Class act: The working-class game binding London and Canberra

London and Canberra found themselves bound together once again, not through treaties or trade deals, but through a shared passion for rugby league. On July 23, during the initial phone call between newly elected British Prime Minister Andy Burnham and Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, the two leaders engaged in a spirited discussion about the sport that has long connected their nations. While intelligence cooperation and defense agreements were on the table, the conversation took an unexpected turn toward the cultural and historical ties forged through rugby league. Burnham, whose roots lie in the working-class neighborhoods of Manchester, spoke passionately about the sport's significance in northern England. He recalled how rugby league had become more than just a game, it was a symbol of resilience, community, and identity. Albanese, who grew up in a modest household in Melbourne, echoed this sentiment, expressing a desire to bring the Australian Kangaroos to the UK for a tour. He specifically mentioned the iconic 1990 match at Old Trafford, where Mal Meninga scored a memorable try, a moment that resonated deeply with Burnham, who hails from the same region. The exchange went beyond nostalgia. According to Burnham’s office, Albanese expressed interest in supporting the South Sydney Rabbitohs, a club based in Sydney, and pledged to "barrack for Prime Minister Burnham’s Leopards." This gesture, though seemingly casual, carried weight. The AUKUS military alliance, aimed at strengthening security cooperation between Britain, Australia, and the United States, requires a level of trust that goes beyond formal agreements. Shared experiences, such as a mutual appreciation for rugby league, can serve as a bridge between leaders navigating complex geopolitical landscapes. For Burnham, the connection to rugby league is more than personal, it is political. As he seeks to rebuild Labour’s appeal among working-class voters in the North of England, where rugby league is deeply embedded in local culture, the sport represents a lifeline. These communities, particularly in post-industrial areas like Lancashire and Yorkshire, have increasingly shifted support to right-wing parties, including Nigel Farage’s Reform UK. Burnham sees rugby league as a tool to reconnect with these voters, drawing on the sport’s legacy as a symbol of working-class solidarity. Rugby league’s origins trace back to 1895, when clubs in northern England split from Rugby Union over disputes regarding player compensation. The decision was driven by economic necessity, working-class players needed fair pay, while wealthier athletes could afford to play without financial reward. This divergence led to the creation of a separate code of football, one that emphasized teamwork, physicality, and a sense of belonging. The same dynamic played out in Australia, where the sport took root in colonial settlements and continued to reflect the struggles of working-class Australians. Today, the divide between Rugby Union and rugby league persists. Union remains associated with elite institutions, such as private schools, while league is linked to working-class backgrounds. This distinction is evident in the choices made by current political figures. Australia’s opposition leader, Angus Taylor, a Rhodes Scholar and former McKinsey consultant, plays Rugby Union, whereas Albanese, who grew up in social housing, played league. Burnham, similarly, embodies the spirit of the working-class ethos that defines rugby league in northern England. Tony Collins, an emeritus professor of history at De Montfort University and a leading authority on rugby league, describes the sport’s culture as unique. “It understands itself,” he said, highlighting the deep-rooted values of camaraderie, loyalty, and perseverance that define the game. For Burnham, these qualities mirror the values he seeks to revive within Labour, a party struggling to maintain relevance in a rapidly changing political landscape. As the next U.K. general election looms, the question remains whether rugby league can help Burnham reclaim the hearts and minds of working-class voters. With the sport serving as both a unifying force and a cultural touchstone, the connection between London and Canberra continues to evolve, shaped by shared histories and enduring traditions.