Published: 15 January 2026. The English Chronicle Desk. The English Chronicle Online.
Keir Starmer is confronting growing unease within his parliamentary party as the Hillsborough law becomes a source of serious internal tension. The proposed legislation, promised in Labour’s election manifesto, was intended to rebuild trust between the state and bereaved families after public disasters. Instead, a breakdown in talks with victims’ relatives has reopened painful divisions, raising the prospect of a rebellion by Labour MPs and placing renewed pressure on the prime minister’s leadership during the bill’s critical parliamentary stages.
The Hillsborough law was designed to introduce a statutory duty of candour on public officials and contractors. Its central purpose is to ensure honesty, transparency, and cooperation with investigations following major tragedies. For families affected by historic disasters, the measure symbolised a long-awaited shift away from institutional defensiveness and toward accountability. Within the first hundred days of Labour’s new government, the bill was framed as evidence that lessons from past injustices were finally being learned.
The emotional weight of the issue was evident last year when Starmer was introduced at the Labour conference by Margaret Aspinall. Her son James, aged eighteen, was among the ninety-seven people who died in the 1989 Hillsborough disaster. Aspinall praised Starmer publicly for committing to the law after decades of campaigning by families. That moment was widely seen as a bridge between Labour’s leadership and those who had waited generations for justice.
However, optimism has since faded. This week, families from Hillsborough and the 2017 Manchester Arena bombing emerged from talks with the prime minister expressing deep disappointment. The disagreement centres on how the duty of candour would apply to serving intelligence officers. Families fear the current wording leaves room for secrecy that undermines the very purpose of the legislation.
At the heart of the dispute is whether directors of intelligence agencies should retain the power to prevent individual officers from giving evidence. Relatives argue that such discretion echoes past inquiries where crucial information was withheld. Their concerns are shaped by the Manchester Arena inquiry, which revealed serious failures in how intelligence was handled before the 2017 attack that killed twenty-two people at a concert in the city.
During that inquiry, individual officers eventually gave evidence showing that MI5 had not been truthful about intelligence that might have prevented the bombing. Families believe this disclosure only happened because officers were allowed to speak directly. They worry that under the current Hillsborough law proposals, similar evidence could be blocked before reaching an inquiry, even when public interest demands transparency.
Caroline Curry, whose nineteen-year-old son Liam died in the Manchester Arena attack, described the government’s stance as deeply frustrating. She said the proposed protections amounted to giving intelligence services excessive freedom from scrutiny. For families already traumatised by loss, the sense that institutions could again control the narrative felt like a betrayal of the law’s spirit.
Curry also spoke about the emotional toll of what she called a false narrative presented by MI5 after the attack. She said discovering the truth years later compounded her grief. For her, the Hillsborough law should guarantee that no family endures similar anguish caused by delayed honesty or partial disclosure.
Inside Parliament, concern is spreading beyond the families themselves. Ian Byrne, a Labour MP who has tabled amendments to extend the duty of candour to individual intelligence officers, has warned he may not support the bill in its current form. He has described the possibility of voting against it as personally devastating, reflecting the depth of feeling among backbenchers.
More than twenty Labour MPs have reportedly backed amendments aimed at strengthening the law. Their argument is that national security concerns can be addressed without granting blanket discretion to intelligence chiefs. They believe inquiry chairs should decide whether evidence should be excluded, rather than agency directors acting as gatekeepers.
Government sources have insisted that the proposed framework would prevent intelligence services from misleading inquiries. They argue that a statutory duty of candour would itself represent a major cultural shift. However, it is acknowledged privately that intelligence leaders would still control whether officers are permitted to testify at all, a concession families find unacceptable.
Legal experts involved in previous inquiries have echoed these concerns. Pete Weatherby KC, who represented families during the Hillsborough inquests and later at the Manchester Arena inquiry, has warned that the bill risks repeating past mistakes. He argues that the aim of the Hillsborough law is to prevent cover-ups, not to create new mechanisms for withholding information.
Weatherby has said that families recognise legitimate national security issues. They accept that some evidence may need protection. Their proposal would allow intelligence heads to apply to inquiry chairs to restrict disclosure on specific grounds, ensuring an independent decision. For campaigners, this balance is essential if the law is to command public confidence.
The government, however, maintains that it cannot compromise on national security. Officials argue that intelligence officers may only know fragments of sensitive operations. Giving evidence without full context could, they say, endanger ongoing work or future efforts to prevent terrorism and serious crime. Ministers believe the current amendments already represent a significant step toward greater accountability.
As negotiations stalled, the bill’s return to the Commons was delayed until next week. The pause is intended to allow further dialogue, though both sides privately acknowledge positions are hardening. Starmer’s spokesperson has stressed that the prime minister remains personally committed to making the legislation as strong as possible while safeguarding security interests.
Politically, the stakes are high. The Hillsborough law carries enormous symbolic importance for Labour, particularly given its historical association with justice campaigns. Any perception that the party is retreating under pressure could damage trust with voters who expected decisive change after years of Conservative rule.
At the same time, a visible rebellion by Labour MPs would expose fractures early in Starmer’s premiership. Managing expectations among families, campaigners, and his own backbenchers has become a delicate balancing act. How this conflict is resolved will shape perceptions of the government’s willingness to confront powerful institutions.
For bereaved families, the issue is simpler. They want assurance that truth will not again be delayed by bureaucratic caution. The Hillsborough law, in their view, must place honesty above institutional reputation. Whether Parliament can deliver that promise now remains uncertain, but the outcome will resonate far beyond Westminster.




























































































