One of the more surprising things
about Boris Johnson’s performance yesterday was that he had spent several days
rehearsing what to say and being coached about his answers. I dread to think
how he would have performed otherwise. Whether we actually learned a lot that
was new is another question; that a compulsive liar would lie about whether he
had lied or not was a given from the outset. I have a smidgen of sympathy with
his bewilderment at the fact that he was fined for attending his own birthday
celebration whereas others present were not, but my bewilderment is not, like
his, about why he was fined, but rather about why others, particularly those who organised the occasion, weren’t. Indeed, the
whole approach of the Met to who was fined, who wasn’t and for what – and even as
to who was or was not sent a questionnaire – seems to have been a largely
random process. It’s a randomness for which he should be thankful, rather than
critical; a more thorough approach would have seen the fixed penalty notices
piling up on his doormat. After this week’s findings that the Metropolitan
Police are institutionally misogynistic and homophobic as well as racist, it
seems that we can add ‘incompetent’ to the charge sheet.
His defence, such as it was,
to the charge of misleading the House of Commons was that he genuinely believed
what he was saying to be true at the time: he genuinely believed that the rules
and guidance which he put in place allowed everything that happened in Downing
Street. In part it’s a very brave defence. Claiming that he was too stupid to
understand his own rules might get him off the charge of misleading the
Commons, but it hardly polishes his image as a man expecting to return to the
top job. But he’s also trying to exploit a loophole: since part of the ‘guidance’
was, according to him, that people should ‘adapt’ the guidance as necessary to
their particular circumstances, that was what he was doing. It's just that his ‘adaptations’
meant basically ignoring everything else in the guidance. That, one might say,
is some loophole. We might even call it 'Loophole 22', since there is never any
way in which anyone can break the guidance.
Overwhelmingly, though, what
came across was someone who still doesn’t get it. He really does not understand
why those who faithfully did as they were told should be in any way surprised
or upset to find that he did something completely different. He’s always been
special and different – the rules which apply to the common herd have never
applied to him in the past and shouldn’t now. Indeed, even the rules under
which he was being questioned shouldn’t apply to him – he more or less managed
to say that he will accept the fairness of the process and the outcome only if,
and to the extent that, it agrees that he is an entirely honest man.
The committee isn’t really
investigating the gatherings in Downing Street at all; those gatherings are
merely the underlying issue on which they have to decide whether he was, or was
not, in contempt of parliament. They are working to a technical definition of
that term, and it is for the committee members to determine whether the
relevant criteria have been met or not, i.e. whether his misleading of the
House was inadvertent, reckless, or intentional. However, in the wider sense of
the word contempt, it was pretty obvious yesterday that he feels little but
contempt for the committee and its members. Indeed, he seems to feel little but
contempt for MPs, whether as individuals or a group, for the institutions of government,
for the normal rules of political debate, for honesty and truthfulness, for the
electorate at large – in fact for anything and anybody that isn’t Boris
Johnson. Strangely, it’s still possible that, on the very narrow subset of his
contempt for which he was being held to account, the members of the committee
could still conclude that it was reckless at worst. But he surely did more
than enough yesterday to rule out any possibility of inadvertence.
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