Boris Johnson is an honest man. It’s possible to tell from the sheer number of times he’s asserted his honesty. In his written submission to the Committee of MPs investigating whether he had deliberately misled Parliament about Partygate, the word ‘honest’ appeared some 20 times in one form or another. In a three-hour hearing on March 22, he offered even more honesty, even “hand on heart” at one point. And hardly anything speaks more for honesty than when you affirm your honesty about 20 times in two days.
Mr Johnson first came to national attention in a BBC comedy show called Have I Got News for You. Watch it now and these episodes feel more like prophecy: the Privilege Committee with claps. Everything is there: the hair; the din the allegations of misconduct. And of course honesty. When asked about an alleged crime at the time, he replied, “Honestly, I don’t remember.”
It didn’t matter. He was so funny, so blond, so charismatic. As the show’s then-host said, “everyone will love you.” And much of Britain did – as an MP, then as Mayor of London, then all the way down to Downing Street. And Mr Johnson loved Britain back, so much so that he became the first British Prime Minister whose exact number of children is unknown.
The crime now seems to be drawing to a close. The committee hearing was another panel, another show. But the mood of Have I Got Pixellated Photos For You was less upbeat. The boisterous gatherings at Downing Street during lockdown are known as the Partygate scandal. But the aura of the hearing was pure hangover. Mr. Johnson’s mood oscillated between irritation (“utter nonsense,” he spat at one point) and the kind of rueful abstinence that follows overindulgence. A man who once said he’s a cake-eating professional emphasized that at his 2020 birthday party, “the cake stayed in its Tupperware box.”
Mr Johnson tried a little bonhomie: He spoke of “electric force fields” and “motley corridors”. But his audience was less interested in motley corridors than in pages 30, 40, and 41 of the bundle of evidence: may he refer to them? Most of all, they pointed him to the photos—a whole appendix of embarrassment, with bottles of wine and chips and a regrettable diner on a silver platter.
There were other unfortunate lessons for Mr Johnson from all of this. If the committee decides against him, he can start a process that will end with his departure from Parliament. But whatever his verdict, he looks finished. MPs approved the Northern Ireland deal brokered by Rishi Sunak on the day he fended off questions about alcohol and bucks. His poll failed; his chances of reaching political heights again are slim. He might admit that if he were honest with himself. ■