Rachel Reeves pursues political prize over £22bn financial hole

The basics of Rachel Reeves’ Commons statement about her fiscal inheritance from the Conservatives were simple: there is a £22bn financial hole that needs fixing. But there was a bigger picture being presented, and with it, a potentially invaluable political prize.

At the heart of the chancellor’s near 30-minute presentation to the Commons was a narrative that most MPs and some of the public will already be familiar with: we are having to make tricky decisions because the Tories left us a mess.

The three and a half weeks since the change of government has already been punctuated by new ministers taking to the airwaves to say they are shocked – shocked! – at the state of their departmental budgets. Reeves’ statement was the centrepiece, the culmination, of a carefully honed message.

Related: What are Rachel Reeves’ spending cuts and how do the sums add up?

Such ideas are not easy to fix in public opinion, but if they settle they can be equally hard to shift. Successfully presenting much of Labour’s work as a noble attempt to clear up after the Tories has obvious attractions, and an equally obvious example from recent history.

When David Laws, the Liberal Democrat chief secretary to the Treasury under the coalition government, first arrived at his desk after the 2010 election he found a now infamous note .

In keeping with playful Treasury tradition, Gordon Brown’s chief secretary, Liam Byrne, scribbled a message for his then unknown successor: “Dear chief secretary, I’m afraid there is no money. Kind regards – and good luck! Liam.”

This was a joke from a ministerial team who had helped the UK pull through the 2008 banking crisis. But in a ruthless and vastly effective piece of political messaging, the coalition – and just about every Conservative minister since – pretended it was serious.

Reeves’ attempt to blame the Conservatives for spending cuts now, and possible tax rises in the autumn , is both a tribute to the success of that tactic and a piece of revenge served utterly cold, 14 years on.

Much as the 2010 note gave political cover for austerity, the idea of government books riddled with uncosted projects and illusory savings might also provide leeway for Keir Starmer’s government, heavily hemmed in by its pledge to not pull the main fiscal revenue levers of income tax, national insurance or VAT.

The political tables had already turned since 2010. Many voters deserted the Conservatives because of a sense they had become chaotic, created by having five prime ministers in eight years and reinforced in particular by Liz Truss’s 45-day tenure and her disastrous mini-budget.

Related: Rachel Reeves is pulling off a transparent political manoeuvre. But she’s not entirely wrong | Jonathan Portes

Getting voters to now believe that the Tories effectively gave up on tough decisions, because they knew they would lose the election and it would thus not be their problem, could be even more resonant.

Such ideas are often best expressed as vignettes, and Reeves repeated several, including the image of the recommended 5.5% pay award for teachers sitting for weeks, untouched, on the desk of Gillian Keegan, the outgoing education secretary.

All this is a tricky political manoeuvre, not least because the Conservatives can point to numerous examples of Reeves saying before the election that she knew exactly what she faced.

There is a brutal political battle to come, illustrated in the Commons on Monday as Jeremy Hunt, the shadow chancellor, accused Reeves of wanting to “blame the last Conservative government for tax rises and project cancellations she’s been planning all along”.

Reeves was ready, and is a more pugnacious politician than her public image as a cerebral economist might indicate. “I can understand why members are angry,” she said after Tory MPs shouted “Shame!” as she announced the scrapping of a planned cap on social care. “I am angry, too. The previous government let people down.”

However the narrative lands, there are politically tricky times to come for the government. Announcing cuts is one thing. It will feel all the more real when millions of pensioners don’t get a winter fuel payment, a promised bypass isn’t built, or a new local hospital never gets from blueprint to reality.

All this is arguably inevitable. What is on offer for Labour, if their narrative lands with the public, is being able to fight the election on the basis of “Don’t let the Conservatives wreck the public finances again.” It could be a major advantage – but only if it works.