Before he makes a comeback, we should remind ourselves of why he had to go in the first place, argues Mike Phipps
Boris Johnson’s problems began to become serious about a year ago at the Conservative Party Conference. Even the right-wing think tank Adam Smith Institute described his keynote address as “bombastic but vacuous and economically illiterate”. Mainstream media pundits found it lightweight and based on false claims, while business leaders queued up to condemn Johnson for putting crowd-pleasing restrictions on foreign labour ahead of the needs of the UK economy.
There was more bad news for the government when a cross-party report by Parliament’s Health and Science Select Committees found that a “deliberate policy” pursued by ministers and government officials to take a “slow and gradualist approach” to the Covid pandemic in its early stages led to a higher initial death toll.
On October 27th, the government’s mini-budget failed to address the rising cost of living crisis. Johnson’s promises to ‘level up’ the UK took a further hit in November when the government announced it was dropping its plan to extend the controversial high speed rail link HS2 to Leeds, as well as abandoning its promise to build Northern Powerhouse Rail, a new line from Manchester to Leeds. In northern ‘red wall’ seats, some of which had been taken by the Conservatives in the 2019 general election, there was a discernible sense of betrayal.
Later that month, the prime minster faced widespread mockery for a rambling address to the Confederation of British Industry, in which he lost his place in his notes for over 20 seconds and ad-libbed about a visit to Peppa Pig World. What might have been a trivial incident, had it been an isolated one, raised more serious concerns. Astonishingly, a senior Downing Street source – from within Johnson’s own government – told the BBC: “Business was really looking for leadership today and it was shambolic.”
But what really finished off Johnson was a series of corruption scandals – alleged secret donations that had paid for the refurbishment of his Downing Street apartment; a report by the Electoral Commission which found there were “serious failings in the party’s compliance systems” and fined the Conservative Party over £17,000; Johnson’s refusal to declare in the House of Commons register of members’ interests a luxury holiday donation from Tory peer Zac Goldsmith.
Then a fiasco entirely of the government’s own making: the Owen Patterson scandal. The cross-party Commons Committee on Standards in Public Life had concluded that the Conservative backbench MP’s improper lobbying of ministers and officials constituted an “egregious” case that had brought Parliament into disrepute and recommended that Patterson should be suspended for 30 days. Yet Conservative whips instructed their MPs to ignore the proposal and forced the vote through to the anger of many MPs, only for the government to U-turn a day later amid rising public outrage at the government’s apparent attempt to cover up corruption. Patterson resigned from Parliament.
By late November, the Tory poll lead had evaporated and Johnson’s own ratings were at record lows. Then on December 1st the Daily Mirror reported on the first of the notorious Downing Street lockdown parties held nearly a year earlier, complete with video footage of Johnson’s spokesperson Allegra Stratton laughing as she rehearsed her possible responses to questions about the event.
Pictures emerged of a new gathering on the Downing Street garden terrace and the Mirror produced evidence of yet another rule-breaking party, this time at Conservative Party HQ. Overall, it would emerge that over a dozen parties were held on government premises during lockdown.
As I argue in my book, Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow (OR Books, 2022): “Unlike previous accusations of sleaze, these revelations had real cut-through. The idea that the prime minster had been holding illegal festivities at a time when most people were unable to visit elderly relatives in care homes or attend the funerals of loved ones appeared monstrous. The outrage went beyond the Westminster bubble and was even felt in the unusual arenas of light entertainment and sport, with I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! presenters Ant and Dec ‘skewering’ Boris Johnson over the allegations and darts fans chanting and displaying anti-Johnson messages at a packed international championship in north London.“
In the by-election in North Shropshire in mid-December, triggered by the resignation of Owen Patterson, the Liberal Democrats won by 6,000 votes in a rock-solid Conservative seat, held by the Tories in 2019 with over 62% of the vote. At this point, even Johnson’s own supporters began to desert him. “One more strike and he’s out,” warned veteran Tory MP Sir Roger Gale.
Meanwhile the pandemic was resurgent. The government doggedly refused to modify its strategy amid signs of a major meltdown in the health service, with several health trusts declaring “critical incidents.” It was widely believed that the government’s refusal to introduce stricter public health measures had been influenced by rebellious backbench MPs, 99 of whom voted in mid-December against new steps to stem the spread of the Omicron variant. It was the biggest backbench rebellion the government had faced, and the measures passed only with Opposition support.
Stories of government corruption surrounded the pandemic as well, with the high court ruling in January 2022 that the government’s operation of a “VIP lane” to award billions of pounds worth of contracts to suppliers of personal protective equipment during the coronavirus pandemic was illegal.
In response to the uproar over allegations of illegal Downing Street parties, Johnson was forced to set up an internal inquiry and apologise to Parliament for having attended, apparently unaware it was an unlawful social gathering. This feeble excuse was mocked by his opponents and led to calls for his resignation from prominent Conservatives, including its Scottish leader. Two days later, Downing Street was forced to issue an apology to the Queen for holding two more parties during lockdown on the eve of the funeral of the Duke of Edinburgh.
Then news broke of a surprise birthday party that had been held for Johnson during lockdown, once more in breach of the rules. “Try spinning that as a work meeting,” said one Westminster reporter.
Metropolitan Police commissioner Cressida Dick announced that the police would investigate “a number of events” – twelve in total – held in Downing Street and Whitehall during coronavirus lockdowns. When an interim internal investigation by civil servant Sue Gray was published the following month, it found “failures of leadership and judgment” in No 10.
It was time for the rats to start leaving the sinking ship. Within a few hours, four Downing Street officials announced their resignation. They included Chief of Staff Dan Rosenfield and Communications chief Jack Doyle. His replacement described Boris Johnson as “not a complete clown” in an interview published after he took up his new position.
In April, Boris Johnson – and Rishi Sunak, let’s nor forget – were issued with fixed-penalty notices as a result of the Metropolitan Police investigation into illegal social gatherings. This made Johnson the first sitting Prime Minister to receive a criminal sanction for breaking the law in office. In May’s local elections, the Tories lost 487 seats.
Later that month, Sue Gray’s final report into Downing Street parties was published. Its conclusions were damning, not just over the illegal parties themselves, where it cited “failures of leadership and judgment in No 10” but also “multiple examples of a lack of respect and poor treatment of security and cleaning staff.”
In June, Johnson was booed by royalists as he attended a platinum jubilee thanksgiving service at St Paul’s Cathedral. Two days later, he survived a House of Commons vote of no confidence, with 148 of his own MPs voting against him.
Later that month, Johnson’s ethics advisor resigned, the second in two years. The Conservative lost two by-elections, Tiverton and Honiton to the Lib Dems on a massive swing, and Wakefield to Labour. Tory Party Chairman Oliver Dowden resigned and grandees like former leader Michael Howard began calling on Johnson to go. Johnson meanwhile declared he was looking forward to a second and third term.
In the end, it was a completely different scandal that constituted the final straw for Johnson’s premiership. When Deputy Chief Whip Chris Pincher resigned and had the party whip withdrawn after groping two men in a club while very drunk, the focus switched to how much Johnson knew about Pincher’s past behaviour before appointing him to a government post. No 10 denied that Boris Johnson was aware of specific complaints, but, this line fell apart after top civil servant Lord McDonald unprecedentedly accused Downing Street of not telling the truth. He stated that Johnson was briefed “in person” about a “formal complaint” into Pincher’s conduct as early as 2019.
Caught out, Jonson admitted on July 5th that he had been told – but had forgotten. Ministers who had earlier defended him were fuming. At 6pm Health Secretary Sajid Javid and Chancellor Rishi Sunak both resigned from the government, citing issues of integrity. Over the next 24 hours there would be a deluge of resignations.
The next day Levelling-Up Secretary Michael Gove called on Johnson to stand down. Later that evening, Johnson sacked Gove, a Downing Street spokesperson describing him as a “snake”. The following morning after over 50 government resignations, Johnson realised the game was up and quit.
The man with the biggest Tory majority since the Thatcher years had destroyed his own government through entirely self-inflicted injuries born of dishonesty, arrogance and entitlement. Do they really want him back?
Mike Phipps’ new book Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow: The Labour Party after Jeremy Corbyn (OR Books, 2022) can be ordered here.
Image: Boris Johnson resigns. Source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/number10gov/52200049218. Creator: Tim Hammond. Licence: NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)
