It is no coincidence that the original version of House of Cards was born in the corridors of Westminster before being exported to the United States, nor that the greatest author of political dramas in history, William Shakespeare, was English. British politics has always been familiar with plots, internal rivalries and power struggles turned into spectacle.

The Tories have even made an art of it, with the proven scheme of internal destabilization inaugurated after Brexit: from the resignation of David Cameron to the defenestration of Theresa May, through the fall of Boris Johnson and the flash tragicomedy of Liz Truss, up to the slow wear and tear of Rishi Sunak. A true drama of conspiracies, frolics and backstabbing that lasted almost eight years, which saw five prime ministers succeed one another at a frenetic pace, transforming the governing party into a machine of permanent self-destruction.

Wes Streeting’s “media coup”.

And now it’s up to the Labor Party to try not to disfigure itself in the very script of entertainment politics, made up of coups, outbursts and showdowns. On Tuesday 12 May, once again, Keir Starmer was given up as a goner. And once again the attempted revolt turned out to be more of a nightmare for those who orchestrated it than for the prime minister himself, who at the end of the day was not only still in his place, but appeared even more solid than he was in the morning.

This is not the first revolt against Keir Starmer, but it is certainly one of the most intense: more than 80 Labor MPs have called for his resignation and four ministers have left the government. All were replaced within a few hours. As for Wes Streeting, the health minister and possible domestic challenger, he had a meeting with Starmer on Wednesday that lasted less than twenty minutes.

Gang war: who wants the Prime Minister’s head?

The meeting had been requested at the cabinet meeting on Tuesday morning, but Keir Starmer ignored the request, pointing out that there was an agenda and an international crisis to address. He limited himself to reminding the rebels that the party has an institutional mechanism to distrust a leader. If they wanted to use it, they should. In the meantime: business as usual.

But Streeting, at least so far, has not issued any formal challenge. Because, although his allies claim that he can gather the 81 deputies needed to open an internal competition, the doubt remains whether he really has the numbers to win it. In short, his may have been a bluff to trigger the media machine, which throughout the day was busy counting down the resignations that did not materialize. Starmer called the bluff, forcing Streeting to choose whether to turn the riot into a formal challenge or back down.

Streeting thus found himself faced with a choice: not to start the no-confidence process, losing the face and trust of those deputies and ministers who had put themselves forward for him, or even resigned, convinced that the leadership was one step away from collapse. Or proceed formally and risk Starmer surviving the vote. On the other hand, even around ninety rioters remain far from the necessary majority out of over 400 Labor MPs, while the signatories in support of Starmer seem, at least for now, more numerous than those calling for his resignation.

Because Starmer (for now) doesn’t fall

But there is much more at stake than a simple showdown with Starmer. What is taking place is a clash between two souls of Labour: on the one hand the moderate area, of Blairite ancestry, which looks to Wes Streeting and would like to move quickly to consolidate control of the party; on the other, a more traditional Labor left, close to the trade union world and to some figures such as Ed Miliband, who needs time to build an alternative and, perhaps, bring Andy Burnham, mayor of Greater Manchester, back to Parliament.

In this scenario, Starmer has become the terrain of conflict: the pretext through which the different currents try to redefine the future of the party. But the factions did, as they say, the accounts without the innkeeper, namely Keir Starmer, who did not succumb to pressure and, as a lawyer, sent the fronds back to the party’s institutional channels, rather than to the media theatre. It is no coincidence that the revolt was quickly dubbed “the media coup”: an attempt fueled more by the media circuit than by solid numbers capable of overthrowing the prime minister.

For some, however, it would just be a postponed coup: today was the King’s Speech, which inaugurated the new parliamentary year, certainly not the ideal day to challenge the prime minister. According to Wes Streeting’s allies, the possible ringleader could resign and challenge Starmer as early as Thursday.

So we can only ask ourselves: if he did, could he manage to gather enough MPs to oust Starmer? Anything is possible, but it would be an epic undertaking. Let’s see why.

What happens now?

Starmer can count on a solid base of MPs opposed to any change at the top, aware that if Labor were to fall into the same spiral of instability that has engulfed the Conservatives it would lose much of its credibility as a governing force, even while it still has a large majority, equal to around 165 seats, and finds itself managing a delicate economic phase and several international crises.

Then there is the left of Labour, which is unlikely to vote to pave the way for a Streeting premiership, a figure who does not enjoy cross-party consensus.

Nothing is closed yet, but – unless Miliband and his associates decide to side with Streeting with the aim of ousting him in a few months, opening a third alternation – in the event of a challenge the numbers would seem to remain on Starmer’s side.