Politics: the start of a process

29/04/2021

Although in 1931, the notorious gangster Al Capone was dubbed as "Public Enemy No.1", the federal authorities were unable to convict him for his more obvious criminal activities. Changing tactics, therefore, they charged him with 22 counts of tax evasion. He was eventually convicted on five counts and sentenced to 11 years in a federal prison.

Even if the parallel with Boris Johnson is not obvious, it is there. With this prime minister, there are many reasons why he should be taken down, but doing so has proved elusive. So, if needs must, the equivalent of tax evasion will suffice. If that means "Cash for curtains", so be it. Any reason is good enough.

As it stands, though, opinion is divided on that. There are those, who are pretending the issue doesn't matter, including Johnson – who asserts of Starmer's attempts to divine the truth: "I think people will find it absolutely bizarre that he is focusing on this issue, when what people want to know is what plans a Labour Government might have to improve the lives of people in this country".

On the other hand, there are those who know that this issue is important, albeit at several levels. Starmer, quite evidently, sees in it a political opportunity which he can exploit – which, after all, is what oppositions tend to do. But that does not rule out an appeal to higher principles.

In this case, this means the Nolan principles, which – as Starmer pointed out - are meant to govern the behaviour of those in public office. Spelling them out, one by one, he kindly reminded us that they were: selflessness, integrity, objectivity, accountability, openness, honesty and leadership.

Dwelling lovingly on "honesty", with a pause more pregnant than Johnson's paramour had been, he asked the inevitable rhetorical question, in the context one that to which there was less chance of getting an answer than Roland Rat flying to the moon unaided.

"What do we get from this Prime Minister and this Conservative Government?", Starmer asked. For want of an answer, he provided his own: "Dodgy contracts, jobs for their mates and cash for access".

This called for a second dose of rhetoric, where we were to learn of the author of this corrupt mess: none other than Major Sleaze, by which means Starmer promoted the prime minister to a rank above that which Johnson had awarded him, when he dubbed the leader of the opposition, Captain Hindsight.

And Captain Hindsight wanted Major Sleaze to be a prime minister that the British people could trust. They did not deserve a Government "mired in sleaze, cronyism and scandal".

Then, with Johnson already blindsided by an announcement from the Electoral Commission that they were to carry out an investigation into the "Cash for curtains" affair, Starmer was able to refer to the Cabinet Secretary, who had also been asked to investigate who had paid for the refurbishment of the flat. "Why doesn’t the Prime Minister just tell him?", Starmer asked. "That would be the end of the investigation". It is hard to fault that logic.

It is fair to record that, by the end of PMQs, during which these exchanges took place, Johnson was not a particularly happy bunny, showing raw edges which had Starmer's "jubilant aides" crowing of a "Kevin Keegan" moment.

It is also fair to say that Johnson could have killed Starmer's line of questioning stone dead, had he answered the question he was determined not to answer: "Who made the initial payment to settle the invoice presented by the Cabinet Office for the excess costs?"

But then, if Johnson answered that honestly, he would be in a shit-load of other troubles, having failed to declare a donation (or loan). This puts him in Mandelson territory, opening him up to calls for his resignation.

And cutting to the chase, this is why this issue – on its own merits – does matter. There is no bar to a serving prime minister receiving either donations or loans from benefactors. But there are strict (and hitherto unbreakable) rules on transparency. The recipient must declare them which, on the face of it, Johnson hasn't done. And if he hasn't, by past precedent, this should require him to resign.

At a political level, a prime minister in peril of imminent resignation is significant – and the apparent triviality of the issues, characterised by the "Cash for curtains" label, isn't relevant. The very nature of our (much-tarnished) democracy demands that prime ministers are up-front about who gives them money, and for what purposes. On the face of it, Johnson has breached the rules. He must be called to account.

For all its venality, I think the media have grasped that essential point. Journalists may revel in the biff-bam and the soap opera, but there are core principles at stake.

One person who has most definitely got the point is Rafael Behr. It's a pity he writes for the Guardian because what he has to say is timeless, and utterly damning. Just for his opening, he writes:

Instead of a cabinet, Britain has courtiers. In place of a prime minister, there is a potentate. The traditional structures still exist, but as tributes to an obsolescent way of governing. There are still secretaries of state. But their place in the formal, constitutional hierarchy has little bearing on real power, which swirls in an unstable vortex of advisers and officials vying for proximity to Boris Johnson's throne.

The product of this arrangement is the acrid stew of scandal leaking out of Downing Street – a mixture of financial irregularities, reckless statecraft and vendetta, some of it involving the prime minister's fiancee, just to complete the impression of Byzantine intrigue.

No 10 has always had informal cliques and "kitchen cabinets". Prime ministers have commonly trusted advisers more than ministers. Alastair Campbell was a mythic enforcer of Tony Blair's will when Dominic Cummings was splashing around at the political shallow end, advising (and inevitably betraying) Iain Duncan Smith.

That, in itself, paints a dire picture, but Behr goes on to sketch out three reasons why the current situation is "unprecedented". Going through the failure of Johnson's Brexit; and the surrender of parliamentary power and government taking "quasi-authoritarian control during the pandemic; he then broaches the character of Johnson himself.

The prime minister, Behr writes, "approaches truth the way a toddler handles broccoli. He understands the idea that it contains some goodness, but it will touch his lips only if a higher authority compels it there". He is "driven by a restless sense of his own entitlement to be at the apex of power and a conviction, supported by evidence gathered on his journey to the top, that rules are a trap to catch weaker men and honour is a plastic trophy that losers award themselves in consolation for unfulfilled ambition".

Having such a personality at the heart of government makes a nonsense of unwritten protocol, Behr points out. "Much of British politics proceeds by the observance of invisible rails guarding against the tyrannical caprices that formal constitutions explicitly prohibit". Where there should be boundaries, Johnson has none.

Downing Street, in Behr's view: "is now a machine for generating vindictive enmity. Energies that should be spent on policy are consumed settling scores and lighting new fires to fight old ones".

Worryingly, but accurately, he asserts that this is not a phase, nor is it an accident. It is a new mode of government being improvised because events flattened the old way. The court of King Boris combines the zealotry of a revolution with the conceit of an empire and the probity of gangsters.

It is hard to predict, he concludes, how long such a regime can last, but two things can be forecast with confidence: the fall will be messy, and few who cheer Johnson today will boast of having done so once he is gone.

And that, I would judge, are the only certainties to emerge from this current crisis – for that it is. And, if this crisis does not cause the downfall of Johnson, there will be another one behind, which will have similar potential. And, if that doesn't bring him down, there will be another one. Eventually, King Boris will fall.

We are, I think, seeing the start of a process. And, in the manner of a Greek tragedy, the outcome is inevitable. Its importance cannot be overstated.

Also published on Turbulent Times.