Political commentators love the phrase “the battle for Number 10”. It’s shorthand for a general election. Until this week.
In his speech at The People’s History Museum in Manchester, Andy Burnham stated he would create a “No 10 North”.
So now we have to ask. Which No 10?
The phrase only worked because it was singular. One door, one number, one ambition. The moment Burnham said the words “Number 10 North”, the position quietly collapsed.
Do other things follow?
Which Britain?
It seems from this speech that we are also going to have to ask Which Britain?
Look at the language.
In a thirty minute speech, launching a bid for the leadership of the United Kingdom, it’s worth analysing which words do the work and carry the true meaning. “Place” appears throughout, in every register. “Postcode” returns as the emotional payoff, twice in the peroration. “Region” is used frequently, but always in the plural.
“Britain” appears, but notice how:
“Britain’s next PM.” “Britain back up to where we all want it to be.” “Britain some breathing space.” “Britain’s renaissance.” “British postcodes,” “British industry,” “British-based companies,” “British manufacturers.”
In almost every usage, Britain appears as either a destination (a state Britain will reach) or an adjective (Britishness attached to something else, such as a company, a postcode, an industry).
Burnham’s speech was almost a case of Ciceronian praeteritio: don’t mention Britain.
“United Kingdom” appears twice, both times in administrative contexts (“the whole of the UK,” “UK plc”). The “country” appears — but as a problem.
Britain is present, but it’s not the emotional centre. There is no “our nation” moment, where Britain or Britishness is invoked as the thing worth belonging to. (Contrast with Blair’s emphasis on “nation” : New Britain; Cool Britannia.)
And the Burnham keyword? “Postcode”.
The meme set up in the speech is “Good growth in every postcode”.
Not good growth for Britain.
Here’s the argument the language reveals: place is real. Postcode is real. Manchester is real. Britain, in this speech, is an administrative fiction that has failed the real places.
This is the language Andy Burnham will fight the next election on.
The Necessary Fiction
A postcode is a place you live, not one you love. You are not prepared to defend a postcode, or die for a postcode. Is it therefore a political unit?
At the heart of British life there is a fiction. The fiction is Britain: that Britain exists. But this fiction runs governments, it provides the rule of law. It protects. It defends our values.
No 10 is also a fiction. Ask Larry.