Is Keir Starmer really Morgan McSweeney’s puppet?

Every government has its éminence grise.  The quiet, ruthless man (or occasional woman) operates in the shadows, only to be eventually outed when the boys and girls in the backroom fall out among themselves or when someone pens a memoir. Think Peter Mandelson, Nick Timothy, Fiona Hill and Dominic Cummings.

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The authors of Get In, both lobby journalists, have produced a detailed insider account of the rise of Keir Starmer, as seen through the eyes of those inhabitants of the political underworld whose names rarely surface in the public prints. In this case, the focus is on one alleged strategic genius, a man in his late forties with the memorable name of Morgan McSweeney, referred to throughout by the somewhat sinister moniker of ‘the Irishman’. These days the Irishman is the head of the prime minister’s office and can be seen marching up Downing Street on his way to work. He was not always so visible.

McSweeney, who spent several months working on an Israeli kibbutz, cut his teeth in the byzantine politics of the London borough of Lambeth, then under the rule of Red Ted Knight, and later in Dagenham at a time when the British National Party was on the rise. In each case he concluded that Labour was losing touch with its natural electorate and resolved to do something about it. To this end, he founded an organisation called Labour Together. Despite its anodyne name, it was, say the authors, ‘a conspiracy… Even the name was a lie. Its mission was division.’  

Funded partly by the Jewish businessman and pro-Israel lobbyist Sir Trevor Chinn, it first set about destroying the influential online Corbyn fanzine theCanary by persuading advertisers to withdraw.