‘Frivolous to his very core’: Boris Johnson was the worst prime minister in history
It would be a betrayal of everything he puports to stand for if Rishi Sunak did not bury the rotten Johnson regime and its flatulent rhetoric for ever, writes Anthony Seldon
Shock horror. Prime ministers have been liars throughout history! The first, and still the longest-serving example, Robert Walpole, set the tone, bribing indiscriminately and treating truth as if it was a tool, not an absolute.
But that was the 18th century. They did things differently. Since then, prime ministers have at least tried to be honest, and moral, and to take the job of being the most senior politician in the country seriously. Until Boris Johnson took office in 2019.
Britain has certainly had its liars and distorters of the truth since Walpole was in Downing Street. David Lloyd George, in the early 20th century, was never unduly troubled by truth or morality. Anthony Eden was, but even he dissembled over British policy in the Suez crisis of 1956, as many believe Tony Blair did over the imminence of the threat posed by Saddam Hussein in the run-up to the Iraq war in 2003.
So they’re all really as bad as each other? And Johnson is just the latest blaggard, not uniquely bad at all?
Let’s probe deeper.
Lloyd George could be a bad’un, certainly, but he was a figure of massive historical significance, and he served his country vigorously, before, during and after the First World War. So did Eden as foreign secretary, before, during and after the Second World War. Blair may have shown poor judgement over Iraq, and it harmed his reputation severely. But he was still a massive, and mostly moral, force in British politics.
Johnson shared none of their virtues. Walpole, Lloyd George, Eden and Blair were all highly capable, hardworking politicians.
Johnson was never capable, never hardworking – and never even tried to be. He never learnt, never wanted to learn, never accepted there was anything to be learnt about the craft of being a leader. He was frivolous to his very core.
As Johnson was becoming prime minister in 2019, I was completing a book on Britain’s 55 prime ministers to date, in time for the 300th anniversary of the office. I had high hopes that he might leverage his once-in-a-generation gifts of charisma, optimism and ability to reach out way beyond the party faithful to usher in a new era in British politics.
I envisaged how he might tell a story after Brexit about Britain’s special place in the world as a force for good, culture and democracy. I wanted him to promote British culture and arts, to enrich and deepen education in schools and universities, and even to create a ministry of creativity, growth and optimism. To pull it off would have required a strong vision, and the appointment of the very best people who understood Whitehall and Westminster. But it was not impossible.
Instead of doing this, he offered no consistent vision beyond flatulent rhetoric, and he appointed know-nothings while dismissing smart people who would have supported him, just as they had helped him to achieve relative success as London’s mayor.
Result: catastrophe.
For three years, we had the worst, most anarchic and chaotic premiership since Lloyd George created the modern office in 1916. Not just over parties: lies and incompetence permeated every single aspect of Johnson’s domestic and foreign policy.
Why, then, do so many people in the country continue to support him, even to worship him?
The truth is that those closest to him, who knew what he was like, abhorred him even as they abandoned him and brought him down as prime minister last June. In the parliamentary vote on Monday, only seven MPs voted against the privileges committee report that found Johnson had deliberately misled MPs about the lockdown parties at Downing Street.
Never since Walpole has a prime minister been so humiliated. Parliament triumphed. The chief executive was held to account and held responsible by the legislature.
Job done?
Not at all. Johnson’s shameless conduct, coupled with his refusal to take responsibility for his transgressions, has cheapened democracy. Johnson’s brazen disregard for the truth, as he has continued to blame the institutions of government, shows how powerful his post-truth brand of politics is.
His almost total lack of respect for people was new for someone holding the office of prime minister. People who argued against him, even in his own party and cabinet – especially, indeed, in his own party and cabinet – were dismissed by him as “c***s”. He didn’t judge people, policies and proposals on their objective merits, but on how he felt about them, and whether they would benefit him personally.
His rejection of the privileges committee as a “kangaroo court” wasn’t based on the facts but on what he thought he could get away with. What he imagined his cheerleaders, in the country and in the media, would applaud.
Johnson’s arrival on the national stage of British politics coincided with Donald Trump’s arrival in the White House. In Johnson’s two years as foreign secretary, he wanted to emulate Trump, in thrall to his ability to communicate with the country at large.
He pulled back on the love affair when he entered No 10, concluding that the president was “thick”. But since he stepped down from No 10, he has come to resemble Trump more in his ignoring of the truth, and in his blatant lying about his own behaviour.
For all of parliament’s conclusive humiliation of Johnson, the damage done to British institutions and the fabric of public life will linger on, not least because the prime minister did not give a clear moral lead on the Johnson saga.
Rishi Sunak came to power promising a new era of ethical standards. He needs now to stand up and show us he meant what he said, and that the rotten Johnson regime is buried for ever.
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