A Northern Populist Narrative - How Best to Harness it?

Following on from this contextual description, this section will seek to establish this concept. To define this notion, an understanding of populism in general must be reached. One of the leading thinkers on this topic is Cas Mudde, who defines populism as a ‘thin-centred’ ideology that perceives society as split into two, homogenous and antagonistic groups: the corrupt elite and the pure people whose general will must be carried out. See chapter 1 of Mudde’s ‘Populism: A Very Short Introduction’ for the full details. Evidently, this definition does not apply to the politics that Burnham advocates for. Yet the political narrative animating much of the politics within northern working-class towns, such as Makerfield, certainly fits snugly into this archetype – with the “pure people” representing the damaged working-class communities and “corrupt elite” representing politicians in London, exemplified by Thatcher, who are certainly depicted as antagonistic, or at the very least, uncaring.

 

The notion of ‘northern populism’ is in no sense an ideology; it is a collective perception or political narrative that frames Northern communities as victims of neglect by a distant, elite class of London politicians. Following on from this, the general will of the ‘people’ can be seen as a return to the economic security provided by the old manufacturing industries that had collapsed by the 1980’s. Yet what those who subscribe to this notion of northern populism truly wish to return to is not the manufacturing industries themselves, but the secure forms of employment and resulting prosperity relative to the rest of the country that preceded deindustrialisation. The distinction between the economic prosperity and security provided by traditional manufacturing industries and the actual industries themselves must be made; the true conclusion of this northern populist narrative is a return to the former, not the latter. This must be recognised and articulated by Burnham if he is to effectively use this significant political force prevalent across the red wall. 

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Now, Burnham is no populist. He does not project the simplified politics of the people against the elites and has long criticised the kind of populist politics peddled by Reform. It is understandable for Burnham to remain silent on Zak Polanski’s populist categorisation of British politics in order not to jeopardise prospects of a progressive coalition in the next general election, yet this is no suggestion that he subscribes or is sympathetic in any way to this view. 

 

Yet his campaign in the Makerfield by-election is certainly playing on the themes of Northern populism. In rightly recognising the feeling within similar communities of being politically left behind, and in fondly thinking back to 40 years ago, when such communities were united and more prosperous before the ‘London elites’ interfered, Burnham strays near a dangerously simplistic diagnosis of the problems of Britain’s forgotten communities. His rhetoric risks encouraging an economic nostalgia for an economic model that is no longer feasible.   

 

He must not translate what is currently a political strategy for the Makerfield by-election into a nationwide economic approach. Instead, he should rewrite the solution to the problem set forward by the ‘Northern populist sentiment’, forgoing a simplistic desire to return to the past and reframing it as a recognition of what these communities must demand from emerging economic sectors in the future. Simply put, Burnham should centre investment into new sectors of employment to reinvigorate these communities, rather than solely play on nostalgia for past economic security and certainty provided by manufacturing. Thus, Burnham is benefiting from a populist narrative, and if successful, will transform the theoretical destination of the sentiment. This could prove to be a winning formula, electorally and with the prosperity of these communities in mind, if these distinctions are understood.