COLUMN: Starmer Under Fire—When the Epstein Scandal Brings Down Heads at Downing Street

Broken Trust

McSweeney’s resignation was expected. For the past week, calls for him to step down had been mounting, including within the Labour Party. “Starmer must get rid of those who gave him such bad advice,” thundered Karl Turner, a Labour MP. But for many, it is Starmer himself who should step down. “He has shown poor judgment,” accuses Kemi Badenoch, leader of the Conservative opposition. “He must take responsibility for his own disastrous decisions.” The polls are clear: Labour, already in free fall in the polls, risks suffering a crushing defeat in the local elections in May. Some Labour elected officials, speaking on condition of anonymity, are already talking about “the end of his reign.”

Starmer has tried to limit the damage. On Thursday, he apologized to Epstein’s victims, acknowledging that he had “believed Mandelson’s lies.” He promised to release the emails and documents related to the former ambassador’s appointment, asserting that they will prove that Mandelson “deceived” the government. But these promises ring hollow. First, because British police have seized part of the archives, blocking their release. Second, because the damage is done: the image of a naive—or worse, complicit—prime minister is now firmly entrenched. How can anyone believe in his ability to “restore integrity” when he placed a man like Mandelson in such a sensitive position?

Worse still: the scandal exposes the flaws in a failing appointment system. McSweeney may well accept responsibility, but he also points out that he did not oversee the vetting process. So who did? Who approved Mandelson’s nomination? Who turned a blind eye to his ties to Epstein? Starmer promises a reform of the “vetting” process. Too little, too late. Because what the British people need is not administrative reform. They need a purge. Total transparency. A clean break from these opaque methods that have already destroyed so many careers—and so many lives.

Starmer is a lawyer. A former prosecutor. A man who has built his reputation on rigor and ethics. So how can we explain that he could have been so wrong? Either he was misled, in which case his inner circle is incompetent. Or he knew, in which case he is an accomplice. In either case, he no longer belongs in Downing Street. Because politics isn’t just a matter of competence. It’s a matter of trust. And today, that trust has been shattered. Epstein’s victims are still waiting for justice. The British people are waiting for answers. And Starmer, for his part, seems above all to be waiting for the storm to pass. But storms, sometimes, sweep everything away in their path.

Their Struggle, Our Silence

Amid the media frenzy, the power plays, and the cascade of resignations, there are names we forget—those of the hundreds of young girls, some of them minors, whom Jeffrey Epstein abused, exploited, and destroyed. Women, some of whom dared to speak out, confront their tormentors, and demand justice. And who, even today, see their hopes betrayed by politicians more concerned with their careers than with the truth.

Starmer may offer his apologies, but they ring hollow. Because these apologies come too late. Because they are calculated. Because they are not accompanied by any meaningful action. Where is the independent commission of inquiry into the ties between Epstein and the British government? Where are the sanctions against those who protected Mandelson? Where is the official acknowledgment of the systemic failures that allowed men like him to thrive?

Declassified documents show that Mandelson was not an isolated case. Other names—other British figures—appear in Epstein’s archives: politicians, businessmen, members of the aristocracy. Yet no one seems in a hurry to get to the bottom of it. British police are investigating, but only for “breach of public trust.” Not for complicity. Not for harboring a criminal. As if the real crime were not associating with a child sex offender, but lying about it.

I’m thinking of them tonight. Of those women who had to face hell, then contempt, then indifference. They believed in justice. They believed that, perhaps, one day, the powerful would pay for what they did—or for what they allowed to happen. But no. Today, they’re offered half-hearted apologies, symbolic resignations, and promises of reform. As if that were enough. As if that could erase years of suffering. The truth is that Mandelson is just one link in the chain. That Starmer is just a symbol of the prevailing hypocrisy. And that as long as we accept these half-measures, these unspoken truths, these compromises with morality, we will all be complicit. Complicit in their silence. Complicit in their pain.

Three Ways Out of the Impasse

McSweeney’s resignation won’t be enough. To restore some semblance of credibility, Starmer—if he wants to survive—must take action. Three measures are essential. First, publish the full documents related to Mandelson’s appointment, without waiting for the police’s findings. Second, launch an independent commission of inquiry into the ties between Epstein and the British government, with broad powers and complete transparency. Finally, he must thoroughly reform the process for appointing senior officials to prevent figures like Mandelson from reemerging.

But beyond Starmer, the entire British political class must take a hard look at itself. How did we get to this point? How can a country that prides itself on being a model democracy allow a scandal like this to fester for years? Why does it take leaks, media pressure, and crises for the truth to come out? The British people deserve better than backroom apologies. They deserve better than resignations under pressure. They deserve the truth. Justice. A clean break.

And if Starmer isn’t capable of offering them that, then he should step down. Because in a democracy, no man is irreplaceable. No career is worth the cost of lost trust. And no strategy justifies turning our backs on the victims. Ever.

I don’t know if Starmer will survive this crisis. Maybe he will. Maybe his party, out of political expediency, will keep him in place. Maybe the British public, weary of it all, will eventually move on. But one thing is certain: this affair has exposed something rotten in Her Majesty’s realm. Something that goes beyond Mandelson, McSweeney, or even Starmer. Something that strikes at the very heart of politics. So yes, let’s demand accountability. Let’s demand the truth. Let’s demand that those who failed take responsibility. Because if we don’t, who will? And if we let this slide, what will we accept tomorrow?

Time to Make Choices

The Epstein-Mandelson-Starmer affair is much more than a scandal. It is a revelation. A revelation of the dysfunctions of a political system where networks take precedence over ethics, where the powerful protect one another, and where victims are the lowest cogs in the machine. Today, the United Kingdom stands at a crossroads. Either it chooses transparency, rigor, and justice—or it sinks into denial, backroom deals, and half-measures.

Starmer still has a choice. He can try to save his own skin, hoping the storm will pass. Or he can seize this crisis to reinvent his leadership. To show that, this time, things will change. That the victims matter. That integrity is non-negotiable. That politics can still be a place of honor.

But that takes courage. It requires breaking with old habits. It means accepting that you have to lose some battles to win the war for trust. And above all, it means understanding one thing: in a democracy, legitimacy isn’t decreed. It’s earned. Every day. Every decision. Every action.

I don’t know what Starmer will choose. Perhaps tomorrow he’ll announce strong measures. Perhaps he’ll prefer to wait for the storm to pass. But one thing is certain: we, the citizens, do not have the right to forget. Not this time. Because if we let this slide—if we accept that Mandelson gets off with a simple resignation, that McSweeney leaves without anyone digging deeper, that Starmer survives without being held accountable—then we will have lost far more than a political battle. We will have lost what lies at the very heart of democracy: the idea that truth and justice matter more than power. So no, we have no right to look the other way. Not this time.

Signed, Jacques Provost