LIVERPOOL — They arrived divided, they left divided, and the way back is murkier than ever.

On stage at Labour’s annual party conference over four days here, leader Jeremy Corbyn and his MPs pledged to come together after a summer of brutal infighting.

“Every one of us in this hall today knows that we will only get there if we work together,” Corbyn told party members as he brought the conference to a close Wednesday. Influential figures in the party’s other wing, such as Corbyn’s deputy Tom Watson, also pledged to unify for the sake of fighting the Tories.

Behind the scenes, though, Labour remained as riven as ever.

The most public of the summer's brawling — dubbed “trench warfare” by Corbyn — may be over, but the battle has moved elsewhere. The fight to control the party will now play out behind closed doors, as both sides turn their attention to the “holy grail” of political dominance: control of the ruling National Executive Committee — Labour’s politburo that holds the key to power over the biggest mass-membership party in Western Europe.

On Saturday, the ploy to remove Corbyn through a head-on leadership challenge ended with Corbyn winning an even bigger mandate from party members than he had before. His opponents’ new approach — to slowly squeeze him out — is labeled “Project Anaconda.”

One conference, two worlds

This, in reality, was two conferences. The party has cleaved into separate tribes that now aren’t so much attacking each other but rather acting as if the other doesn’t exist.

A group of moderate MPs who had opposed Corbyn could be found during the day at the “London lounge” — a cordoned-off area of the conference, sponsored by Rupert Murdoch’s News UK and organized by PR firm In House Communications, set up by Theresa May’s spin chief, Katie Perrior.

Momentum, the powerful activist group that campaigned to keep Corbyn in the job, hosted a parallel conference at a community arts centre near Liverpool city center.

On Monday night, two days after Corbyn’s thumping win, the moderates crowded into a stuffy room at the Hilton to attend a party hosted by Sky News. Politicians such as Liz Kendall and Chuka Umunna gossiped with the great-and-the-good of Britain’s political media while waiters served champagne from gaudy, gold-colored bottles. Notably absent from the invite-only function: any of the left-wing MPs or operatives from Corbyn’s camp, the people who now control Britain’s main opposition party.

Victorious Corbynites, meanwhile, spent Monday night half-a-mile up the road at an American-themed pub, quietly drinking schooners of craft beer. By 11 p.m., Corbyn himself had retired to his hotel room after a night of stump speeches to trade unionists and party activists.

Warring factions

Over five days, conversations with dozens of MPs, party activists and Corbyn loyalists left an impression of an opposition party that, regardless of political rhetoric, remains divided physically as much as politically. Its warring factions haven’t reconciled and remain suspicious, locked in a continuing battle for control of the party machinery.

“It’s the worst conference I’ve been to,” said one senior Labour aide, who argued it had been a mistake to announce the leadership result on Saturday, the day before the event began. That meant a “divisive tone” hung over the proceedings and divisions “festered.”

The conference should have been Corbyn’s shining moment.

Another senior party operative, from a rival party faction, said the atmosphere in the conference halls had been less hostile than he had expected — but only because Momentum activists held their own event across town. It was, that aide said, comparable to a football tournament where the rowdiest, most drunken supporters are quarantined into a separate “fan zone.”

Although the organizers’ worst fears didn’t materialize — they had braced for angry confrontations — tensions were obvious.

A creeping plan

In a bid to limit Corbyn’s power — or as it was billed “bring the party back together” — Labour MPs came to the conference demanding total control over shadow ministerial appointments, currently the reserve of the leader. Though it carried the added bonus of undermining Corbyn, the real motive was to take back control of three appointments to the NEC, a number of senior party sources said. The party's ruling body, the NEC sets rules for future elections and determines what control the leader has over policy.

While rebel MPs failed to force the measure through, they left Liverpool broadly satisfied with their work hobbling Corbyn, a senior source said.

In two crunch sessions of the NEC, the Labour leader was outmaneuvered. On Monday he failed to stop two extra members being added to the committee, thereby watering down his power. He then lost a vote Tuesday to chose a new chair. The moderate candidate Glenis Willmott defeated the hard-left choice, Andy Kerr.

“It’s Project Anaconda,” one senior Corbyn ally said when asked about the moves. “We don’t want to get bogged down in process — that’s not what any of our members care about. But in order to do the type of things we were elected to do, we need the power to do them. They’ve lost the leadership, but now want to stop Jeremy doing everything he was elected to do.”

“Everything is about the NEC,” said one senior Labour source outside the Corbyn camp. “Control of the NEC is the holy grail. They think once they have that, then they have total control.”

In the back room of the Liverpool Yacht Club on Tuesday night, one of Corbyn’s closest allies, Jon Lansman, laid out the hard left's grievances at a meeting of the Campaign for Labour Party Democracy. Lansman complained that Labour MPs had “attacked Jeremy, bullied Jeremy, abused Jeremy.” And this week’s maneuverings on the NEC were “quite deliberate” moves to undermine the leader, he said.

However, while Corbyn lost the week’s battle for control of the party machine, Lansman insisted he would win the war. “Comrades,” he said, “we’ve got a great challenge ahead of us. But this is the best opportunity that we socialists in the party have had in our lifetimes. Let’s make sure we use it.”

'A comedy of errors'

The conference should have been Corbyn’s shining moment: a chance, after a crushing victory, to consolidate control of the party, build bridges internally and enter a new political season with a fresh, more positive narrative. But the party’s prospects continue to be undermined by an air of amateurism and internal strife.

That was illustrated on Monday when Clive Lewis, the party’s defense spokesman, and one of the few MPs loyal to Corbyn, discovered on stage as he got ready to deliver a speech that a line about nuclear weapons had been changed at the last minute.

Seumas Milne, Corbyn’s spin doctor, had edited Lewis’s remarks on the autocue, watering down a section about the renewal of the Trident nuclear defence system. Lewis, coming off stage afterwards, punched a wall in frustration.

It was, a former Labour adviser said, indicative of a disorganized and chaotic operation around a leader who has barely improved after a year in the job.

Another example: a briefing of senior journalists the night before Corbyn’s keynote address was handled not by Milne but delegated to a junior member of the press team. The inexperienced aide was sent out to defend a controversial position on immigration to a room of some of London’s most experienced political reporters.

Another Labour aide described the situation as “a comedy of errors.”

Corbyn’s team had “months and months” to prepare for the conference knowing that Corbyn was likely to win — and overwhelmingly, said one operative. But “they didn’t make the most of their moment.”

A divisive figure

One continuing source of discontent is Corbyn’s closest political ally, shadow chancellor John McDonnell.

The combative economic spokesman remains a deeply divisive and unpopular figure, blamed by many in the party for stoking the acrimonious climate. McDonnell comes across in media appearances as a calm, wise, avuncular figure. "His Uncle John routine has been very effective," an adviser to an MP said. Behind the scenes, though, he is seen as an uncompromising political hardliner who is angling for the leadership.

In one conversation with a member of Corbyn’s inner circle, it emerged that Corbyn has been urged by people around him to jettison his old friend for the sake of party unity. McDonnell is now the “major block” to the party coming together after Corbyn’s reelection, the source told POLITICO.

In various other conversations, party insiders accused McDonnell’s team of being behind negative briefings and leaks to journalists. One source of lingering animosity was the leak last month of a so-called “hit list” of MPs who had spoken publicly against Corbyn. It emerged on the same day Corbyn had one of his best performances against the Tories in the House of Commons, ruining what should have been a rare day of positive headlines for the leader. McDonnell’s team was blamed for the list.

A source close to McDonnell denied using the media to undermine rivals or burnish the shadow chancellor’s reputation and said the party insiders who complained were merely jealous of McDonnell’s close relationship with Corbyn.

“Anyone in the know knows that John Mac is doing his fucking best to pull things together,” the person said.

Corbyn, for his part, has shown no sign that he’s willing to offer McDonnell’s head as a gesture of peace. “He’s not that sort of person,” a former Labour insider said. “He follows the path of least resistance.”

Back in the USSR

On the last night of the conference, McDonnell, Corbyn and other senior figures attended a late-night party hosted by the Daily Mirror, a Labour-supporting tabloid. Held in a dingy bar in Liverpool’s historic docks area, politicians, aides and journalists strained to hear each other as a band played Beatles covers.

Guests waiting in line outside were held behind the cordon as Sadiq Khan, the Mayor of London, entered the bar with a large entourage in tow. After stopping to pose for numerous selfies, Khan and his aides settled at the back of the bar within spitting distance of McDonnell and his acolytes. Neither group seemed to acknowledge the other.

Close to midnight, Corbyn arrived and was ushered through a back door and greeted by the Mirror’s editor and chief executive. Corbyn then addressed the crowded dance floor from a flight of stairs: “We don’t know when the election will be, but it could be pretty soon. Indeed, we want it pretty soon.”

As Corbyn made his way past the Beatles impersonators, one MP who has been openly critical of Corbyn, Michael Dugher, shouted: “Play ‘Back in the USSR!”