Compared to past reshuffles, Jeremy Corbyn’s latest shows him at his weakest, writes Progress deputy editor Conor Pope

This is the fifth shadow cabinet reshuffle since Jeremy Corbyn became leader just 17 months ago, and the first that I have not had to cover as a reporter. It has not been the most eventful of his term – partly in due to his reluctance to sack a number of junior shadow minister who voted against the whip.

The mammoth January reshuffle last year was barely a sack-a-minute, despite going on for more than a week.

Filling space in a liveblog during the long, dead, newsless hours of a reshuffle is no easy task. It takes good relationships with contacts willing to hint at things beyond their remit, it takes the background knowledge and a solid analysis of a situation to know when your tip-offs may be wrong and, above all, the sheer bloody will to update that liveblog some way, some how.

Followers of Labour liveblogs – reshuffle or byelection – tend to be fairly devoted. This means that, over time, your readers get to know you better and, through their engagement, you get to know them. You can even build up running jokes. Or try to, anyway.

After sacking Emily Thornberry over flaggate in 2014, Ed Miliband promoted Lord Willy Bach to the shadow cabinet as shadow attorney general.

Being one of the lesser known members of the frontbench, Bach would sadly finish last in every month’s shadow cabinet rankings among LabourList readers. His elusiveness invited intrigue and in some odd corners of the internet he became something of an ironic idol.

During late afternoon on the first day of the 11-day long January 2016 reshuffle (which had, at its outset, been described to me as ‘small’), I was given two bits of information. Firstly, that shadow justice secretary Charlie Falconer was for the sack, and secondly, that it was unlikely we would see any announcements until after 10pm.

‘Who would replace him’, I posited in the liveblog. Andy Slaughter perhaps? ‘Or could we see a triumphant return for LabourList favourite Lord (Willy) Bach?’ One for the regulars, I thought; they’ll like that.

Knowing I could not actually leave for the night, I retired from my spot in the stairwell outside the leader’s office and headed to the Stranger’s bar – the prime spot for gathering gossip that is almost never true.

Seconds after going through the door, my phone rang. It was a producer from a prominent television politics programme – probably wanting me to come on and share my insights.

Er, no. ‘I was wondering how reliable your source was on the Willy Bach rumour? No one else seems to know anything about it.’

If having to explain to the successful TV producer that it was a joke based on a wilfully niche Tumblr meme was not bad enough, I had to field three the same call from three more journalists that evening.

Despite the assurances, no moves were announced that night and, despite Michael Dugher pre-announcing his own sacking the morning after, Corbyn’s team refused to make any confirmation until almost midnight on the second day. Or, at least, no confirmation to the majority of restless hacks outside the leader’s office: the eventual briefing that Dugher was let go for ‘incompetence and disloyalty’ had somehow made the Morning Star’s front page, despite the paper’s print deadline being some five hours earlier.

There were about five of us that night, sitting on a corridor floor one flight down from Corbyn’s office with laptops on our knees, shuffling around so a cleaner could hoover. One of Corbyn’s spin doctors had stuck his head around the door to tell us that both Dugher and shadow Europe minister Pat McFadden were out.

Twenty minutes later, we were taken upstairs for a more in-depth briefing, where we were told that Dugher and McFadden had both been dismissed for ‘gross disloyalty’. McFadden’s guilty actions, it was confirmed, were asking the prime minister to ‘reject the view that sees terrorist acts as always being a response or a reaction to what we in the west do’, and this tweet about John Reid being good on the radio.

Compare that with Corbyn’s statement on the resignation of Clive Lewis last week, where the outgoing shadow defence secretary was described as ‘an asset … to the Labour party and our movement’. Lewis had not only broken a three-line whip but had been briefing out his resignation for a week in advance – as well as getting his allies to ring around members of parliament to discuss his leadership ambitions. No disloyalty there, clearly.

There are obvious risks to not giving glowing reviews to outgoing shadow ministers – although it is impossible to know whether erstwhile election coordinator Jon Trickett had anything to do with the leaking of internal focus group research on the hard-left’s preferred candidates for next leader – yet Corbyn’s words for Lewis still jar.

With so many at the top of the party thinking about succession planning, and Lewis a favourite for some even within Corbyn’s own office, was his praise in order to ensure Corbynistas do not turn against the frontrunner? Or, with his leadership looking increasingly shaky, his supporters up in arms over article 50 and party membership falling, is Corbyn realising that he needs to keep ambitious leftwingers close to him?

Either way, it is impossible not to see actions like this through the prism of Corbyn’s fragile grip on power. This may not have been the longest, most chaotic or resignation-filled reshuffle, but it may have been the one that shows him weakest.

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Conor Pope is deputy editor at Progress. He tweets at @conorpope

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Photo: Richard Gardner