While Westminster continues to recite a script that no longer exists, the real country has already pulled the plug. In our view, the local elections of this May 2026 mark the beginning of the twilight of British bipartisanship. The Labour Party of Keir Starmer saw its consensus crumble, losing hundreds of seats in England and suffering lethal haemorrhages even in red strongholds such as Manchester; on the other hand, the Conservatives were literally wiped off the local maps, certifying their irrelevance after fourteen years in power, again losing historic strongholds.

This vacuum was filled by a double socio-political shock. On the one hand, theReform UK wave swept through the boroughs, winning over 1,400 councillors and control of several administrations. On the other, the Green Party cannibalising the progressive electorate in nerve centres like Hackney and Lewisham, but still not breaking through nationally. The original sin of the Greens? Still being a niche force, unable to turn discontent into a shockwave comparable to that of Reform UK.

What was historically regarded as one of the most solid models of democracy and political stability in the world is now mirrored in a balkanised political landscape, and the majority electoral system does not seem to help.

The original sin of Brexit

It all began with a miscalculation destined to change history. In 2016, David Cameron conceived the referendum as a sedative for the chronic internal divisions within the Conservative Party, divided between pro-Europeanist drives and Eurosceptic radicalism. That device, designed to stabilise the Tories, has instead exploded in the hands of Westminster, turning into the main factor of discontinuity in contemporary British politics and shattering society along generational, economic and territorial lines.

Exiting the EU has acted as a catalyst, reactivating centuries-old rifts that now threaten the very integrity of the Kingdom. While independence pressures are rekindled in Scotland, the Good Friday balances in Northern Ireland appear increasingly fragile; this institutional earthquake is compounded by a heavy economic bill: slowing growth, exploding living costs and a worrying brain drain to the continent have transformed discontent into a systemic sentiment, shattering citizens’ trust in the traditional political class.

The real legacy of this rift, however, is not only material. The clash has shifted to a new geography of values that the old bipartisanship can no longer map. The historical fault lines have been overwhelmed by new identity collisions: globalism versus sovereignism, multiculturalism versus border control, environmental urgency versus industrial growth. In this polarised landscape, Labour and Tory compasses have stopped pointing in the direction, leaving the country in a structural transition of which the May elections are only the latest, brutal manifestation.

The crisis of the leaders

The second key element of British instability is an unprecedented leadership crisis: in the last ten years Downing Street has turned into a political graveyard. The Conservatives, torn apart by infighting, have demonstrated a chronic inability to maintain a coherent political identity and stable leadership over the long term. David Cameron‘s misstep, unable to manage the Eurosceptic wing of his party, triggered an implacable domino effect. Theresa May has been paralysed by cross-vetoes over Brexit; Boris Johnson, capable of sweeping the 2019 election with a historic majority, has since been overwhelmed by pandemic scandals and inflation. The situation has not been improved by the Liz Truss disaster. Her government, which imploded in just 44 days due to a dastardly financial manoeuvre, caused a very heavy loss of credibility that not even Rishi Sunak ‘s last-ditch effort was able to heal.

On the opposite front, the dynamic does not change, in the Labour wing, Keir Starmer, after marginalising Corbyn’s radicals and returning the Party to power after 14 years, is already hostage to the same script. Trapped between the difficult management of the migration crisis, the security emergency and the toxic legacy of Brexit, the current premier is burning consensus at record speed. Today Starmer sits on a mountain of seats, over 400, but rests on a swamp of support. His 2024 triumph is a mathematical-political paradox: an overwhelming majority obtained with fewer votes than his 2019 defeat. To further erode this fragile consensus base and the credibility of the executive, the judicial chronicle has also intervened.

What deeply shocked the Labour leader was the scandal of Baron Mandelson, former UK ambassador to the US and a long-time politician in Starmer’s party, who was however involved in the Epstein scandal and arrested together with Prince Andrew, also linked to the same affair. Starmer has publicly disassociated himself from the episode, but Mandelson’s accusations of leaking confidential government information have certainly weighed on the credibility of the Prime Minister and the entire executive. The ability of the two historic parties to satisfy and represent the electorate appears to be steadily and inexorably diminishing.

Beyond left and right

The heart of the problem is that the old compasses are broken. The British system stood for a century on the rift between capital and labour theorised by Rokkan and Lipset, but today that economic fault line is no longer able to ‘encapsulate’ and stabilise the vote. The conflict has shifted to a purely cultural and identity dimension, accelerating the emergence of deep divisions: globalism versus sovereignty, openness versus closure.

This sociological landslide has short-circuited even the mathematical laws of politics. The majoritarian system(First Past the Post), which should physiologically produce bipartisanship, is failing in its reductive mission. As Sartori’s analysis suggests, majoritarianism only works as a stabiliser if the system is ‘structured’; today, on the contrary, new identity loyalties have de-structured the electorate, creating pockets of radicalisation that circumvent the filters of electoral law and turn traditional parties into cartel parties, perceived as distant and colluding.

In this vacuum are the Green Party and Reform UK, but both carry structural weaknesses that risk making their lives short-lived. The Greens, while offering a distinct platform on the environmental divide, have underperformed in the polls and are unable to make an impact on the other major national divisions: the real risk is that they will remain a niche thematic party.

For his part, Nigel Farage shows unexpected resilience despite carrying the political weight of Brexit on his shoulders, but his Reform UK remains a giant with feet of clay. Its ruling class, populated by throwaway candidates and improvised figures who give up their seats in record time, undermines the party’s credibility as a governing force. For Farage, the challenge is to transform a horde of protesters into an institutionalised party; a mission that, at the moment, seems far from being accomplished. It is no longer a challenge between economic agendas, but a head-on collision between irreconcilable worldviews.

The dawn of a new system: where does the UK run to?

In the light of this political autopsy, it is clear that the UK’s instability can no longer be interpreted as a mere transitional phase. We are facing a structural transformation involving the party system, social priorities and the very relationship between citizens and institutions.

The first and most plausible scenario is that of irreversible fragmentation. Reform UK and the Greens have become actors capable of consolidating their role, making the system more competitive but also structurally unstable. The first-past-the-post system, which for centuries guaranteed strong governments, now seems powerless in the face of cleavages it can no longer process. This institutional earthquake is fuelled by the never-ending territorial risk: Scottish nationalists, invigorated by London’s failures, could force a new referendum for independence within a few years, and this time the result is likely to be the coup de grace to the Union’s integrity.

The hypothesis of a rapid stabilisation appears, on the contrary, to be a desire of the moderates. Although populisms historically tend to erode in the medium term, the traditional parties, Conservatives and Labour, are not showing any capacity for internal reorganisation and response to these fractures. They remain succubi of the new fractures created by Brexit, losing blood even in their own historical strongholds.

Ultimately, the Brexit was the catalyst that accelerated a process of decomposition that was already underway. What we observe today is the expression of a transitional phase towards a new party system that is still uncertain (perhaps even a new bipartisanship), but destined to have a lasting influence on European politics.

The European political class had better be on its guard: the UK represents patient zero of this crisis of liberal democracy, which may soon infect the rest of the Old Continent.