Peter Mandelson was always a high-risk appointment – his departure will not end the matter for Keir Starmer

13th September 2025

The line between pulling off a diplomatic masterstroke and setting up an accident waiting to happen can be a fine one. In the seven-month fable of Peter Mandelson’s UK ambassadorship to the US, the crossing of that line has created a political polycrisis for which it is hard to think of a parallel.

In the week after the prime minister, despite his efforts, lost his deputy, and the week before the American president arrives in the UK for an unprecedented – and unpopular – second state visit, Keir Starmer, despite his efforts, has lost the person he controversially personally appointed to the UK’s highest diplomatic post. Worse, over a matter that also happens to implicate Donald Trump – a matter journalists could conceivably raise at the president’s and prime minister’s press conference during the forthcoming state visit.

The risk in the main was in the ambassadorship itself. The US is the UK’s closest and most important international ally and the Washington ambassador is the lynchpin of that relationship. They are the UK’s eyes and ears, permanently operating at the centre of the political and social life of the US capital in the way that no other country’s ambassador has been, is, or could be.

But the risk was also in the man. Prince of Darkness, Third Man, (only last week: “my familiar role as professional villain”), possessed of a public career already involving two high-profile reputation-wracking resignations, Mandelson has always been weapons-grade Marmite.

It was a reflection of post-Brexit British weakness, rather than strength – the desperate need for a trade deal – that Starmer turned to him. Yet personal relations being so important with this president, it can now be seen to have made less sense to have replaced a scandal-free ambassador – Karen Pierce – who was on the best possible terms with Trump and his people. She may return.

Its prominence is why, perhaps, DC is usually the only British ambassadorship that is ever “political” – that is, that a prime minister personally chooses someone who isn’t a diplomat. And even then, it’s rare. One may now see now why. The previous political appointment – in the 1970s – also ended inauspiciously, in a welter of recriminations over nepotism and extra-marital affairs resulting in best-selling novelisation and a hit movie.

The main grounds for Mandelson’s appointment were his public prominence (his “weight”), his experience as an EU trade commissioner, and his almost preternatural networking skills. The latter has been his undoing, given that for years he networked with the man who was to become the world’s most infamous sexual abuser of children.

To describe the appointment as high risk and high reward matters because of the supreme importance of the office and the singular character of the officer. If one can screen the Epstein stain momentarily, the widespread frustration in government was that Mandelson had been justifying that risk.

He was clearly an effective ambassador. Only the week before he delivered a trenchant statement of the contemporary special relationship; the day before he was sacked he had spent an hour with Trump. Ambassadors tend not to have meetings with presidents.

Fundamentally this falls on the fallen. Mandelson knew of the Epstein material that has come to be made public, knowing that it might be made public. He admitted only this week that even more was likely to come after the initial, highly embarrassing, disclosure.

Mandelson took the UK’s most important diplomatic post knowing he was sitting on a ticking bomb. Given the precise nature of the explosive, the political obituary can certainly now be written about one of the most vivid public figures of the past 30 years.

But the more consequential damage will be to the man who appointed him. Downing Street’s statement that security vetting took place without its involvement is not credible.

Much may hinge on what the vetting files reveal – if they are revealed. The decision on whether to release them is a matter for MPs, and how Labour backbenchers choose to vote will be a significant indicator as to the mood in the party.

A crisis from Hades, replete with shadowy associations of global elites and paedophile rings; a hot buffet for online conspiracists, who may be more numerous and prominent in the US, but are far from reticent in the UK. And so the political class undergoes another detention.

The political damage to the government in general and to the prime minister in particular is hard to overstate. That is in part a matter of misfortune: that this particular major crisis comes a week after the previous one. But it has nevertheless provided the leader of the opposition with the most palpable success of her own benighted tenure. Seldom can a relaunch have relapsed so quickly.

However hapless he may increasingly appear, it’s too early to write Starmer’s political obituary. The election may be over three years away, his parliamentary majority is unassailable, and his party – unlike that of the leader of the opposition – has no culture of regicide (although mayor Andy Burnham, observing and pronouncing from Manchester, seems increasingly prepared to test that). Yet the very size of that majority, and the near certainty that many Labour MPs will be one-term, makes public expressions of discontent consequence-free, and consequently freer.

It’s more than curious that so innately risk-averse a person as Keir Starmer appointed so risk-taking a person as Mandelson to his country’s highest-profile international office. That misgivings were aired at the time, including in these very pages, is the least of it.

Author
Martin Farr
Senior Lecturer in Contemporary British History, Newcastle University

Note
This article is from The Conversation web site. To read it with links to more information go HERE

Looking at the Scandals of Peter Mandelson
Peter Mandelson has long been one of the most influential—and controversial—figures in modern British politics. A master strategist behind New Labour’s rise in the 1990s, his career has been punctuated by a series of scandals that forced him to resign from government twice and attracted lasting criticism about his closeness to power and wealth.

The first major scandal came in 1998, when Mandelson was serving as Secretary of State for Trade and Industry. It emerged that he had received an undeclared £373,000 loan from Geoffrey Robinson, a fellow Cabinet minister, to help purchase a house in Notting Hill. At the time, Robinson’s business dealings were under investigation by Mandelson’s own department, creating a serious potential conflict of interest. Although Mandelson insisted the loan was a private arrangement and denied any wrongdoing, the failure to disclose it to Parliament proved politically untenable. He resigned from the Cabinet in December 1998, becoming the first of Tony Blair’s ministers to fall from grace.

Barely two years later, in January 2001, Mandelson was again forced to step down, this time as Northern Ireland Secretary. The so-called Hinduja passport affair centred on allegations that he had improperly intervened in support of an application for British citizenship made by the Hinduja brothers, Indian billionaires who had at the same time donated funds to the Millennium Dome project. Mandelson initially denied having any involvement, but it was later revealed that he had indeed contacted Home Office officials on their behalf. Though a subsequent inquiry cleared him of acting corruptly, the perception that he had blurred the line between public duty and private lobbying led to his second resignation from the Cabinet.

Later in his career, Mandelson’s controversies shifted away from formal breaches of ministerial codes and towards questions of propriety and judgment. In the mid-2000s and beyond, he became embroiled in a series of stories about his links with wealthy and powerful individuals, including Russian oligarchs. In 2008, for example, it was revealed that Mandelson had socialised with aluminium magnate Oleg Deripaska while staying on the billionaire’s yacht in Corfu. Critics argued that such relationships raised troubling questions about conflicts of interest, particularly as Mandelson, then EU Trade Commissioner, had influence over tariffs that directly affected Deripaska’s business interests. Though no rules were found to have been broken, the episode reinforced Mandelson’s image as a figure too comfortable in the orbit of the ultra-rich.

These reputational concerns only deepened in the years that followed. Most damaging were his connections to Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell. Reports showed that Mandelson had spoken with Epstein by phone on multiple occasions, attended gatherings with him, and exchanged friendly emails with Maxwell. What made the revelations particularly toxic was that some of this contact continued after Epstein’s 2008 conviction for sex offences. While Mandelson insisted that his interactions were social and innocuous, the association with such a disgraced figure has cast a long shadow.

By 2025, these links proved decisive. Serving as Britain’s Ambassador to the United States, Mandelson was dismissed from his post after further disclosures about the extent of his relationship with Epstein came to light. Although he was never accused of criminal wrongdoing, the political fallout was severe, and his forced removal marked a dramatic fall from the heights of diplomatic service.

Taken together, Mandelson’s scandals trace a consistent theme: a man of immense political skill and influence who repeatedly undermined his own career through questionable judgment and damaging associations. His story illustrates both the precariousness of public trust and the enduring risks faced by politicians who operate too closely with the wealthy and powerful.

Was he more interested in personal enrichment than working for the public good
he answer isn’t simple, because his record shows both a genuine commitment to political reform and a pattern of associations that suggested self-interest or personal gain.

The case for personal enrichment or self-interest

Undeclared loan (1998): Accepting a £373,000 interest-free loan from Geoffrey Robinson, without disclosure, looked like a personal financial arrangement that blurred ethics. Even if it wasn’t corruption, it gave the impression that Mandelson was looking after himself first.

Hinduja passport affair (2001): Though he was later cleared of wrongdoing, the suspicion that he intervened in the citizenship process for billionaire donors created the sense that Mandelson was willing to bend rules for powerful allies.

Connections to oligarchs and billionaires: Spending summers on yachts with the likes of Oleg Deripaska, and later being linked socially to Jeffrey Epstein, painted him as someone at ease in the circles of wealth and privilege, raising doubts about whether he represented the interests of ordinary voters.

Perception of elitism: Mandelson himself famously remarked that New Labour was “intensely relaxed about people getting filthy rich.” This became shorthand for critics who saw him as too closely aligned with business and finance, and insufficiently focused on the working class.

The case for public service and the public good

Architect of New Labour: Mandelson was one of the chief strategists behind Labour’s transformation in the 1990s. His communications skills and political management were crucial in helping the party modernise, broaden its appeal, and win the 1997 landslide. That victory allowed Labour to introduce the minimum wage, expand NHS funding, and pursue policies many consider socially beneficial.

EU Trade Commissioner (2004–2008): In Brussels, he worked on major global trade negotiations, arguing that freer trade could benefit developing countries. Supporters point to this as evidence that he was capable of thinking beyond narrow personal interests.

Northern Ireland Secretary: Despite the scandal that ended his tenure, Mandelson did play a role in advancing aspects of the peace process, working with both unionists and nationalists during a difficult period.

A balanced assessment

Mandelson’s career seems to have been driven less by crude personal enrichment than by a desire for influence, access, and status. He cultivated wealthy connections, partly for personal comfort but also because he saw them as useful to Labour’s project of modernisation. His scandals often stemmed from poor judgment about appearances rather than proven corruption.

That said, his willingness to blur lines between public duty and private relationships left him open to the charge that he valued proximity to wealth and power more than accountability to the public. For many, this made him a symbol of the gap between New Labour’s promises of ethical government and its tendency to slide into establishment politics.

How does this situation damage Keir Starmer

The renewed focus on Peter Mandelson’s scandals—especially the Epstein connection—creates several problems for Keir Starmer, both politically and personally. The damage isn’t so much about Mandelson himself as about what his role says about Starmer’s judgment, Labour’s direction, and the party’s credibility.

Association with discredited figures

Starmer brought Mandelson back into Labour’s orbit as an adviser and confidant, particularly on strategy and business outreach.

Even if Mandelson was not in formal office, his visible closeness to Starmer means that every revelation about Mandelson reflects back on the Labour leadership.

Critics can say: “If Starmer knew Mandelson’s past baggage, why keep him so close?”

Questions of judgment and ethics

Starmer has tried to position himself as a figure of integrity—restoring trust after the Corbyn years and presenting Labour as a responsible, trustworthy government-in-waiting.

If one of his closest advisers is tainted by scandal, it undercuts that message.

Opponents (both Conservatives and Labour’s left wing) can argue Starmer has poor judgment in choosing advisers, or worse, that he is comfortable with the very networks of wealth and privilege that Mandelson embodies.

Fuel for Labour’s internal critics

The Labour left has long accused the leadership of being too close to business elites and too dismissive of grassroots concerns.

Mandelson—an architect of Blairite New Labour—already symbolised that tension. His scandals now give the left ammunition to say: “This is exactly why Labour abandoned ordinary people.”

It risks reopening old wounds between Labour’s factions just as Starmer wants to project unity and competence.

Political attack lines for opponents

Conservatives can frame this as evidence that “Labour hasn’t changed” and is still haunted by the sleaze of New Labour.

Media headlines linking Starmer to Mandelson’s name, even indirectly, distract from Labour’s policy agenda and allow critics to paint Starmer as part of a political class out of touch with voters.

For undecided or swing voters, the whiff of scandal—however unfair—can erode confidence in Labour’s promise of “clean government.”

Perception problem, not just reality

Importantly, Starmer himself is not implicated in wrongdoing. The damage lies in perception: if Mandelson was one of his key behind-the-scenes advisers, the public may assume Starmer shares some of his instincts, or at least tolerated his questionable connections.

In politics, appearing to turn a blind eye can be nearly as damaging as direct involvement.

In short: Mandelson’s downfall revives the spectre of New Labour sleaze, undermines Starmer’s claim to ethical leadership, and offers easy attack lines to opponents inside and outside Labour. Even if Starmer distances himself now, the very fact he kept Mandelson close for so long risks leaving a lasting mark.

The Mandelson misjudgement
A podcast from the Institute for Government
37 Minutes packed with discussion and details.

Peter Mandelson has been sacked as the UK’s ambassador the US. But what does his downfall say about Keir Starmer’s judgment in making appointments? The Observer’s Cat Neilan joins the podcast team to weigh up the dramatic end of Mandelson’s time in Washington.

Keir Starmer has a new team in place, with ministers hastily moved around following Angela Rayner’s dramatic departure from the cabinet – so what do all the recent personnel changes mean for where his government goes next?

Plus: Has Starmer done enough to strengthen rules around ethics? And what future headaches are looming?

https://www.instituteforgovernment.org.uk/

More IFG podcasts at https://www.instituteforgovernment.org.uk/our-podcasts/inside-briefing