The sad news emerged yesterday that Boris Johnson had resigned as an MP, in a devastating blow to the future productivity of writers of mildly humorous satirical opinion pieces. On the other hand, it was a positive development for anyone who cares about traditional values in British politics, such as truth, integrity, accountability, professionalism, and hairdressing. Still, Johnson normally loses jobs by being sacked for lying, so it makes a nice change for him to resign for lying instead.
Personally, I always found it remarkable that anyone considered it a good idea for Johnson to be given any sort of responsible job, let alone prime minister. The only bigger mystery – as anyone who watched the Europa league final will agree – is why any sports broadcasters think it’s a good idea to employ Robbie Savage. If I were BT Sport, I’d be changing my identity too.
It was only the day before Johnson’s resignation that it was reported that Rishi Sunak had agreed to pass the ex-PM’s honours list, apparently because it would help heal the rift between the two men and allow Sunak to concentrate on government without Johnson sniping from the wings. So, how’s that working out?
Making a mockery of kakistocracy
Johnson of course departed in the same way he had operated while in power, spouting the usual load of nonsense and untruths. Having received the findings of the privileges committee into whether he had misled parliament about the numerous parties in Downing Street during lockdown, Johnson issued a resignation letter complaining about anyone and everything. He suggested that it had been “the very definition of a kangaroo court”, which may at least explain why he jumped before he was pushed.
Johnson also declared that he had been “forced out, anti-democratically”. He perhaps forgot that the report still had to be voted on by MPs in the Commons (where the Tories have an 80-seat majority); that his defence had been funded by the public to the tune of more than £250,000; that there would then need to be a recall vote by his constituency; and depending on that result there may be a by-election. But sure, let’s go with “anti-democratic”.
Johnson complained that he had “no formal ability to challenge anything they [the privileges committee] say”, which makes you wonder why all that public money has gone to his lawyers. Maybe he just had the wrong lawyers. After all, we’ve had the slightly unexpected sight this week of Brian Harvey from East 17 advising Prince Harry to sack his lawyers and offering to help him in their place. (And by the way, congratulations to anyone who had that in their predictions for 2023.)
Mind you, it could certainly liven up proceedings if high profile legal cases had to use ex-members of boybands for legal advice. Johnson could have been defended by Take That’s Jason Orange. And when the government brings its judicial review of the remit of the Covid enquiry, those lads from Blue could help – they seemed to be showing off their legal expertise in All Rise. What’s Duncan James up to at the moment?
The truth will set you free, but it will make you miserable first
The sad thing about Johnson’s resignation statement was the misguided, petulant belief that the privileges committee should believe him simply because he said he was telling the truth. “When I spoke in the Commons,” Johnson said, “I was saying what I believed sincerely to be true”. But then, as others have noted before, Johnson apparently does think he is telling the truth at any given moment, even when he is patently not doing so. “They have not produced a shred of evidence that I knowingly or recklessly misled the Commons,” he added. Obviously that doesn’t include the photos of Johnson himself at the parties; and all the emails and messages about parties; and the 126 police fines that were issued. Okay, maybe just the odd shred of evidence then.
Shortly before Johnson’s letter dropped, the list of those granted honours from last year’s prime ministerial resignation was published. There was the usual cronyism: knighthood for Jacob Rees-Mogg, anyone? Lordship for Ben Houchen, the Tees Valley mayor, currently under scrutiny amid allegations of “corruption, wrongdoing and illegality”? CBEs for various advisers (et tu, Guto?). But the biggest surprise was an MBE for Johnson’s parliamentary hairdresser – I mean, who knew that anyone did his hair?
But perhaps Johnson isn’t prepared to ride off into the sunset just yet. He finished his resignation letter by saying that he was “very sad to be leaving Parliament – at least for now”. Maybe there’s still hope for satirists yet.
