Sir Keir Starmer, the UK’s new prime minister, brings an impressive CV: barrister, former director of public prosecutions and ex-shadow Brexit secretary. An establishment insider who knows his way around the corridors of power, he is no stranger to leadership. But that does not necessarily make him a good leader, nor even indicate his potential to become one.
Being a member of a privileged elite might land you a plum job, but it does not make you good at it. Our ancient Welsh forebears knew this well, telling stories to expose bad and promote good uses of power, as my research has shown. Starmer could do a lot worse than to read the Four Branches of the Mabinogion from Welsh mythology during his first few weeks in office.
From those skilfully fashioned tales of lordship, he might learn a lot about how to conduct himself as head of government. And, crucially, how not to. English translations of the Four Branches, along with seven other unconnected stories found in two medieval manuscripts – The White Book of Rhydderch (circa 1350) and The Red Book of Hergest (circa 1382) – appeared as part of Lady Charlotte Guest’s Mabinogion (1847-49).
She was an English aristocrat and first publisher in modern print format of the Mabinogion. Unlike the other tales in Guest’s compendium, those of Pwyll, Branwen, Manawydan and Math each form part of a cycle of interlacing stories. Although medieval compositions, they appear to draw on more ancient material and to be set in pre-Roman .
