Burnham, Manchester City and the Political Economy of Football

The leaked verdict declaring Manchester City guilty on nearly all of the 115 Premier League financial charges has shaken Britain’s political establishment. This isn’t because the ruling elite opposes financial misconduct since Britain’s state is rooted in it, but because the case starkly highlights the close ties between sovereign wealth, football, and the Labour government led by Andy Burnham. Soon after the reports surfaced, Burnham personally stepped in to warn against “jumping to conclusions,” a move never before seen in English football history. A sitting prime minister chose to defend one of the world’s wealthiest ruling families, rather than support fans unable to afford their own team or uphold the fairness of the sport.

This episode is not a one-off incident but a natural outcome of the Labour Party’s political path under Keir Starmer and Burnham. It now openly and without shame prioritises financial capital, the arms industry, and the Gulf monarchies, whose sovereign wealth funds are vital to Britain’s economy. The Manchester City controversy highlights a broader reality: football has evolved into an asset class, a tool for geopolitical strategy, and a means of extracting value from working-class communities. The Labour government is not an impartial observer in this process; it actively participates.

The leaked Manchester City ruling, based on emails uncovered via the Football Leaks archive, exposes a consistent pattern of disguising owner funding as sponsorship income over nearly ten years. These weren’t just isolated incidents but part of the club’s operational approach, acting almost as an extension of Abu Dhabi’s state machinery. A wealthy individual doesn’t just own Manchester City; a sovereign wealth fund led by a senior UAE government official does. This financial tactic aligns with the geopolitical aims of a Gulf monarchy, which seeks soft power, legitimacy, and influence in Britain.

Burnham’s action must be viewed in this context. His political journey has been rooted in the pro-capitalist Labour tradition. As a minister under Tony Blair and Gordon Brown, he implemented policies that increased Britain’s reliance on foreign capital and solidified the City of London as a global financial hub. His accession to the premiership in July 2026 did not mark a departure from Starmerism but continued it. Following significant losses in local elections and resulting widespread hostility, Burnham’s rise was aimed at personnel change to manage unrest rather than policy change.

The link between Labour and Gulf capital is fundamentally structural, not incidental. Sovereign wealth funds from Abu Dhabi, Qatar, and Saudi Arabia hold large stakes in British infrastructure, real estate, energy, and cultural sectors. Manchester City is just one part of this broader network. When Emirati officials reportedly voiced concern about the Premier League charges, they were not advocating for a football team but protecting a key strategic asset. Burnham’s response was therefore not about “fairness” or “due process.” It was about protecting a geopolitical partnership that Labour considers essential to Britain’s economic model.

Football’s evolution under neoliberalism reflects broader changes in British society. Originally rooted in working-class communities, the sport has been transformed into a luxury asset aimed at global investors. Stadiums now serve as consumption spaces; ticket prices have risen sharply; speculative development has reshaped local areas; and fans are increasingly seen as customers. The Manchester City case highlights these dynamics, illustrating how sovereign wealth, political influence, and regulatory capture have driven this change.

The Leaked Verdict and the Prime Minister’s Intervention

The leaked ruling by the independent commission reportedly found Manchester City guilty of disguising owner funding as sponsorship income over nine seasons. Initially revealed through internal emails published by Der Spiegel in 2018, these allegations exposed a deliberate effort to bypass the Premier League’s Profit and Sustainability Rules. This was not mere clerical error or technical mistake but a calculated scheme to launder sovereign wealth into football’s financial framework. Without whistleblowing, the mechanisms behind these capital flows would have remained hidden. The case exists solely because someone exposed what the Premier League, the club, and the British government preferred to keep secret.

Burnham responded quickly and with a strong political tone. While at the United Nations General Assembly in New York, he advised the public not to “rush to draw conclusions” about City losing titles or facing sanctions. His comment was unusual because prime ministers rarely discuss ongoing disciplinary issues, especially those involving a club owned by a foreign government. Burnham’s statement aligned with Manchester City’s PR message: that the process is disputed, people should wait, and the owners have benefited Manchester. This message was aimed not at supporters or the sport’s integrity but at Abu Dhabi.

Downing Street later tried to ease the criticism, claiming that “no one is above the rules.” However, the political message had already been conveyed. The prime minister positioned himself between the Premier League and the sovereign wealth fund backing Manchester City. This move exposed a broader reality of Britain’s political economy: the British state does not control Gulf capital; it embraces it.

Burnham’s intervention must be viewed as part of the broader trajectory of the Labour Party under Keir Starmer and now Burnham himself. Labour consistently advocates for the interests of finance capital, the arms industry, and the Gulf monarchies, whose sovereign wealth funds have become fundamental to Britain’s economy. Although the party’s rhetoric may evolve, shifting from Starmer’s managerial technocracy to Burnham’s softer left tone, the core class alignment remains unchanged. Labour’s role is to maintain stability within a system where foreign capital, especially from the Gulf, is deeply integrated into infrastructure, real estate, energy, and cultural sectors. Football is one of the most visible arenas where this relationship manifests.

Manchester City functions as more than just a football club; it serves as a tool for Abu Dhabi’s geopolitical ambitions. Its ownership is closely tied to the political goals of a Gulf monarchy aiming for soft power, legitimacy, and influence in Britain; when Premier League allegations threatened these interests, the British government responded not officially, but symbolically, through the prime minister’s public warnings. Such symbolic actions matter; they signal to regulators, investors, and foreign entities where political authority lies.

Burnham’s comments highlight a broader ideological change in football. Originally a working-class sport deeply tied to local communities, it has now become a financial asset for oligarchs, private equity, and sovereign wealth funds. Clubs have shifted from social institutions to tools for capital growth and geopolitical influence. Agencies like the Premier League act more as managers of a global entertainment industry than as protectors of integrity. Given this landscape, Burnham’s stance is expected, fitting within a political system where football is subordinate to capital interests.

The leaked verdict unveils the underlying processes of that order. It demonstrates how sovereign wealth influences British football, highlights the alignment of political authority with foreign capital, and shows how the Labour government acts to protect these interests. Burnham’s intervention was not an error but a clear sign of allegiance. It indicates that when supporters’ and communities’ interests conflict with those of capital, Labour consistently prioritises capital.

Burnham’s Political Lineage: The “Soft Left” Illusion

Burnham’s supporters in the media and Labour bureaucracy have long depicted him as the “soft left” alternative to Starmer. This label is meaningless, serving as a branding tool that disguises Labour’s right-wing, pro-capitalist policies by emphasising his more approachable, civic-minded, and regionally connected image. However, Burnham’s political trajectory has been entirely shaped within the Labour tradition that embraced neoliberalism, aligned with the City of London, and subordinated foreign policy to Washington’s strategic interests. As a minister under Tony Blair and Gordon Brown, he helped implement policies that reinforced Britain’s position as the City’s political ally and Washington’s junior partner in the Middle East. His political development was not in opposition to Blairism, but within it.

The idea of Burnham as a “soft left” figure is based on selective memory. During his time in government, he oversaw the growth of private finance initiatives, the expansion of market roles in public services, and Britain’s increased involvement in US-led military actions. He did not oppose these policies; he carried them out. His later shift to a mayoral candidate promoting Manchester’s interests did not signal a departure from his earlier politics, but a change in focus. Burnham’s regional rhetoric emphasising fairness, civic pride, and local identity masked the reality that his governing approach remained rooted in the same pro-market, pro-security framework that characterised New Labour.

His ascension to the premiership in July 2026 was a seamless transition, not a break. Starmer’s government faced intense opposition after disastrous local elections in May, during which Labour lost over 1,000 council seats. This defeat highlighted widespread public anger towards a government that enforced austerity, increased military involvement abroad, and favoured corporate interests domestically. Burnham’s appointment was a personnel change meant to manage unrest, not change policy. It was a strategic move by the Labour leadership to maintain its political agenda while shifting public frustration to a new figurehead.

Under Burnham, the Labour Party continues to follow the same fundamental priorities as under Starmer: maintaining fiscal discipline, aligning geopolitically with the US, and fostering strategic ties with Gulf monarchies, whose sovereign wealth funds are integral to Britain’s economy. Burnham’s comments on Manchester City align with this ongoing approach. His cautious comments about “jumping to conclusions” were not about procedural fairness but served as political signals. They reassured Abu Dhabi that the British government would protect its relationship, which it sees as economically and strategically crucial, from the disruptions of a Premier League disciplinary process.

Supporters of Burnham argue his intervention was meant only to prevent speculation. However, prime ministers usually avoid commenting on ongoing disciplinary matters, especially when they involve a club owned by a foreign state. Burnham’s comments mirrored Manchester City’s official stance: they claim the process is disputed, ask for patience, and praise the owners for their positive impact on Manchester. This similarity was intentional, reflecting the close ties between Labour and Gulf investment, a relationship Burnham has developed over his political career.

The Manchester City incident exposes the superficial nature of the “soft left” label. Burnham’s politics are not a gentler form of Starmerism; they are essentially Starmerism with a different tone. His leadership signifies continuity rather than change. The Labour government continues to serve the interests of the ruling class, endorsing austerity domestically, militarism internationally, and safeguarding the sovereign wealth interests ingrained in British society. Burnham’s comments on Manchester City did not show a lapse in judgment; they revealed his true political role: a manager of the capitalist state, safeguarding its alliances and priorities against opposition from supporters, communities, or the working class.

Sovereign Wealth and the British State

To understand Burnham’s defence of Manchester City, it’s essential to grasp the political economy of Britain’s sovereign wealth. Abu Dhabi United Group, the entity through which Sheikh Mansour owns Manchester City, is not a typical private investor; it’s a state instrument. Mansour serves as the UAE’s deputy prime minister and federation vice-president. Since 2007, he has led the country’s sovereign wealth fund, a massive financial network investing in British real estate, infrastructure, logistics, energy, and cultural assets. Manchester City is the most prominent and politically sensitive part of this investment network.

The leaked Premier League decision poses implications beyond just a football club. It endangers a strategic alliance between Britain and one of the world’s key oil monarchies. Bloomberg and other sources report that Emirati officials voiced their concerns to British counterparts regarding the upcoming charges. The message was clear: take action against the club, and you threaten the interests of the state backing it. In a Britain where Gulf capital has significant investments in London’s skyline, vital infrastructure, and cultural and educational institutions, this is a sensitive issue that the political leaders do not take lightly. Over the past twenty years, the UK has worked to embed Gulf sovereign wealth into its economic fabric, and it is unlikely to risk that relationship over a football disciplinary matter.

Burnham’s record clearly illustrates this connection. As Greater Manchester’s mayor, he promised to advocate for Manchester City to get “fair and consistent treatment” from the Premier League, echoing the club’s grievances about regulatory oversight. His language was not that of an impartial civic figure, but of a politician siding with a foreign-owned football entity closely linked to the local political economy.

When Burnham met UAE President Mohamed bin Zayed in July, Downing Street released a statement thanking his country for its investment in Manchester. The tone was respectful, nearly pleading. It portrayed Gulf capital not as a political force with strategic goals but as a kind benefactor whose generosity had revitalised the city. This illustrates the ideological role of sovereign wealth in Britain: to appear as philanthropy while serving as a form of geopolitical influence.

Burnham’s remarks on human rights follow a consistent logic. When asked about the Emirates’ record, he said he could judge only what he observes in Manchester and how the owners manage the club. He suggested human rights were a matter for governments to address “at a different level.” Now that he oversees that government, this “different level” has seemingly vanished. His approach to the Manchester City case avoided mentioning human rights, democratic accountability, or the political aspects of sovereign wealth. Instead, he advised caution against “jumping to conclusions,” echoing the same sentiments. club’s own PR line and signalling to Abu Dhabi that the British government would not allow a Premier League process to destabilise a strategic partnership.

This is the political economy of sovereign wealth in Britain: Gulf monarchies invest significantly in real estate, infrastructure, and cultural institutions. British governments foster these relationships as avenues for capital, geopolitical strategy, and urban redevelopment after industrial decline. Football clubs, like Manchester City, serve as tools of soft power, branding, and influence. Manchester City exemplifies how sovereign wealth functions within British society, not as an exception but as a leading example.

Burnham’s defence of the club should be seen not as a personal peculiarity or a fleeting mistake, but as a reflection of Labour’s core priorities. The party consistently supports austerity policies domestically, promotes militarism internationally, and aims to safeguard foreign capital integrated into Britain’s economic system. When supporters’ and local communities’ needs conflict with those of sovereign wealth, Labour consistently favours sovereign wealth. Burnham’s stance on Manchester City merely highlighted this underlying preference.

Regeneration as Class Policy

The defenders of Manchester City’s ownership frequently cite the “regeneration” of east Manchester as proof of their benevolence. The reality is more prosaic. The Manchester Life partnership between Manchester City Council and Abu Dhabi United Group built luxury flats in Ancoats and New Islington, delivering no affordable housing. Working‑class families watched rents rise around them while Gulf capital collected the returns.

This is not regeneration. It is class restructuring. It is the transformation of working‑class neighbourhoods into investment zones for foreign wealth. Burnham’s praise for this model reveals his political priorities: capital first, community second.

Culture Secretary Lisa Nandy offered a more critical note, insisting that “investors do not set the rules of the game.” But she took care to say her remarks were not aimed at City’s owners specifically. Her criticism was deliberately empty. The prime minister’s position mattered.

 Football as an Instrument of Capital

Football originated in working-class communities, rooted in local factories, mines, and shipyards, and served as a form of collective leisure organised by workers and rooted in local pride. Over the last thirty years, this connection has faded. The sport is now often viewed as an asset for oligarchs, private equity, and sovereign wealth funds. Clubs have shifted from civic institutions to financial assets, geopolitical tools, and global brands. Manchester City exemplifies this shift perfectly. Today, it’s more than a club; it serves as a tool of Abu Dhabi’s foreign policy, helping improve the Gulf monarchy’s image and build influence and strategic ties in the West.

The Premier League inherently cannot regulate itself effectively. It functions more as a cartel of billionaires than as a guardian of sporting integrity. Its rules aim to safeguard the league’s commercial value rather than diminish the influence of wealth. League owners, comprising American private equity, Gulf sovereign wealth, Russian petro-capital, and multinational conglomerates, lack genuine interest in oversight that challenges their interests. They seek stability, predictability, and the facade of fairness, rather than fairness itself. Although the Independent Football Regulator was launched amid much publicity, it has already recognised « serious issues »notably concerning Manchester City’s ownership by Abu Dhabi United Group. Still, Burnham’s focus was not on defending the regulator or upholding sport’s integrity. His main concern was to reassure the league’s owners.

This is the political economy of football in 2026. Sovereign wealth funds influence club decisions; governments step in to support geopolitical allies; supporters face higher prices; working-class areas are pushed out; and the sport turns into a venue for capital accumulation. Stadiums are redesigned as luxury zones. Ticket costs exceed what ordinary fans can afford. Broadcast rights are divided among various subscription services, each profiting from fans. Local neighborhoods change through speculative development tied to club ownership. Football becomes a tool for urban gentrification instead of fostering community growth.

Manchester City’s ownership exemplifies this shift. Abu Dhabi United Group’s investment in east Manchester, widely hailed as “regeneration”, has led to luxury apartments, higher rents, and the displacement of working-class residents. The Manchester Life partnership between the council and the sovereign wealth fund failed to provide affordable housing, instead prioritising financial returns. The club’s success on the field is closely linked to this larger effort: transforming Manchester into a display of Gulf capital, a city whose leadership promotes foreign investment while overlooking its social impact.

Burnham’s response to the leaked verdict should be viewed in this context. His cautious comments were clearly political, indicating to Abu Dhabi that the British government wouldn’t permit a disciplinary process against the Premier League to threaten strategic ties. They also conveyed to the Premier League that restraint was expected, and to supporters that their concerns took a backseat to economic interests. Burnham’s support for Manchester City wasn’t a standalone act but a broader statement of allegiance to the political economy now shaping football.

The way the game has changed reflects broader shifts in British society. Public services have become financialized, housing has turned into a commodity, infrastructure has been privatized, and political power now aligns with both domestic and international capital. Football exemplifies this process as one of the most visible arenas. The Manchester City case reveals the underlying mechanisms: sovereign wealth serving as geopolitical leverage, regulatory agencies prioritizing commercial interests, and governments acting to protect elite benefits.

Labour’s Programme: A Government for Capital

Under Starmer and now Burnham, Labour governs for the banks, the arms manufacturers, and the oil monarchies. The party’s factions- left, right, or “soft left” offer no alternative. They differ only in tone, not in substance. The Labour left has abandoned any pretence of socialist politics, retreating into moral appeals and parliamentary manoeuvres. The right governs openly for capital. Burnham sits comfortably between them, a figure whose political identity is defined by managerialism, technocracy, and loyalty to the state.

The Manchester City affair reveals the truth: Labour will not challenge sovereign wealth ownership of football clubs. It will not confront the City of London. It will not oppose the geopolitical interests of the Gulf monarchies. It will not defend working‑class communities against displacement. It will not return football to supporters.

A Programme for the Working Class

The game can only be returned to those who play and watch it by taking the major clubs out of private and sovereign ownership and placing them under democratic control by supporters and workers. This is not a utopian demand. It is a practical necessity. Football cannot be regulated while it remains an asset class. It cannot be reformed while oligarchs and monarchies own it. It cannot be saved while it is subordinated to capital.

Such a programme is inseparable from the fight for an independent socialist movement of the working class against Labour and the capitalist order it defends. The struggle over football is part of the broader struggle against austerity, militarism, and finance capital’s domination of society. Burnham’s intervention over Manchester City warns that the Labour government will defend the ruling class’s interests against the working class, whether in politics, economics, or sport.

The Right Wing Counter Revolution Is Advancing — And Labour Is One of Its Engines

Andy Beckett’s recent article in The Guardian highlights the political crisis facing Britain’s liberal intellectuals. It describes the growth of a reactionary movement opposed to immigration and equality, but fails to explain why it emerged or how to combat it. The article is a lament from a social class that has lost direction, still holding onto outdated beliefs about a political system that is no longer relevant.[1]

Beckett’s depiction of a “right-wing counter-revolution” actually reflects a capitalist system in deep crisis. However, since he refuses to recognise the class roots of this crisis, he replaces analytical understanding with moral outrage. The article considers the rise of the right wing primarily as a cultural anomaly rather than a class problem. Beckett explains that opposition from Reform UK, the Conservatives under Badenoch, and far-right street groups is driven by resistance to “multiculturalism” and “equality.” He references Nigel Farage’s claim that “anti-whiteness is institutionalised into every aspect of public life’ and notes the Conservatives’ pledge to abolish the public sector equality duty.

He sees these shifts as the result of bad ideas spreading or a small elite manipulating public discourse. This is a common misconception among liberals. The growth of the far right is not mainly due to “culture wars.” Instead, it’s fuelled by years of austerity that have impoverished millions, caused real wages to fall, hollowed out public services, intensified imperialist conflicts, and a political elite—Labour included—that fails to provide progressive solutions to the capitalist crisis.

Under these conditions, the ruling class resorts to authoritarianism, nationalism, and xenophobia to redirect social unrest away from itself. The far right is not an external menace but a weapon used by the political establishment. Beckett cannot recognise this because doing so would amount to criticising the entire political system he endorses.

When addressing Becket’s assertion, it’s important to see that Labour isn’t ignoring the right; instead, it’s actively backing it. Becket portrays Labour under Keir Starmer as hesitant, misguided, or excessively cautious. He claims that Labour’s sporadic opposition and overall appeasement have been ineffective, and points out that the party has shown Union flags and adopted stricter immigration policies.

This is a significant distortion. Labour isn’t merely trying to appease the right; it is actively part of the right-wing agenda. Starmer has adopted nationalism and militarism, promised to strengthen borders, supported austerity measures, endorsed the government’s foreign policies—including its alignment with US militarism—and has overseen crackdowns on protests and dissent. Labour even considers reactionary grievances, such as the false notion of a surge in immigration, as legitimate. This isn’t just a strategic mistake—it reflects the party’s fundamental political stance.

Labour’s purpose is to diminish left-wing ideas among the working class and direct dissatisfaction into safe, nationalist, pro-capitalist outlets. The far right advances because Labour has disconnected from the working class. Beckett cannot admit this, as it would mean recognising that Labour is not a defender against reaction but one of its creators.

Beckett’s suggested approach is to revive the spirit of Ken Livingstone’s Greater London Council (1981–86) and imitate Sadiq Khan’s rhetorical stance on diversity. His nostalgia for the GLC and Khan reflects a liberal fantasy and leans toward political escapism. The GLC’s campaigns—like the poster stating “Black people do not cause slums… They are forced to live in them”—were rhetorically striking but primarily focused on municipal reform. They did not challenge the underlying capitalist property relations. Thatcher’s swift abolition of the GLC was because it posed no real threat to the ruling class. Livingstone himself later became a loyal Labour figure, presiding over a London transformed into a playground for finance capital.

Today, Khan’s London stands as one of the most unequal cities globally. While he lauds diversity, the city is primarily driven by global finance, leading to the displacement of working-class areas, the demolition of public housing, and rising social inequality. Reform UK’s poor performance in London does not signify Khan’s success; rather, it highlights the city’s social stratification—its professional-managerial class is deeply connected to global capitalism and shows limited concern for Farage’s economic nationalism. Beckett’s narrow view of London reflects a liberal middle-class perspective that mistakes its social reality for a political strategy.

Certainly, the so-called “right-wing counter-revolution” exists, but Beckett misidentifies what it targets. He cautions that the backlash “rarely stops,” which is true. However, he misunderstands what is being reversed. The actual counter-revolution isn’t directed at “multiculturalism” or the 2010 Equality Act. Instead, it opposes the social advancements achieved by the working class after the war, including the NHS, social housing, free education, secure jobs, trade union rights, and the welfare state.

Both Conservative and Labour administrations have consistently eroded these advances. The Equality Act, lauded by Beckett as a major achievement, was enacted under a Labour government that also engaged in imperialist wars and broadened surveillance. The liberal emphasis on “diversity” masks the underlying class issues: the working class—regardless of ethnicity—is being pushed into poverty, instability, and political exclusion.

Britain is not facing a sudden “backlash” against equality or multiculturalism. Instead, it is experiencing the deliberate creation of reaction by a ruling class that has exhausted all democratic and reformist options for addressing the capitalist crisis. The far right is not an outsider insurgent threatening the political system; rather, it is a distorted mirror of the establishment, created to divert public anger away from the true causes of social suffering.

For over ten years, since the Brexit referendum exposed the contradictions within British capitalism, the political elite has increasingly turned to nationalism, xenophobia, and authoritarian measures. Reform UK, the Conservative right, the billionaire media, and various online reactionaries are not separate entities. They serve as the ideological fighters for a system that no longer maintains power through consent.

Nigel Farage’s claim that Britain is a “two-tier state against white people” goes beyond fringe rhetoric and illustrates a wider political strategy: directing anger over declining living standards, overburdened public services, and ongoing conflicts towards minority groups like immigrants, Muslims, and the idea of “wokeness.” The Conservatives’ plans to abolish even the modest public sector equality duty support this approach. Overall, the ruling elite is systematically removing legal and ideological barriers to openly adopt racialised nationalism as official policy.

The small number of Britons holding these opinions is not important. Historically, reactionary minorities have often influenced a fearful bourgeoisie, supported by the media, and they dominate the national debate. Meanwhile, the liberal middle class becomes passive, and the working class faces political marginalisation.

The liberal perspective argues that Labour under Keir Starmer is too timid, too cautious, and excessively eager to appease the right. However, this is a comforting illusion. Labour’s embrace of Union-flag nationalism, tough immigration policies, condemnations of protests, and its proximity to the security forces are not just mistakes but fundamental elements of the party’s identity.

Labour functions as the party representing the interests of the capitalist state. Its main purpose is to quash left-wing movements within the working class and channel social discontent into socially acceptable channels, such as nationalism and pro-imperialist policies. Starmer’s emphasis on “strong borders” and “restoring order” isn’t a right-wing concession but rather the core ideological basis of his administration. This leads to a foreseeable outcome: socially conservative voters, who favour genuine right-wing nationalism, dislike Labour, and liberals, sensing the party’s superficiality, abandon it—meanwhile, the far right gains influence because Labour has inadvertently validated its fundamental ideas.

The right-wing counter-revolution primarily targets the social advances secured by the working class in the 20th century, such as the NHS, social housing, free education, secure jobs, trade union rights, and the welfare state. These achievements have been gradually weakened over decades by both Conservative and Labour governments. The reactionary push now aims to finalise this process by dismantling the political and social structures that have allowed the working class to resist.

Beckett’s optimistic view—that Labour, possibly allied with other “progressive” parties, might stop the right-wing surge—is the last illusion of a political trend that has run its course. The right-wing counter-revolution cannot be halted through better messaging, more confident liberal leaders, or a resurgence of 1980s municipal radicalism.

It requires independent political action by the working class, united internationally around an anti-capitalist, anti-system platform aimed at overthrowing capitalism itself. This crisis is systemic. The far right is merely a symptom, Labour is complicit, and liberalism has run its course. The goal now is to develop revolutionary leadership capable of uniting workers from diverse backgrounds in the fight for socialism.


[1] The right-wing counter-revolution is gaining ground – and Labour’s softly-softly approach won’t stop it- http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2026/jun/17/the-rightwing-counter-revolution-labour-multiculturalism-equality-london 

Your Party: The Return of the Left by Oliver Eagleton, editor, £8.99 Verso Paperback 2025

This book from the Pabloite Verso publications has been rushed out to justify the need for a new reformist type party under conditions of a global crisis of capitalism, a fascist in the White House and the temporary replacement of the Labour Party as the favourite Party of the British bourgeoisie. While the need for a new party is palpable, this is not the one the working class needs.

The book consists of a collection of interviews edited by Oliver Eagleton, of Zarah Sultana MP, Leanne Mohamad, Stop the War co-founder Andrew Murray, Our Bloc author James Schneider, Andrew Feinstein, and former Corbyn speechwriter Alex Nunns.

Oliver Eagleton is an associate editor at the New Left Review (NLR), a Pseudo-Left publication that promotes a middle-class, reformist, and ultimately pro-capitalist perspective. Like all the people interviewed in the book, Eagleton, through his writing, seeks to channel left-wing sentiment into reformist, dead-end political projects like “Your Party” and the Labour Party establishment.

According to the World Socialist Website (WSWS), Eagleton promotes the illusion that genuine social change can be achieved through the parliamentary system and within the framework of the capitalist state, rather than through an independent, international socialist movement of the working class. He is a specialist in obfuscating class Issues by promoting “left-populism” to obscure fundamental class divisions and the necessity of a precise class analysis of society.

Eagleton’s first interview is with Corbyn’s second-in-command, Zarah Sultana. She is a Pseudo-Left “figurehead. Her “socialist” or “anti-fascist” rhetoric is merely a cover for a reformist agenda that ultimately serves capitalist interests. The feud that broke out between her and Corbyn was more about factionalism and a lack of Principles on both sides. It was also over who controls the not inconsiderable £800,000 membership fund, which is still growing.

Like other pseudo-Lefts, she presents her “rotten and spineless Labour ‘left’ colleagues as part of a fighting socialist alternative to Starmer”. Despite her use of rhetoric such as  “class war”, her focus remains within the limits of parliamentary politics and nationalistic frameworks.

Leanne Mohamad has no differences whatsoever with Corbyn or Sultana and has spoken on Pseudo-Left Platforms. She spoke at Jeremy Corbyn’s Peace and Justice Project conference. Like other interviewees, she seeks to subordinate genuine working-class anger into reformist and nationalistic channels. The  WSWS has noted reports of a “bitter rift” within her campaign team, specifically with the Redbridge Community Action Group (RCAG), as evidence of the unprincipled and factional character it attributes to this political current.

Perhaps Corbyn’s most useful ally in this coalition of frauds is Andrew Murray. Murray has used his influence as a leader in the Communist Party of Britain, the Stop the War Coalition (STWC), and the Unite trade union to keep the working class tied to the Labour Party. Murray is a Stalinist and has a long history in the Communist Party of Britain. He has been a long-standing adviser in the Corbyn leadership.

James Schneider, a key figure of the British “left”, co-founder of the grassroots movement Momentum, and former Director of Strategic Communications for Jeremy Corbyn.  Schneider was a founder member of “Your Party. His Momentum movement was instrumental in facilitating Labour’s purge of left-wing members under Corbyn and in helping contain it within the confines of the Labour Party bureaucracy.

Andrew Feinstein’s politics are based on an appeal for a “more moral government” and “human values,” which explicitly rejects a class analysis of society and obscures the fundamental class antagonisms inherent in a capitalist system.

Lastly, Alex Nunns is an author and apologist for Corbynism: Nunns is the author of The Candidate: Jeremy Corbyn’s Improbable Path to Power and the forthcoming Sabotage: The Inside Hit Job That Brought Down Jeremy Corbyn. These books are part of a veritable “cottage industry” of “pseudo-left” post-mortems that fail to provide a genuine class analysis of the movement’s failure,

Eagleton’s fellow pseudo-left organisations and every political scoundrel under the sun have welcomed Your Party. Probably the biggest of these political scoundrels is Tariq Ali. Ali has been intimately involved in the development of “Your Party” and has now joined it, marking the first time he has been a member of a political organisation since 1981. Ali will feel at home in this anti-working-class party. At 81, he still feels he has one more revolutionary movement to betray. He is also still a darling of the pseudo-left media. Recently, he was asked What do you think are the prospects for the left today?

He wrote, “Starmer is dreadful. I’m in no doubt that his policies will create a space that, at the moment, the far right will try to fill. We need to respond. But we can’t simply do what we did in the past the same way. In the 1970s, the Anti-Nazi League and Rock Against Racism were vital, but the world has changed, the situation is different, and we need appropriate responses. It won’t be easy, but you know it wasn’t always easy in the 1960s and 1970s. It took time to build the anti-Vietnam War movement. We were constantly under surveillance and harassment from the state.

Over the last few decades, we have witnessed the growth of dynamic movements such as Stop the War. Today, the struggle around Palestine has brought large numbers into action. The horrors of Gaza, the complicity of the Western governments in the slaughter, and the scale of the resistance movement on the streets will shape a generation. But we need to think about organisational outcomes, establishing networks and rebuilding a progressive political alternative. For the left, the Labour Party is finished. We should encourage the small number of Labour MPS (especially those who had the whip removed) to work with the Independent MPS to offer an alternative vision and voice for the future. We need some home, not necessarily a formal political party, for the 200,000 who left Labour when Corbyn was marginalised and kicked out; a home to those from the Palestine and anti-imperialist movements; a home for the old and new left. I think we face a long rebuilding period; there is no quick fix. But if we sit back and do nothing, things will only get worse.”[1]

Ali, like other pseudo-lefts, has argued that the new Your Party should be like other left-wing populist movements across Europe, such as Podemos, Jean-Luc Mélenchon’s La France Insoumise and Syriza (Greece). However, all these organisations have, in one form or another, betrayed the working class. Syriza (Greece), a coalition of the Radical Left, came to power and subsequently implemented austerity measures. Podemos (Spain) was a political trap for the working class, built by professional pseudo-left activists and academics. La France Insoumise (France): a movement led by Jean-Luc Mélenchon explicitly rejects a class analysis of society, instead relying on populist theories that pit “the working class against the French ruling elite. It obscures fundamental class antagonisms, thereby serving capitalist interests. Despite anti-establishment rhetoric, the LFI ultimately defends the French capitalist state, including its police forces and military. Mélenchon has called for increased military spending and supported French imperialist wars. Die Linke (The Left Party) (Germany) is essentially a capitalist party that functions as a loyal opposition and ultimately supports the German state’s foreign policy.

One person missing from the book is Jeremy Corbyn. But his politics dominate Your Party. Corbyn and his acolytes are not leading a genuine socialist struggle but are preparing a political trap for the working class. Corbyn’s goal all along has been to subordinate the struggles of the working class to the Labour Party and the existing political establishment. He has always been pro-capitalist and nationalist. His closeness to the Stalinist British Communist Party and his agreement with its anti-working-class British Road to Socialism in his early political career have kept him in good standing.

His new party will act as a safety valve for working-class anger and work to prevent a genuine break from the pro-capitalist Labour Party. It is seen as a “Labour Party Mark II” that advocates only limited reforms to be pursued through parliament. The recent feud between Corbyn and his number two, Zarah Sultana, is evidence of its unprincipled, opportunistic nature.

Corbyn’s platform, which includes campaigning on issues like “peace” and “social justice” but avoids explicit class analysis, is dismissed by the WSWS as “studied vagueness” designed to obscure fundamental class divisions. The WSWS also criticises Corbyn’s reliance on and work with the trade union bureaucracy, which it characterises as having spent the last 40 years “shifting power and wealth away from the working class to the corporations and the state”.

Your Party is not the party the working class needs. Workers and young people should reject Corbyn’s new party. They should look for a genuine socialist alternative on the World Socialist Website.

Notes

Corbyn’s New Left Party: What It Is And What It Isn’t £3.00-mehringbooks.co.uk/product/corbyns-new-left-party-what-it-is-and-what-it-isnt/


[1] www.counterfire.org/article/tariq-ali-memories-of-the-struggle-reloaded/