Keir Starmer’s private life has drawn unwanted attention of late—three young Ukrainian men have been charged with arson attacks at properties linked to him.
But the real scandal is how such an unremarkable man rose to power, and who put him there.
THREAD 🧵
How does a man so maddeningly mediocre, compromised and uninspired ascend to the most powerful office in Britain? The short answer is that he was groomed for it. Sir Keir Rodney Starmer, endlessly parading his “toolmaker’s son” fable, didn’t climb to power by talent or conviction. He was carried—shielded, protected, advanced—by an establishment that saw in him the perfect instrument: bland enough to be forgettable, pliant enough to be useful, ruthless enough to serve their ends.
His record as head of the Crown Prosecution Service tells the real story. Jimmy Savile escaped justice under his watch—files were destroyed, charges were never pursued. Victims were ignored while Starmer nearly rubber-stamped the decision not to prosecute. Meanwhile, Julian Assange was pursued with obsessive zeal,with one CPS lawyer even warning prosecutors not to “get cold feet”. Justice for predators connected to power was abandoned, but punishment for a dissident publisher was pursued relentlessly.
Likewise, serial rapist John Worboys was spared further charges, Ian Tomlinson’s killer was initially left unprosecuted, and MI5 agents implicated in torture were protected. Yet poor people accused of benefits fraud? Starmer changed CPS guidance so even the most minor cases could mean a decade in prison. That’s not impartial justice. It’s class justice. Deep State justice. Starmer’s justice.
His “ordinary” backstory is equally contrived. His father was no factory hand but a small business owner. His grandfather was a Tory gamekeeper with a castle address. Starmer himself was a member of the Fabian Society before he had ever set foot in Parliament, and was welcomed into the Trilateral Commission—an exclusive globalist think tank—very early in his political career. At Davos, he admitted he preferred the company of billionaires to Parliament’s “tribal shouting place”.
His career arc shows careful grooming: knighted, cushioned into Parliament in 2015, elevated to Shadow Brexit Secretary, where he played loyal soldier until the moment came to help topple Jeremy Corbyn. When the dust settled, the establishment’s empty vessel was leader of the Labour Party.
The cover-ups smoothed his rise. As argued by former diplomat Craig Murray, documentation tying him to Savile, Assange, and other scandals was mysteriously destroyed. His failures were excused. His betrayals rewarded. The Deep State protected him because it was preparing him—and in return, he paid back the investment.
As Labour leader, he championed more lockdowns, more mandates and more controls during Covid—including the passing of emergency legislation to “deal with” so-called “anti-vaxxers”. Once in office, he imposed tighter restrictions on “free speech”, held investment talks with BlackRock and Bill Gates, pushed inheritance tax changes that threaten to drive family farmers off their land—all while turbocharging the Net Zero agenda with massive onshore wind and solar expansion.
For donors and Davos men, he has been a dream. For Britain, a nightmare in slow motion.
Starmer’s venality knows no bounds. He is the incarnation of greed itself: tens of thousands of pounds in luxury clothing, hotel stays, football tickets, horse-racing perks. No Labour leader has ever pocketed more gratuities. For a man who pretends to speak for “working people”, his life is a catalogue of elite indulgence. What makes it even more appalling is the timing. The extravagances pile up while Britain goes down the drain, with violent crime rising, grooming gangs operating with impunity, and towns and cities overrun by foreign nationals. Starmer sits in his taxpayer-funded ivory tower, feasting on privilege while the country he claims to represent burns to the ground.
The question then is not how he rose, but what his rise says about Britain. It says democracy is pantomime, parties are playthings of the powerful, and the will of voters is subordinate to the will of donors, spooks, media barons and Davos technocrats. Starmer is not a leader but a project. A man advanced not despite his absence of character but because of it. A morally bankrupt careerist into whom the establishment can pour whatever it likes. A mouthpiece, a mannequin, a manufactured prime minister.
Britain is now fronted by a man whose CPS failed to stop Savile—arguably the vilest paedophile the country has ever known—but hounded Assange, who shielded torturers but punished the poor. A man who toppled his own leader to please the system, who accepts luxury gifts from wealthy donors while mouthing nonsense about “ordinary people”. Keir Starmer isn’t an accident of politics. He is its symptom. He’s what you get when principle is abandoned, when continuity of control matters more than democracy. A man with no vision, no conviction, no compass. A man who exists to hold the office, not to use it.
And that’s the bitterest irony of all. The emptier the man, the easier the ascent. The weaker the leader, the safer the establishment. Starmer’s rise is not his triumph; it is Britain’s tragedy.
This thread was written for Wide Awake Media by no-nonsense researcher and writer, John Mac Ghlionn.
John has written for a number of publications, including Blaze Media, The NY Post and The Hill.
Share this Scrolly Tale with your friends.
A Scrolly Tale is a new way to read Twitter threads with a more visually immersive experience.
Discover more beautiful Scrolly Tales like this.