The only remaining question was how orderly the transition would be.
En el otoño de 2022, Westminster no debatía si Liz Truss debía abandonar el poder, sino cuándo y cómo. Un minipresupuesto que prometía recortes fiscales y liberalización económica desató el pánico en los mercados, hundió la libra y obligó al Banco de Inglaterra a intervenir, revelando en cuestión de días la fragilidad de un proyecto ideológico que Truss y su ministro de Finanzas, Kwasi Kwarteng, habían construido durante años. La paradoja más cruel de este episodio es que Kwarteng no fue sacrificado por traicionar a su primera ministra, sino por haberla obedecido demasiado fielmente.
- El minipresupuesto de Truss y Kwarteng desencadenó una crisis financiera inmediata: la libra se desplomó, los costes de endeudamiento se dispararon y el Banco de Inglaterra tuvo que intervenir de urgencia para proteger los fondos de pensiones.
- Truss despidió a su aliado ideológico más cercano en una rueda de prensa de viernes por la tarde que pareció más una rendición pública que una maniobra política calculada.
- Las encuestas mostraban que entre el 21 y el 33 por ciento de ventaja del Partido Laborista y que seis de cada diez británicos pedían la dimisión de Truss, quien era percibida como incompetente, rígida e indigna de confianza.
- Los diputados conservadores, únicos con poder real para forzar su salida, ya no discutían si actuar, sino cómo hacerlo: cambiar las normas del partido, evitar unas primarias largas o acordar una sucesión pactada entre bastidores.
- La supervivencia política de Truss se medía ya en semanas, y la única incógnita que quedaba era si la transición sería ordenada o caótica.
A finales de octubre de 2022, el Parlamento británico vivía uno de los episodios más vertiginosos de su historia reciente. Liz Truss había llegado al poder con un programa económico ambicioso y doctrinario: recortes fiscales, desregulación y una apuesta decidida por el libre mercado que ella misma había defendido en libros y discursos durante años. Cuando nombró a Kwasi Kwarteng como ministro de Finanzas, parecía que por fin tenía la oportunidad de llevar esas ideas a la práctica. El minipresupuesto fue su gran momento. Y también su ruina.
Los mercados reaccionaron con alarma. La libra cayó, los tipos de interés de la deuda pública se dispararon y las hipotecas se encarecieron tan rápidamente que el Banco de Inglaterra tuvo que intervenir para evitar el colapso de los fondos de pensiones. En cuestión de días, el proyecto económico de Truss quedó desacreditado. Su respuesta fue despedir a Kwarteng, el hombre que había ejecutado fielmente su visión, en lo que muchos interpretaron como un intento desesperado de distanciarse de unas políticas que ella misma había diseñado. La ironía era difícil de ignorar: Kwarteng no cayó por rebelarse contra su primera ministra, sino por estar demasiado de acuerdo con ella.
Pero el sacrificio no bastó. Las encuestas mostraban que la opinión pública responsabilizaba a Truss en igual medida que a su exministro. El Partido Laborista acumulaba ventajas de entre 21 y 33 puntos porcentuales, y seis de cada diez ciudadanos pedían su dimisión. La imagen de Truss había quedado dañada de forma quizás irreparable: incompetente, rígida, poco fiable.
El verdadero poder para forzar su salida residía en los propios diputados conservadores. Las normas del partido impedían formalmente un desafío al liderazgo durante el primer año, pero esas normas podían cambiarse cuando los parlamentarios lo decidieran. Y las opciones eran múltiples: una votación interna entre dos candidatos sin consultar a la militancia, una sucesión pactada de antemano para evitar una carrera larga y desgastante, o umbrales de candidatura tan elevados que solo uno pudiera superarlos. A mediados de octubre, la pregunta ya no era si Truss sería apartada, sino cuándo y de qué manera. Sus días en el número 10 de Downing Street se contaban en semanas.
By late October 2022, the question consuming Westminster was no longer whether Liz Truss would survive as Prime Minister, but rather how quickly her own party could engineer her departure. The catalyst was brutal and swift: a mini-budget promising tax cuts and supply-side reforms that spooked the markets so thoroughly the pound collapsed, borrowing costs spiked, and mortgage rates climbed sharply enough that the Bank of England had to intervene to protect pension funds. Truss's response was to sacrifice her Finance Minister, Kwasi Kwarteng, in a Friday afternoon press conference that was less a political maneuver and more a public humiliation—hers as much as his.
What made this moment extraordinary was not merely that a Prime Minister had fired her Chancellor. That happens in British politics; the relationship between Number 10 and Number 11 Downing Street has always been contentious, and Finance Ministers often pay the price when the economy stumbles. What was genuinely unprecedented was the speed and the irony. Kwarteng had held the job for barely seven weeks, making him one of the shortest-serving Finance Ministers in modern British history. More strikingly, he was not removed because he disagreed with Truss or pursued a reckless agenda against her wishes. He was removed, in a delicious political irony, because he agreed with her completely.
Both had spent years advocating for a smaller state, lower taxes, reduced public spending, and fewer regulations—the full neoliberal program they believed would position Britain as a great commercial and military power in the twenty-first century. Truss had even written a book on the subject, "Britannia Unchained," laying out this vision. When she won the Conservative leadership race and appointed Kwarteng as her Finance Minister, they saw their moment. The mini-budget was meant to be their vehicle. Instead, it became their catastrophe. Markets punished them, the public turned against them, and within days Kwarteng was gone, replaced by Jeremy Hunt, a more cautious operator who immediately began dismantling the very policies they had championed.
But firing Kwarteng did not save Truss. Polling showed the public held her equally responsible for the chaos. Voters, who already preferred the Labour Party by margins of 21 to 33 percentage points, now viewed her as untrustworthy, incompetent, ideologically rigid, and personally unlikeable—qualities that matter enormously in modern politics, even in parliamentary systems that have grown increasingly presidential in character. Six in ten British voters thought she should resign.
The real problem for Truss, however, was that only her own Conservative MPs could force her out. And here the procedural landscape became crucial. Party rules nominally prevented leadership challenges in the first year of a leader's tenure. But those rules were not immutable. Conservative MPs could change them whenever they chose, and they would do so if Truss refused to go quietly. The MPs also knew they could not inflict another full leadership election on the country—the summer's contest to replace Boris Johnson had been chaotic and exhausting. But they had options. They could arrange for MPs to vote on two candidates, then bypass the membership vote entirely. They could engineer a "coronation" by having potential rivals agree beforehand to withdraw. They could set nomination thresholds so high that only one candidate qualified. Where there was will, there was a way.
By mid-October, Conservative MPs were not debating whether to remove Truss. That decision had been made. They were debating the mechanics and timing. Some wanted it done before the next election, others were willing to wait. But the consensus was clear: her days were numbered, measured in weeks rather than months. The only remaining question was how orderly the transition would be.
Citas Notables
Six in ten British voters thought Truss should resign— Public polling data
Conservative MPs were not debating whether to remove Truss, but how and when to do it— Political consensus among Westminster MPs
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did Truss fire Kwarteng if they agreed on everything? Wouldn't that make her look weak?
It did make her look weak. But she was drowning. The markets had punished the mini-budget so severely that something had to be sacrificed, and she chose him instead of her own political vision. It was a gamble to buy time.
Did it work?
No. The public blamed her just as much as him. Firing your closest ally doesn't erase your fingerprints from the policy.
So why couldn't the party just remove her immediately under the existing rules?
The rules said no leadership challenge in the first year. But those rules exist only because MPs agreed to them. They could change them in an afternoon if they wanted to.
What's stopping them from doing that right now?
Optics, mostly. Another leadership election would look chaotic and self-serving. So they're waiting, strategizing, looking for the cleanest way to make it happen without destroying the party further.
How long does she have?
Weeks. Maybe a month or two. But the outcome is already decided. It's just a question of procedure now.