Andy Burnham, Mayor of Greater Manchester since 2017 and hopeful for a third term in the upcoming May 2nd election, exudes positivity despite the dreary weather characterising his district. Burnham, originally from Manchester – a city of immense cultural significance and an economic pillar of the northwest, is steeped in optimism even when Manchester’s climate refuses to cooperate.
Burnham’s office in the heart of Manchester shelters him from the misery of the weather outdoors. His track record includes a 16-year stint as a Member of Parliament, serving as an up-and-coming minister under ex-Prime Minister Tony Blair, and subsequently securing a position in Gordon Brown’s cabinet.
His bid for Labour leadership saw him lose to both Ed Miliband and Jeremy Corbyn, yet his high visibility as Manchester’s mayor ensures discussions over a potential return to the capital for another attempt at top-tier political leadership rarely subside completely. Burnham is seen by his fans as the eloquent spokesperson that Labour Leader Keir Starmer is perceived not to be, while critics see him as self-focused in his pursuit of career progression. Burnham and Starmer are not reputed to have a close relationship.
England’s regional devolution system, which transferred more authority to Manchester and its mayor seven years ago, has enabled Burnham to make significant advancements in tackling challenges such as child poverty, education, and transport. Despite whispers about his undying aspirations for national politics, Burnham conveys that for the time being, he is content remaining in Manchester. He aims to serve another full term if re-elected in May, as anticipated.
Notably, Burnham has spoken out about his disillusionment with the party system in Westminster, which he sees as built on the despotism of the party whip. This system, he says, has the potential to portray politicians as deceitful to the public, often compelling them to support measures they only partially agree with and causing them to lose their sense of individuality.
Manchester is synonymous with the culture rather than just a location. Its history spans from the Madchester era of the 90s to the early 2000s, showcased by the Stone Roses, Happy Mondays, and Oasis, and precedents such as the Haçienda nightclub and Factory Records. It holds significance as the cradle of British trade unions, driven by its industrial past, and boasts a deep-rooted passion for football, standing alongside Milan as the sole European city which can claim two Champions League victor clubs.
The mayor, presiding over a swiftly expanding metropolitan region that encapsulates 2.8 million individuals, should naturally represent the feel of the city. Although Burnham is formally attired, he does it the Manchester way – a well-fitted black blazer paired with a sleek black T-shirt, tapered black trousers and black suede footwear. Emphasising his town’s spirit, he carries Manchester’s symbolic bee tattooed on his right upper arm.
Burnham exhibits a cool demeanour, is confident and in command of his words, demonstrating remarkable preparation alongside his apparent nonchalance. He understands his audience intimately. He expresses bewilderment regarding Dublin’s racially charged riots of the previous November, stating, “This isn’t the Dublin I recognise nor its people”.
He draws parallels between the historical disregard of Manchester, his hometown Liverpool, and other northern English cities by the privileged Westminster fraternity, and the colonial animosity endured by Ireland. Burnham, renowned for his relentless effort to secure justice for the Hillsborough families who were unjustly blamed for their own losses, subtly aligns this with the Bloody Sunday incident, where the victims were wrongfully held accountable for their own deaths by British authorities.
He states, “Anyone of Irish descent would recognise that regions in Ireland have undergone similar experiences [as Liverpool and Hillsborough]”. This sentiment of feeling overlooked, typical of a passionately dedicated mayor of a historically dismissed secondary city, can be noticed across borders. The inhabitants of Naples voice it about Romans and Milanese; the Munich residents reciprocate the sentiment about the Berliners. Yet, Burnham’s discourse is consistent, resolute and appears almost sincere, unlike a conventional politician.
Burnham identifies a lingering sentiment of condescension towards the north. He argues that an attitude persists that believes it is acceptable to treat the north differently. This was further displayed during the Covid pandemic, when the hospitality sector there was on the verge of closure and was given less furlough relief than other parts of the country. Burnham engaged in a public feud with Boris Johnson, then PM, over these uneven pandemic support measures and emerged victorious, earning him the flattering moniker of the “King of the North”.
Recently, he has seen this patronising attitude in the actions of the current prime minister, Rishi Sunak, notably in his cancellation of the Birmingham to Manchester stretch of the high-speed train project, HS2. Interestingly, Sunak decided to reveal this news, masked as an act of courage, personally in Manchester, despite not consulting the city prior to his visit to its Central Convention Complex, an old railway station.
“That indicated a clear disregard for established norms in British politics. I’ve had no contact with Sunak since he took office. Not a single phone call.”
He argues that Brexit was not so much a xenophobic surge, as some disappointed commentators suggest, but rather a desperate plea for change. This, he believes, came from the profound inequality within the country, especially in the ‘Red Wall’ territories of the Northern England.
“It was a primal scream of anger, driven by our stark national inequalities. It’s hard, but Britain is beginning to comprehend this. What we are doing here in Manchester, through devolved powers, is contributing toward a solution,” Burnham asserts.
He cites some scenarios as examples. In the ’80s, Margaret Thatcher privatised bus services across the UK, pledging that the market economy would offer improved services and cheaper fares. Burnham argues this did not eventuate. He confesses his participation in subsequent governments, even Labour ones, that failed to redress this and analogous issues.
“Delayed buses? You are helpless. Doesn’t arrive? You are helpless. It’s no wonder people in the north feel neglected. The governments I was part of did not do enough to remedy this, due to the different reality within the M25.”
Mayor Burnham has successfully rebuilt the transportation system of the region, including public buses. He intends to usher in educational reforms through the MBacc (Manchester baccalaureate) for the benefit of local youngsters who choose not to pursue university education. He credits the devolution of power in England’s regional areas, like Greater Manchester, for the newfound freedom and influence.
Interestingly, he sees perceived economic hurdles for a potential Starmer Labour government as a comparative edge over Blair’s victory in 1997. Burnham asserts that in this instance, the beneficial mechanisms of devolution have already been established.
“The Labour party in ’97 was riding a wave of widespread support, expectations were soaring, however there was no implementation blueprint. Keir would be on the opposite end of that spectrum. We can make connections with localised policy formulation,” Burnham claims. He discloses that he has held discussions with Starmer’s chief of staff, Sue Gray, to strategise how this shift may be brought about.
Despite Burnham’s visionary leadership as mayor of Greater Manchester, his Liverpudlian roots and Everton season ticket present a continual identity struggle. He recounts an Everton versus Manchester City game at Goodison Park, where both sets of fans targeted him with opposing regional insults. His endearing response to the situation was simply, “I can’t win”. However, as Manchester heads to the polls on May 2nd, he may soon find himself uttering the exact opposite.