The Downing Street Squatters
The grim spectacle of a government barricaded in Downing Street, terrified of its own people.
There is an interesting fiction at the heart of British politics, one that the current occupants of Downing Street are clinging to like a drunkard to a lamppost. It is the idea that just because something is legal, it is legitimate.
Technically, constitutionally, Keir Starmer—or whichever technocrat wins the current game of musical chairs—does not need to call an election. They have a majority in the House of Commons. They can pass laws. They can sit in the big chair and order the nuclear submarines around. The letter of the law is on their side.
But the spirit of the constitution? They took that out back and shot it months ago.
If you ever needed proof that the British political establishment views the state as its private plaything, look no further than the latest documents unearthed from the Epstein files. We aren’t just talking about awkward friendships or inappropriate dinners anymore; we are looking at what appears to be the cold-blooded sale of national secrets. While the rest of us were watching our pensions evaporate and our homes go under during the 2008/9 financial crisis, Peter Mandelson was apparently playing concierge to a convicted paedophile.
The emails released this week are sickening. In 2009, while serving as Business Secretary, Mandelson was reportedly being lobbied by Epstein to lean on the Treasury to reduce taxes on bankers’ bonuses. Mandelson’s response? A breezy, ‘Treasury digging in but I’m on the case.’ Think about that. While the public was baying for the heads of the bankers who broke the world, the so-called Prince of Darkness was working behind the scenes for a monster to protect those very bonuses.
It gets worse. In 2010, Mandelson allegedly gave Epstein advanced notice of a £500 billion EU bailout of the euro. That is market-sensitive information that could make a financier millions in minutes. And where was Mandelson when he was feeding this to Epstein? ‘Just leaving Number 10, will call’, he replied. He was walking out of the seat of British power and straight onto the phone with a sex offender. This is the honour our system relies on—one that the current occupants simply do not possess as they hide behind the dusty conventions of a system designed for gentlemen.
This brings us back to the current occupant of Number 10. Keir Starmer has spent the last week doing his best impression of a man who’s just discovered his house is built on a graveyard. He recently stood before the cameras and offered a performance of authentic outrage, telling the victims of Epstein: ‘I am sorry... sorry for having believed Mandelson’s lies and appointed him.’ It’s a touching sentiment, Keir, but it’s a bit like an arsonist apologising for the heat. You are the man who waved away vetting processes to ensure Mandelson got that US Ambassador gig in the first place. You ignored the warnings because he was one of the gang.
I’ve heard, in the past couple of days, somebody go as far as saying that we are currently living through a constitutional obscenity. And it’s hard to say otherwise, really. In the 2024 election, Labour won with a vote share of just 33.7% on a 60% turnout. Do the math: that means 80% of the population did not vote for this government. You are governing with the consent of one-fifth of the country, and even that is vanishing. We have a government polling at 19.2%, and a Prime Minister with an approval rating of -54, a number so low it defies the laws of political physics. With Reform UK now leading the polls at 31% and Labour collapsing, your landslide has turned into a sinkhole.
The danger here isn’t just that they are unpopular. It’s that they are creating a zombie parliament.
The House of Commons is supposed to be a mirror of the nation. Right now, it would be fair to say that it appears to be more of a funhouse mirror. You have a Labour Party holding a massive majority of seats, wielding absolute legislative power, while representing less than a fifth of the country. With Reform UK sitting at 31% and Labour trailing in second or even third place, this disconnect could be considered dangerous. It breaks the fundamental contract of consent that democracy relies on. When the gap between the governors and the governed becomes this wide, the government ceases to be a representative body and starts to look slightly more like an occupying force.
And, let’s be honest, for a moment… The scramble to replace Starmer with Wes Streeting or Angela Rayner is a farce. Starmer is now desperately calling for Mandelson to be stripped of his peerage, a classic bit of political theatre designed to make him look like a man of action rather than the man who handed Mandelson the keys to the embassy.
Streeting, who I believe has done well managing the NHS in recent months, is the metropolitan manager who thinks a fresh coat of PR paint will hide the rot. Rayner, on the other hand, is the performative authentic who sat at the Cabinet table while these secrets were being guarded. Neither of them has the moral authority to lead. Installing either of them without an election wouldn’t bring stability; it would more likely be labelled a palace coup. And, truly, if any of these politicos actually believed in the democracy they spend so much time ‘protecting’ from our dangerous speech, they would recognise that their time is up.
If either of them takes the keys to Number 10 without facing the public, they run the risk of being considered a squatter, just as many post-Cameron Tory PMs were.
Strictly speaking, the King could intervene. Under the Dissolution and Calling of Parliament Act 2022, the royal prerogative to dissolve Parliament was restored. Theoretically, if a government loses the ability to govern or the confidence of the people so spectacularly that the country becomes ungovernable, the Monarch could step in. But we know he won’t. The palace is terrified of being seen as political, even when the alternative is watching the democratic fabric of the country being shredded by a group of people who couldn’t win a raffle in their own constituencies.
They will argue, of course, that we vote for parties, not presidents. It’s the standard A-level politics student defence. But let’s be real. The mandate Starmer won in 2024, a mandate based on integrity, change, and service, has evaporated. It was sold on a prospectus that turned out to be false. To claim that a new leader can simply inherit that shattered mandate and carry on as if nothing has happened is an insult to our intelligence.
A human constitution, one that actually respected the people it governs, would demand a reset. It would recognise that when the floor falls out from under you, you don’t keep dancing on the beams. You go back to the people and ask: ‘Do you still want us?’
But they won’t do that. Why? Because they know the answer.
They know that a majority of the public (55% as of 4 February) is itching to deliver a verdict that would make the 2024 result look like a minor stumble. And so, we are left with this grim spectacle: a government protected by the letter of the law, but stripped of all democratic soul, barricaded in Downing Street, terrified of the very people they claim to serve. The only decent thing left for a new leader to do is to drive to the Palace and call a general election.