Andy Burnham retreated to his mayoral office in Manchester just five months ago, blocked by Labour's ruling executive from standing for parliament. When I met him there a few weeks later, he told me he planned to deal with his disappointment with ambitious plans for his city region.
Burnham wanted to appeal directly to Fifa to host the final of women's football World Cup in 2035 Manchester instead of Wembley. "Imagine how electrifying that is for any girl growing up in the north of England," he said. He was joining forces with other mayors for a "Great Northern" Olympic bid across the north of England, and a plan was also afoot to host the Ryder Cup in Bolton. Sports bodies needed "re-educating" about the rest of the country, he said.
“Andy Burnham's Manchester-focused philosophy faces national scrutiny as he prepares to become prime minister.”
Manchester has already poached the Brit Awards from London after half a century in the capital. Big, bold gestures like these tell part of the story of what has happened in the city. Burnham's civic ambition is a byproduct of Manchester's status as the fastest-growing city economy in the country. As Burnham prepares to become prime minister, will he be able to apply the same model to the whole of the nation?
Even before Burnham returned to parliament in June, there has been talk of Manchesterism as a political-economic philosophy that offers a programme for national transformation, rooted in a critique of a currently unresponsive, over-centralised British state. The city has a long history of blending the freest of free markets with a strong social spirit. Manchester's cotton traders championed free trade and liberal economics, at the same time as the emergence of the co-operative movement, the trade unions and the Suffragettes. Even the Manchester Ship Canal, the emblem of monopoly-breaking free trade, required local government intervention backed by the workers.
But for an understanding of contemporary Manchester, you need to go back to the summer of 1996. Andy Burnham had left the north-west by then. He told me how when he first looked for a local media job after graduating in the early 1990s, all he could get was a role as an unpaid reporter on the Middleton Guardian. "I had to do what so many people of my generation, born in the 60s or 70s in the north-west of England had to do to get on in life," he said. "We had to go south."
By 1996, Burnham was an MP's researcher. That year, back in Manchester, the IRA detonated the largest bomb in the UK since World War Two, devastating the city centre. The reconstruction in the aftermath of the attack marked the start of Manchester's ascent from the doldrums of de-industrialisation. The essential idea pro…
