The global system of human rights – the laws, standards, and mechanisms designed to protect people from government abuse – faces greater danger today than at any time since 1945. Fortunately, the UK now has a prime minister uniquely qualified to meet this challenge. Keir Starmer is a respected human rights lawyer and prosecutor with three decades of experience, personally dedicated to fighting injustice. He has an encyclopedic knowledge of human rights law – he literally wrote the book on European human rights – and has worked at every level of the legal system. (He’s the only British PM, and likely the only world leader, to have argued a genocide case – representing Croatia against Serbia in 2014 – before the International Court of Justice.) His time as Director of Public Prosecutions also gave him rare insight into how government actually works.
But there’s a problem: another powerful figure who critics say is undermining human rights. This person flatters authoritarian leaders abroad, weakens protections for vulnerable groups in the UK, equates peaceful protest with terrorism, and pressures festivals to drop artists whose views he dislikes. He sometimes attacks courts whose independence is crucial to human rights, while avoiding clear positions on life-and-death issues through legal wordplay. Even some supporters admit he’s a ruthless opportunist willing to abandon principles for political gain.
That person is also Keir Starmer.
Since Labour took power in 2024, much has been written about their missteps. But I’ve been struck by a different question: why has their human rights record – the one area where Starmer’s government should be strongest – been so inconsistent? Over six months, I spoke to Labour insiders, Starmer’s former legal colleagues, and human rights experts to understand how the lawyer shapes the prime minister.
Some see progress after the chaotic years of Johnson, Truss, and Sunak. “Stabilizing Britain’s commitment to law when the global trend is backward is a major achievement,” says LSE human rights professor Conor Gearty, who knows Starmer well. Philippe Sands, a barrister and vocal Iraq War critic, notes the UK is slowly rebuilding credibility lost 20 years ago: “At UN and Council of Europe meetings, Britain is again taken seriously on human rights.” Sands praises Labour’s push for a Russian war crimes tribunal despite U.S. hesitation – efforts he and Gearty attribute partly to Starmer’s crisis management skills. “Litigators thrive in chaos,” notes a senior barrister who worked with him.
Others are less impressed. Before the election, Starmer told Iranian activists human rights would be central to his government. “That’s the biggest…” [text cuts off]Keir Starmer successfully challenged control orders (restrictions on terrorism suspects’ movements introduced under Tony Blair) that had been imposed on two men. Both cases were won on human rights grounds.
While you can’t judge a barrister’s political views by their case history—since lawyers must take clients on a first-come, first-served basis—their chosen legal specializations reveal their interests. Starmer clearly focused on protecting individuals from harm by the state and powerful institutions. One notable example was his long-running pro bono work for the “McLibel” activists, environmental campaigners sued by McDonald’s. However, his political perspective evolved over time.
In the early 2000s, Starmer advised the Northern Ireland Policing Board on aligning the newly formed Police Service of Northern Ireland with human rights standards after the Good Friday Agreement. This signaled a shift in his view of the state—rather than seeing it solely as a defender of wealth and privilege (as a leftist might argue), he began to believe that human rights lawyers could be more effective working within the system. By ensuring state institutions complied with human rights principles, he believed they could operate more fairly.
As Director of Public Prosecutions (2008–2013), Starmer took a bureaucratic approach to the role. One of his proudest achievements was modernizing the agency’s record-keeping from paper to digital. Even critics admit his rule changes had benefits. For example, defense solicitor Matt Foot noted that Starmer’s guidance on leniency in assisted dying cases spared many from unnecessary suffering.
However, Starmer was also willing to use state power forcefully, such as during the 2011 riots—a stance criticized by his left-wing biographer, Oliver Eagleton. Whether right or wrong, this aligns with a pragmatic view of human rights. As legal scholar Conor Gearty observed, Starmer wasn’t a radical idealist but someone who valued working within the system to uphold the rule of law.
A key tension in human rights law is that it relies on governments voluntarily limiting their own power. In the UK, this plays out in debates over the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) and the Human Rights Act, which integrates it into British law. These frameworks are meant to prevent government abuse, but a vocal segment of the right sees them as undermining national sovereignty—particularly Article 8 (the right to private and family life), which they argue allows unwanted migrants to stay.
Given Starmer’s background, his government would be expected to defend these protections—and to some extent, it has. One of his first acts as prime minister was…The minister publicly stated that his government would never withdraw from the ECHR—one of several signals meant to show the new government’s commitment to international treaties and the rule of law.
Human rights NGOs acknowledge that the shift in approach has made a difference, though only to an extent. “There’s a clear contrast in how I engage with this government compared to the last one,” says Yasmine Ahmed of Human Rights Watch, who regularly meets with ministers and officials to discuss policy. “They’re open to thoughtful discussions about human rights.” The problem, Ahmed notes, is that this willingness usually only applies to politically safe topics, like the humanitarian crisis in Sudan. When her organization raises more contentious issues—such as migration or the war in Gaza—the government’s response, especially from senior figures, becomes far more guarded.
In March, under pressure from the right, Starmer’s government announced a review of how Article 8 is applied in immigration cases. Several human rights experts told me this reinforced a harmful misconception—one that, as a campaigner at an NGO put it, would “pour fuel on the fire.” Jamie Burton, a senior barrister and former colleague of Starmer’s, warned that weakening Article 8—which also protects British citizens from issues like media intrusion—would be a “lose-lose scenario.” In a recent article, Burton argued that Article 8’s use in immigration cases is already so restricted that further changes would be pointless, only fueling calls for the UK to abandon it entirely. Dominic Grieve, a former Conservative attorney general, suggested the focus should instead be on court delays, which he said were “undermining public confidence in the ECHR.”
Grieve, who oversaw Starmer as Director of Public Prosecutions, expressed confidence in the prime minister’s commitment to human rights. Yet many lawyers—regardless of their political views—have been unsettled by Starmer’s own rhetoric. Notably, during a February 2025 Prime Minister’s Questions session, Starmer claimed a court had made the “wrong decision” by allowing a Gaza family to reunite with their brother in the UK, citing a “legal loophole.” Legal experts disputed this: the judge ruled that while the family didn’t qualify under the Ukraine resettlement scheme, they still had a right to reunite under Article 8. Many lawyers were shocked that Starmer, of all people, would criticize an independent court’s decision. “For him, with his background, to attack a judge as prime minister was extraordinary,” said a KC who worked with Starmer in the 2000s. (At the time, Starmer’s spokesperson defended his respect for judicial independence following criticism, including from England and Wales’ top judge, Lady Carr.)
Starmer’s rhetoric appears driven by the rise of Reform UK. “They expect another Tory collapse, so the next election will be Starmer vs. Farage,” a source familiar with cabinet discussions told me. “That’s the explicit strategy. But no one’s talking about the wider consequences—what it means for the postwar order and human rights.” The source added: “If you’re on the left—like David Lammy, Angela Rayner, or Lisa Nandy—you won’t raise concerns in cabinet about where this is heading, because you’ll face pushback from Morgan McSweeney, John Healey, and Pat McFadden [Starmer’s chief of staff and two senior ministers].”Here’s a more natural and fluent rewrite of the text while preserving its original meaning:
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One source recalled a minister snapping, “What the hell are you talking about?” Both this insider and another familiar with cabinet discussions noted that ministers who disagree with the government’s direction also worry about being anonymously attacked in the media.
The bigger issue, they added, is that no one really knows where Keir Starmer stands. This uncertainty was highlighted in May when Richard Hermer, the attorney general appointed by Starmer last July, gave a major speech defending the government’s commitment to the rule of law. His remarks largely criticized the so-called “pseudo-realists” in Westminster who argue that the old global order is dead and that Britain should abandon treaties like the ECHR when inconvenient.
Hermer’s speech was significant because, like Starmer, he’s a former human rights lawyer—and has become a prime target for the right’s attacks on the government. Critics have dug up his past cases to question his politics, much like they once did with Starmer. (One particularly dramatic stunt involved Conservative shadow justice secretary Robert Jenrick standing in front of posters displaying Hermer’s former clients, including Shamima Begum and Gerry Adams.) Even within Labour, some officials have privately criticized Hermer, arguing that his legal background and strict adherence to legal advice are harming the party’s image. Yet Starmer has kept him in place—for now. “Starmer put Hermer there to keep himself honest,” one Labour strategist told me.
At first, Hermer’s speech seemed to reflect Starmer’s own views. But within hours, he faced backlash for suggesting that the “pseudo-realists” were influenced by Carl Schmitt, a 20th-century German jurist whose conservative theories are widely debated in academia—but who is best known as the Nazis’ favorite legal thinker. A day later, Downing Street forced Hermer to apologize.
To some, this episode exposed one of Starmer’s key weaknesses: he follows the law meticulously but avoids defending the principles behind it. “Human rights have almost become dirty words over the past decade,” said Karla McLaren of Amnesty International UK. “We hoped the new government would change that, but we haven’t seen it. Even when cabinet ministers discuss human rights issues, they rarely use human rights language.”
Another insider made a similar point about the ECHR: “We’ve let the right define the debate. It’s baffling that we keep attacking laws that actually benefit us—arguably more than other countries.”
A deeper flaw in the human rights system is that it relies on powerful nations to enforce it, yet global power imbalances undermine its credibility. If states can selectively hold others accountable for abuses, the idea of universal rights becomes a farce—and weaker nations have less reason to participate. This hypocrisy has been glaring in the West’s response to Gaza, a topic one official described as “something people feel very strongly about.”
Since Hamas’s October 7 attacks, Israel’s military campaign has killed at least 59,000 Palestinians in Gaza. Organizations like Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch—whose reports are often cited in Starmer’s former legal field—accuse Israel of committing war crimes.
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This version keeps the original meaning while improving flow, simplifying complex phrasing, and making it more engaging. Let me know if you’d like any further refinements!Both sides accuse each other of committing genocide. (They also agree that Hamas committed war crimes on October 7, including taking hostages and killing civilians.) Yet Israel has been able to continue its military campaign largely unchecked, thanks to support from allies like the UK and, most importantly, the U.S., its main military, financial, and political backer.
Since 1945, the U.S. has been the dominant global power and played a key role in shaping the human rights system—Eleanor Roosevelt, the former first lady, was instrumental in drafting the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. However, America’s commitment to upholding these principles has been inconsistent. As Gearty told me, “You didn’t have to be radical to think the international legal order favored the West,” but in the past, “you could pretend it wasn’t so blatant.” Now, he argues, Western support for Israel’s war has made this bias impossible to ignore.
Since taking office, Labour has tried to balance supporting Israel’s right to defend itself against Hamas and Iran while appearing to respect international law. At the same time, the government has been careful not to alienate the U.S., especially with Trump back in power. According to two sources familiar with cabinet discussions, there are internal disagreements over how to handle this—some take a hardline, “dog-eat-dog” approach, while others favor a more humanitarian stance. Both sides generally support Israel, but they differ in their level of backing for Netanyahu.
Starmer’s personal stance remains unclear, but as reported in a recent book by Gabriel Pogrund and Patrick Maguire, he has tightly controlled Labour’s position on Israel since October 7—unlike other issues where he delegates. His approach stems from several factors: shock at Hamas’s attacks, an early desire to distance Labour from the Corbyn era by showing strong support for Israel, and a belief that breaking with U.S. policy would be pointless.
In opposition, Labour mostly stuck to saying Israel had a right to defend itself while calling for international law to be followed. Now in government, it has criticized aspects of Israel’s campaign and affirmed support for the International Criminal Court (ICC). The UK has stated it would meet its “legal obligations” if Netanyahu—who faces an ICC arrest warrant—visited Britain, hinting at possible arrest without explicitly confirming it. When diverging from U.S. policy, such as imposing sanctions on far-right Israeli ministers, the UK has acted alongside other nations.
The government has also carefully avoided publicly declaring whether Israel as a whole is violating international law. Such a statement would have major consequences—Britain might then be legally required to impose broader sanctions, potentially freezing trade, military cooperation, and intelligence-sharing with Israel. Officials could also face scrutiny over what they knew and when, especially since aiding foreign war crimes is a criminal offense for public servants.
This cautious approach has led to some inconsistent moves. Most notably, in March, Downing Street forced Foreign Secretary David Lammy to retract his claim that Israel had “definitely” broken international law by blocking aid to Gaza—an act now causing mass starvation.The official stance was that Israel was only “at risk” of violating international law, not actively doing so. Publicly, ministers have reiterated that it’s up to the courts to decide whether Israel is committing genocide. However, Keir Starmer has also used his legal background to deflect criticism. During a tense exchange in Parliament last November, he snapped, “I’m well aware of the definition of genocide—that’s why I’ve never described this as genocide.” (The International Court of Justice, which is reviewing South Africa’s genocide case against Israel, isn’t expected to rule until 2027.)
The trickiest issue, however, concerns arms sales. When Labour came to power last year, they announced a review of UK weapons exports to Israel. Britain is one of the world’s top arms producers, with annual exports worth around £10 billion, and in theory, there’s a system in place to prevent these weapons from being used in human rights abuses. Manufacturers need government licenses to export arms—though a recent whistleblower claims the system is easily manipulated.
In late August 2024, newly disclosed court documents revealed that Starmer personally called Benjamin Netanyahu to warn that the UK would suspend 30 out of 350 arms export licenses. Officials had determined there was a risk Israel might use these weapons unlawfully—with one exception. British-made components for F-35 fighter jets (the world’s most advanced warplanes, primarily designed and built in the U.S.) would still be shared with allies, including Israel, as they were deemed vital for “global peace and security.”
This summer, a long-running legal challenge reached the High Court. Lawyers for the Palestinian rights group Al-Haq argued that continuing these exports violated the Genocide Convention, the Geneva Conventions, the UN Arms Trade Treaty, and UK export rules. The government defended its position—partly in secret hearings—claiming the F-35 parts were crucial for a joint defense program with the U.S., NATO allies, and partners like Israel and Saudi Arabia, acting as a deterrent against Russia. They also argued that the UK had no control over where the parts ended up, as U.S. arms giant Lockheed Martin managed the storage facilities. In essence, the U.S. was calling the shots—or, as government lawyers put it more vaguely, “the U.S. is primarily responsible for contracting with contractors.”
On June 30, the High Court sided with the government, ruling that security decisions were for the executive, not the courts. Some see this as an unavoidable political reality. “National security sometimes means tolerating things you might otherwise oppose,” former Attorney General Dominic Grieve told me. Others are less accepting. Yasmine Ahmed of Human Rights Watch, which supported Al-Haq’s case, warned that the government’s stance—that it can ignore certain rules—risks weakening international human rights treaties.
Even more concerning, Ahmed said, was the government’s interpretation of the Genocide Convention, which requires states to act if there’s a serious risk of genocide. Government lawyers argued that a state could only be in breach of this duty if genocide was definitively proven—something that could take years, meaning action would come too late. “That’s a shocking position,” Ahmed said. “It’s morally indefensible.”The decision to continue supplying F-35 parts is not only morally troubling but also legally and factually wrong.
Police arrest protesters supporting Palestine Action—a group recently banned under the Terrorism Act—in Manchester, 12 July 2025. Photograph: Milo Chandler/Alamy
Even those sympathetic to the government criticize the move, seeing it as part of a broader failure to protect human rights in Gaza. Philippe Sands told me, “What happened on 7 October 2023 was a horrific crime, but nothing justifies what’s happening in Gaza today—nothing. The fact that it wasn’t stopped long ago, and that the British government hasn’t done more, is deeply disappointing. Even as a friend of Israel, Britain’s role should be to speak truth to power.”
Human rights expert Conor Gearty understands the pressures Labour faces but remains critical. “Starmer, Hermer, Lammy—they’re all lawyers. They believe in the law, but they can’t handle the full consequences of upholding it.” A former senior diplomat who worked in Washington during the past decade said that while U.S. pressure is real, blaming America is often a convenient excuse for British politicians avoiding accountability. “It’s easy to say, ‘Don’t do that—the Americans won’t like it,’” the diplomat remarked.
This stance has also frustrated many UK civil servants working abroad. Earlier this year, over 300 Foreign Office staff signed an open letter to Lammy, expressing concerns about complicity in Israeli war crimes. In response, the department’s top civil servant suggested they consider resigning. A former Foreign Office employee said, “It’s humiliating. Colleagues working on Russia and Ukraine ask how we can demand accountability for human rights abuses there while ignoring Gaza. We look like hypocrites.”
The former civil servant had hoped Labour would uphold the rule of law in power, but that optimism faded quickly. “Lammy’s response to the letter was more ‘corporate dismissal’ than even David Cameron’s approach. At least Cameron would read it and think before replying.”
This isn’t new. In 1997, New Labour promised progress on human rights—incorporating the ECHR domestically and pursuing an “ethical foreign policy.” While they passed the Human Rights Act and backed global initiatives like the ICC, they retreated from broader reforms. As Francesca Klug notes in her 2015 book, the Blair government abandoned efforts to promote the Human Rights Act under media pressure and dropped plans to extend protections to economic rights, like decent living standards—as originally envisioned in the Universal Declaration. Meanwhile, Blair’s embrace of the “war on terror” weakened the UN and led to domestic civil liberties restrictions.
Carne Ross, a former Blair-era diplomat who resigned over Iraq, sees parallels with Starmer’s government. “Parties treat human rights as an opposition luxury, but in government, national security takes over,” he said. “That’s a false choice—prioritizing human rights actually strengthens long-term stability and security.”Human rights advocates have clear policy demands, but could the UK do more to protect the system as a whole? According to Gearty, Labour’s struggles reflect “the fundamental weakness in Britain’s global standing—something voters can never be told, because they still believe this country is a world power.” The problem, Gearty argues, is that these struggles only deepen the issue. “Britain lacks credibility for three reasons,” he explains. “First, it’s seen as America’s dependent, with no independent role. Second, it remains an imperial nation that hasn’t fully reckoned with its past—still largely believing it generously granted independence to grateful Global South nations. And third, having left Europe, it lacks any strategic vision.”
Sands takes a more hopeful view. “We’ve always lived in a world of double standards—what else is new? My entire career in international law has involved these contradictions,” he says. While he acknowledges the real threat to human rights from the hostility of the US, Russia, and China, he adds: “In that context, the Starmer government is swimming against the tide. I find that courageous.” Sands notes that many Global South nations, eager to resist domination by larger neighbors, still strongly support the human rights system—and the UK could help bolster their efforts.
For barrister Jamie Burton, the key lies in equality—both economic and political. “It’s a mistake to reduce human rights to technical legal battles,” he argues. “They define what society should be.” Focusing on economic equality, Burton believes, could counter the right-wing narrative that human rights only benefit ‘others’ at the expense of ordinary Britons. Starmer once seemed sympathetic to this idea—in opposition, he often cited the Marmot Review, a major study on health inequality, as a blueprint for Labour’s priorities. But his current stance is less clear.
Are we seeing the end of international law?
One story lingered with me while writing this piece. Earlier this year, British Palestinians met with Starmer, pleading for more aid to Gaza and for refugees to reunite with UK relatives. As one attendee described it, Starmer listened carefully but offered no new solutions. Then a teenager in the group spoke up: “She said, ‘I wanted to be a human rights lawyer like you. But after hearing you today, I’m disappointed. We expected more.'”
The Palestinian activist recalled thinking, That took courage, and worried she might have offended Starmer. But the PM’s reaction—or lack thereof—surprised him. “He looked stunned, but didn’t respond.”
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