October 5, 2024 - 9:30am

A man cheated of his rightful, glorious legacy by mere circumstance — this was the anguished self-portrait Boris Johnson painted in an interview with ITV’s Tom Bradby last night, projecting a relaxed but scrappy unrepentance, peppered with the rhetorical flourish with which we are so familiar.

There was no mea culpa from this latinate literarian over Number 10 lockdown frivolities, questions over his ethics and standards, and actual policy outcomes. Instead, we saw Boris pine longingly for a forgotten erstwhile future. It’s obvious — he would do almost anything to have had more time in Downing Street. “We barely got going,” he lamented.

Unsubtly scheduled to launch just days before the Tory leadership finalists are chosen by the parliamentary Conservative Party, Johnson’s new book, Unleashed, is an unabashed sales pitch for his brand of conservatism and an apologia of his eventful three-year premiership. His message to MPs and party members considering how to vote in this leadership election was clear: I was a winner, do as I did.

“Get back to the winning agenda that we had,” he said. “In 2019, we put together an enormous coalition of people. What we did wrong was turn our backs on two vast sectors of our coalition, and we need to get them back.” He managed to resist the tempting news line of backing a specific candidate, while not denying that Robert Jenrick’s throaty rejection of the ECHR met with his approval.

Gifted the interview after the BBC’s Laura Kuenssberg accidentally sent her preparatory notes to Johnson, ITV’s Tom Bradby was stylistically free to appeal with emotion-laden exasperation at the former PM over the Number 10 lockdown frivolities. In his own book Johnson described the “grovelling” and “pathetic” apologies he made at the time as a mistake, but he offered little contrition when pressured to the viewers at home.

“I think that the blanket apology — the sort of apology I issued right at the beginning — I think the trouble with it was that afterwards, all the accusations that then rained down on officials who’d been working very hard in Number 10 and elsewhere were thought to be true,” he said. “And by apologising I had sort of inadvertently validated the entire corpus and it wasn’t fair on those people”. Through these remarks, he neatly deflected from how criticism has been almost entirely levelled at his leadership, and how he managed and oversaw a devil-may-care Number 10 operation that broke the very regulations it drafted. If the Prime Minister is not accountable for the culture and conduct of Downing Street, who is?

In the end, Johnson was brought back down to earth by a combination of the public becoming aware of the lockdown parties, successive scandals over propriety and ethics, basic operational political and policy competence — and the survival instinct of his colleagues, who were watching plummeting polling that pre-dated both Liz Truss and Rishi Sunak. His Cabinet and ministers resigned en masse, and as he acknowledged in his resignation speech: “The herd instinct is powerful and when the herd moves, it moves.”

Yet in being deposed so early, Boris has been saved from his own ego. By never truly being tested under conditions he would consider fair, the case for introspection, learning and personal growth can simply be disregarded. A horseshoe bat in China flapped its wings, and the rightful claimant to the prime ministerial throne was overthrown.

How ironic for the biographer of Churchill that Johnson so confidently rejected the idea that leaders are “meretricious bubbles on the vast tides of social history”. Churchill, he claimed, was a “withering retort to all that malarkey. He, and he alone, made the difference.” Well, Boris, doesn’t your ephemeral Number 10 legacy render you a meretricious bubble?


James Sean Dickson is an analyst and journalist who Substacks at Himbonomics.

Gaylussite