Keir Starmer has once again shown a talent for evasion this morning, sidestepping direct questions over whether he personally discussed Peter Mandelson’s ties to Jeffrey Epstein before handing him a top diplomatic role.
Pressed repeatedly in the Commons, the prime minister declined to give a straight answer, opting instead for a familiar mix of apology, deflection, and political point scoring.
Under sustained questioning from Conservative leader Kemi Badenoch, Starmer refused to confirm whether any direct conversation took place with Mandelson about his association with the convicted sex offender. Rather than addressing the substance of the issue, he apologised for the appointment itself and quickly pivoted to criticising Badenoch over her views on Iran, an increasingly predictable tactic when scrutiny becomes uncomfortable.
Badenoch accused him of ducking responsibility and relying on aides rather than exercising proper judgement. It is a criticism that appears to land, particularly given the paper trail now in the public domain.
Recently released government documents, 147 pages in total, show that Starmer had been warned in advance that Mandelson’s relationship with Epstein posed a “reputational risk”. That warning alone raises obvious questions about due diligence, questions the prime minister seems unwilling or unable to answer clearly.
The files also reference a 2019 report commissioned by JP Morgan, which stated Epstein appeared to “maintain a particularly close relationship” with Mandelson. Even more awkwardly, the documents note that Mandelson reportedly stayed at Epstein’s residence while the financier was in jail in June 2009. These are not minor details that could be overlooked in passing, they are the sort of red flags that demand scrutiny at the highest level.
Despite this, Starmer proceeded with the appointment, later claiming he was unaware of the “extent and depth” of the relationship. That defence now looks increasingly thin, given the documented warnings.
Matters were made worse by the broader fallout from Epstein-related disclosures in the United States earlier this year, which triggered a political crisis for Starmer and contributed to the resignation of his chief of staff, Morgan McSweeney. The episode has left the impression of a government caught off guard by information it arguably should have examined more carefully.
Mandelson, for his part, insists he did not mislead the prime minister. He says he does not recall being questioned face to face about Epstein during vetting, and maintains that his written responses were “truthfully and fully” provided. Whether that reflects a failure of the vetting process or a lack of curiosity from those conducting it remains an open question.
In the Commons exchange, Badenoch cut to the heart of the issue, asking: “did the prime minister personally speak to Peter Mandelson about his relationship with the convicted paedophile Jeffrey Epstein before appointing him as our ambassador to Washington?” It is a simple question, yet one Starmer conspicuously failed to answer.
Instead, he reiterated: “This was my mistake in making the appointment, and I’ve apologised to the victims of Epstein, I do so again.” He added that the process had been reviewed and strengthened, but this does little to explain how such a controversial appointment was approved in the first place.
Badenoch pressed further, pointing out the inconsistency in Starmer’s position. “He has repeatedly told us that Peter Mandelson lied to him, but he won’t tell us if he actually picked up the phone and spoke to Mandelson before appointing him. If the prime minister didn’t speak to him, how can he say he lied to him?”
It is a fair challenge, and one that exposes the fragility of Starmer’s defence. If there was no direct conversation, the claim of being misled becomes harder to sustain. If there was, the refusal to confirm it becomes even more questionable.
True to form, Starmer again swerved, retreating into process talk and then launching an attack on a Conservative frontbencher over unrelated remarks. It is a pattern that risks reinforcing the perception of a leader more comfortable avoiding scrutiny than confronting it.
For a prime minister who has built much of his political identity on competence and integrity, the Mandelson affair is proving an awkward test. So far, his responses suggest not authority, but evasiveness, and a reluctance to provide the clarity the situation plainly demands.
