did and dose raise an awkward question. If Labour’s analysis of the election is that fundamental change is required, why does so much of the post-election behaviour look exactly the same as the pre-election behaviour?
And that brings us back to the central question. Can Labour win Birmingham back?
Absolutely.
The Greens are not dominant. Reform is not dominant. The Liberal Democrats are not dominant. The independents are influential but fragmented. Birmingham remains politically fluid. The electoral arithmetic is not impossible.
Labour’s obstacle is not Reform. Labour’s obstacle is not the Greens. Labour’s obstacle is not the Liberal Democrats or the independents.
Labour’s obstacle is Labour.
The party already possesses the instruction manual for recovery. It is written on every litter-strewn pavement in Handsworth, every neglected shopping parade in Small Heath, every frustrated conversation in a Kingstanding taxi, every complaint heard in a Yardley pub, every discussion in a Sutton Coldfield café, every mosque, church and community centre across the city. The message is not complicated. Residents want competence. They want pride restored to their neighbourhoods. They want a council that does things rather than explains why things have not been done.
The question is not whether Labour can read the instruction manual.
The question is whether it genuinely wishes to.
Because if the people who lost Birmingham remain convinced that they were fundamentally right all along, then the road back may prove considerably longer than they currently imagine.