.png)
2 weeks ago
8
There is an old maxim in Westminster that scandals are not exposed, they are simply noticed. It applied to the expenses scandal that rocked public faith in the political system more than a decade ago, and to many since, from the Pestminster sexual misconduct scandal to Partygate.
The same was true of the freebies row. And while there was no evidence in this instance that parliamentary rules had been broken, or that improper favours had been sought by those who offered the gifts, it created a huge political headache for Labour when it was noticed.
The headlines began in August, when Keir Starmer’s biggest personal donor, the Labour peer Waheed Alli – a businessman who had donated more than £100,000 to Labour for more than 20 years – was spotted in Downing Street with a temporary security pass.
The “passes for glasses” affair, so called because Alli had previously given Starmer clothes and £2,435 worth of eyewear – all declared – led to accusations of cronyism, since the peer had no formal role in No 10. It also prompted questions over who had authorised his pass.
Labour admitted that he had attended some meetings, but said that no civil servants had been present. “I don’t think it’s unusual for people to have passes to attend political meetings if they need to do so,” said Pat McFadden, the Cabinet Office minister.
Privately, his cabinet colleagues disagreed. “What was the pass even for?” one asked. Downing Street sources have suggested to the Guardian that Sue Gray, Starmer’s former chief-of-staff and a friend of Alli’s, had signed it off so he could help out in the early days with tasks including drawing up ministerial appointments.
Others asked whether Alli, who has a myriad of business interests, had expected anything in return for his donations. His allies said the Labour peer simply wanted the party to do well in government. “He’s a multimillionaire already – he doesn’t need anything,” said one.
In mid-September, it emerged that Starmer had initially failed to declare £5,000 of gifts from Alli used to buy clothes for his wife, Victoria. He approached the parliamentary authorities to make a late declaration after being given fresh advice on what should be disclosed. The standards commissioner decided not to investigate.
But the row spiralled. Trawling through Starmer’s official declarations, reporters totted up that he had accepted more than £107,145 worth of gifts, benefits and hospitality since the 2019 election – including tickets to Arsenal matches and Taylor Swift and Coldplay concerts.
Angela Rayner and the chancellor, Rachel Reeves, had also accepted donations of clothes and gifts. Alli had also lent Rayner his Manhattan apartment for a holiday and bankrolled a 40th birthday party for the education secretary, Bridget Phillipson.
The row became even more personal for Starmer, who defended borrowing an £18m penthouse flat from Alli during the election, saying he wanted his son to have a place to study for his GCSEs away from journalists and protesters outside their family home.
No 10 repeatedly failed to shut down the story – and opposition parties continued to make hay. No 10 then gave into pressure and announced that Starmer and his ministers would stop taking free clothes. But it was too little, too late.
“We came into office promising to be different from the Tories. Keir always took the moral high ground in opposition,” says one Labour MP. “The public expected us to be squeaky clean. Yes, it’s a higher bar than the other lot, but we set it. Now they think we’re all the same.”
The optics of freebiegate were particularly damaging because the row erupted just weeks after the chancellor had announced winter fuel duty would be cut for all but the poorest pensioners.
MPs, already under siege from angry constituents over that decision, were now forced to defend senior ministers from charges of hypocrisy. “It was awful,” says one MP. “They were very publicly enjoying the trappings of power at just the same time they were taking away support from some really vulnerable people.”
Luke Tryl, the executive director of the research organisation More in Common, says the scandal caused a rocky start to the Labour government.
“It played into the public’s frustration at the pervasive sense of ‘one rule for them’ and that politicians are only looking for what they can get out of the job, contradicting Starmer’s mantra of politics [as] service,” he says. “People felt they were electing this government to bring an end to the seeming perma-scandal that marked the end of the last Tory government – and we’ve had people in focus groups saying: ‘Oh, it’s just more of the same.’”
While the focus has moved on, some inside government fear that, given the lack of trust in British politics more broadly, the freebies row will be difficult for some voters to forget – and give other political parties an open goal. “With Reform perfectly positioned to capitalise on anti-politics sentiment, scandals that Labour might have been able to brush off suddenly risk turbocharging Nigel Farage’s rise,” says Tryl.
Ministers are now much more cautious as a result. But Starmer, his allies say, does not dwell on the row. “He has barely mentioned it since,” says one insider. “He has remarkable staying power and is totally focused on the longer term. He’ll bounce back.” In his latest register of interests, he declared another £1,000 worth of tickets for watching his beloved Arsenal.
Some Labour figures, however, remain concerned that Starmer still believes that he has been treated unfairly, and has struggled to see how – because he broke no rules – he has done anything wrong. “The freebies row showed that certain parts of the operation were not alive enough to the politics of the situation,” said one source. “My concern is that the tone was set from the very top.”
