LONDON – I have always resisted comparisons between Boris Johnson and Donald Trump. Not anymore.
It is true that the British Prime Minister did not try to stay in power by instructing his supporters to rage the Houses of Parliament. He has so far made no false claims that he was cheated out of office. But there was nevertheless something Trumpian about the way he tried to avoid being deported.
Even after going over some of them main allies — including the finance minister and the health minister, usually more than enough to oust a prime minister — he refused to budge. As more layoffs were announced, the defiant message was that he intended to fight it out. It wasn’t until the layoffs started rolling in that he decided the… game was over† He was probably the last person in Westminster to realize it.
The manner of his departure speaks volumes about the man. He has always acted, like Mr. Trump, as if the rules didn’t apply to him. Facts are ignored when they are inconvenient, or brushed aside altogether. Nothing is more important to him than himself. Anything or anyone can be sacrificed for it – friends, family, colleagues, party, government. No other prime minister in the long history of British parliamentary democracy has been so willing to sacrifice the governance of the nation to save his own skin. That is Mr Johnson’s remarkable achievement.
The reasons for his departure also tell you a lot about the man. Throughout his scorching private and public life and successful careers as a journalist and politician, he was dogged by charges of cheating and dishonesty. Usually for good reason.
Until he became prime minister, this was often excused (as allies often excuse Mr. Trump). It was just Boris who was Boris. He was a bit of a character in a dull world of identikit politicians, so you had to accept the rough with the smooth. Yes, he was frugal with the truth – a euphemism for lying – but he made people laugh. He didn’t mean any harm. He was a good guy. He liked a cheerful jape.
The conservatives knew its flaws. They didn’t know what he stood for (it depended on the audience and the time of day). But she didn’t care. They chose him as leader because he was a vote-winning machine. He won the Brexit referendum in 2016 and the first three years later impressive Tory majority since Margaret Thatcher’s landslide in 1987. He appealed to poorer voters in regions who had never dreamed of voting for Tory.
For such gains, the Tories were willing to forgive much. But at the height of government, under the watch of a dogged media, deceit and dishonesty are harder to hide or excuse.
When stories circulated that 10 Downing Street, the Prime Minister’s official residence, had in fact become the British settlement party central during the lockdown, it wasn’t just the injustice that started to turn opinions against him. It was also the typical obfuscation and outright lies that followed.
Mr Johnson denied that there had been any parties. (Over there were 16, some late into the night.) Okay, but they played by the rules, he insisted. (They hadn’t; dozens of partygoers had to pay) police fines, including mr. Johnson.) He wasn’t really involved, he claimed. (Photographic) proof and the testimony of his own aides suggested otherwise.) Mr. Johnson eventually took refuge in a phrase he has long used as a last resort: I was misled and ill advised by my team. It’s never his fault.
It all reminded him that boasting and lies had always been his modus operandi. Almost every week seemed to bring a new scandal, mostly trivial – about who paid? gold wallpaper in his Downing Street apartment or a planned $180,000 Treehouse in his official country residence – but all this reinforced and prolonged by his consistent refusal to give clear answers.
Things came to a head over the past week about an ally accused, not for the first time, of making inappropriate sexual advances towards young men. Mr Johnson claimed he knew nothing of the allegations when he appointed him to, ironically, oversee the discipline and welfare of the party. It wasn’t true. The defenses quickly crumbled and the denials were hastily withdrawn.
Once again, ministers briefed by Mr Johnson’s aides for the daily round of broadcast interviews found that the “party line” they had taken within hours or, worse, when they still in the air† The shame was complete. Rather than a unique electoral asset, the prime minister had become an electoral obligation. The last reason to stay with him was gone.
Mr Johnson will go down in the history books, for better or for worse, for delivering Brexit – although even that has to be qualified. The deal that he said was “oven-ready” turned out to be half-baked, as the folks at… Northern Ireland, left without government, can testify. Mr. Johnson can be quick and loose with the truth about matters both large and small.
He did, however, use the Brexit freedoms to lead the way in developing a vaccine against the pandemic. But that only made up for the often catastrophic handling of Covid by his government in the early months. And he has been curiously silent about what other benefits we can expect from Brexit. His government, meanwhile, is bereft of economic policies, even as the cost of living rises.
He fared better with Ukraine, where the Russian invasion created an opening for his Churchillian pretensions and lent itself to his broad approach. But in Britain, its popularity plummeted†
There are people who told us he would change. He was intelligent, gifted, privileged. He would grow up, settle in the job. Many wanted it, including me. But that would never happen. As even Mr Johnson has said, what you see is what you get. He cannot help himself and he cannot change.
At least he did resignalbeit with visible reluctance and a hint of clumsiness. Still, it’s a bit disconcerting to think he will remain prime minister for the next few months. For while the degradation he has spread through the country’s democracy may not reach the Trumpian level, whoever takes it over is in for a major shock. Boris Johnson has been worse than you might think.