Why Keir Starmer’s attack on Nigel Farage was wrong

The Prime Minister’s speech at the Labour Party conference in Liverpool this week was one of his most impassioned yet.

For months, critics had been accusing Sir Keir Starmer of being too managerial, too technocratic, too uninspiring. This time, he spoke with conviction, declaring his intention to build an inclusive, patriotic, non-racist Britain.

Starmer shared personal stories from his childhood that connected with his audience. He described how his father felt “second class” because he worked with his hands, and how that shaped his desire to restore dignity to working people. It was a powerful and moving moment, acknowledging that we must honour the contributions of those who are often overlooked but who form the bedrock of our society.

That vision of dignity is deeply resonant. In Christian thought, every human being carries the Imago Dei - the image of God. Our value is not measured by our degree certificates, career path or postcode. It is intrinsic, unearned and equal. When Starmer speaks of lifting up the dignity of the working class, he taps into something profoundly biblical: the recognition that no one is second class in the eyes of God, and therefore no one should be treated as second class in society.

Crafted by God

I have always found it encouraging that one of the first individuals in the Bible explicitly described as being “filled with the Spirit of God” is not a king, priest or prophet, but rather a relatively obscure craftsman named Bezalel (see Exodus 31). In a world that often elevates the visible and celebrated roles, God wanted to make sure people like Bezalel were not overlooked. He specifically hand-picked Bezalel to help construct the tabernacle - the spiritual and social centre for the whole community and the sacred space where heaven and earth would meet.

If God can reconcile with those who opposed him, how much more can we?

It is no secret that Starmer’s father was also a craftsman. The audience cheered the Prime Minister loudly as he joked: “I think you all know by now what my father did for a living”. He went on to explain that his dad always felt disrespected and undervalued because he worked with his hands. Starmer clearly sees the injustice of that and went on to promote apprenticeships as an honourable alternative to university degrees, adding that he wanted to live in a country where all people are treated with the dignity they deserve and are afforded the same respect - whatever their differences.

Starmer also acknowledged that our country is at a crossroads. He said the choice between dignity or decline was a “fight for the soul of the country”. He called out those who are stoking fear and division and branded them “snake oil merchants”. And while I agreed with much of what he said, I began to feel uneasy as his scathing remarks became more and more personal.

Going for gentleness

Starmer increasingly singled out Nigel Farage, leader of Reform UK, whom he labelled as “the enemy of renewal”. I have my own deep concerns about Reform’s politics. Too often, their rhetoric lays the blame for society’s problems at the feet of immigrants and fuels fear of the stranger.

In contrast, scripture commands us to welcome the stranger. Jesus himself said that how we treat the hungry, the thirsty and the foreigner revealed our heart towards him (see Matthew 25:35). The language of hostility that Reform often uses - and Labour now seems to be mirroring - not only corrodes public debate; it undermines the biblical calling to hospitality and reconciliation.

Once politics slips into personal attack, we reduce people to caricatures and opponents to enemies. This is a dangerous trajectory. The language of war displaces the language of democracy. Our political rivals are not demons to be defeated but neighbours to be persuaded. The apostle Paul urged Christians to “let your gentleness be evident to all” (Philippians 4:5). That gentleness feels in desperately short supply in public life.

Nigel Farage has already fired back, warning that this kind of rhetoric risks dragging Britain into the same polarisation we see in the United States. In one sense, that sounds hollow when Reform - and parts of the right-wing press - often traffic in precisely that division. Yet on this point, he is not wrong. When both sides demonise each other, the cycle only accelerates.

For centuries, one of the marks of British politics has been the dignity with which opponents address each other. We have not always agreed – and sometimes we have disagreed passionately - but respect has been the glue that has held our democracy together. Lose that, and we risk tearing apart not only our politics but our common life.

Enemies no more

Christians believe reconciliation is at the very heart of God’s work in the world: “While we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son” (Romans 5:10). If God can reconcile with those who opposed him, how much more can we model reconciliation with those who disagree with us? Imagine the witness if political leaders, across deep divides, spoke words that healed rather than inflamed.

Our political rivals are not demons to be defeated but neighbours to be persuaded

This matters because the challenges Britain faces are immense. Housing shortages, NHS pressures and stagnant wages will not be solved by blaming immigrants or by trading insults across the despatch box. These issues require us to work together and build together. They require us to rediscover that our neighbour is not our enemy but our ally in creating the common good.

Perhaps this sounds naïve. But as we see countries around us torn apart by aggression, polarisation and hatred, Britain cannot afford to be divided against itself. Keir Starmer cannot afford to slide into the bitterness he is renouncing in others.

And we, as the Church, cannot afford to stay silent. We must hold all our leaders to account and graciously challenge them to speak and act with dignity and respect, recognising the image of God in all - even in those we do not agree with, or who stand in opposition to us.