Boris Johnson always seemed destined for public office. His paternal great grandfather was the Ottoman politician, Ali Kemal, who was brutishly lynched and publicly hanged during the Turkish war of independence. That he was born deaf made no dent on his ambition. At eight years old, young Boris said his desired was to be ‘world king’. He attended Eton College like many British politicians, and it was there he developed his charismatic and eccentric persona, partly in response to the constant ridicule of his Turkish roots.
At Oxford University, he was friends with, and a contemporary of Michael Gove and Jeremy Hunt. He was elected the Oxford Union president, but was also a member of the exclusive Bullingdon Club with David Cameron— a social group notorious for public vandalism and their display of anti-social behaviour.
After Oxford, he joined The Times, but was sacked for making up a quote and attributing it to his godfather, Colin Lucas. His hubris, a penchant for lying, was beginning to rear its head. At his next gig in journalism, Boris Johnson became even more notorious for falsehoods. He wrote that euro notes made people impotent and that the European Union wanted to impose a standard condom size because Italians had small penises. His articles in The Daily Telegraph fuelled Euroscepticism and damaged the EU’s credibility, but launched him into public consciousness.
Although a gifted and personable character, Boris’ career was defined by an inability to act with integrity. In 1999, he was made the Editor of The Spectator, but it was with an understanding that he would not make a foray into parliamentary politics. Within two years, he was campaigning for the conservative seat of Henley. During the campaign, he promised his constituents that he would resign as Editor of The Spectator—again, he did not.
Then, there were the sexual indiscretions. He was sacked as Shadow Arts Secretary in 2004 for lying about his affair with a co-worker at The Spectator. He was accused of having an affair with American businesswoman, Jennifer Arcuri, but also using his office as the Mayor of London to grant her favours.
Boris Johnson’s ambition always seemed to matter more than his integrity. He developed a reputation for being shifty. In the lead up to the 2016 Brexit referendum, he was said to have written two articles—one explaining his decision to back the remain camp, and the other, to support leaving the EU. Ultimately, Boris Johnson decided that his ambition to be prime minister would be best served by backing the leave vote and opposing his friend, prime minster David Cameron. The campaign that he led was noted for its blatant lies and misinformation.
The obvious question is: why was a flawed character like Boris Johnson elected as prime minister? Apart from his charming charisma, his emergence cannot be dissociated from the global political movement to the right that led to election of leaders like Donald Trump, Jair Bolsonaro, and Matteo Salvini. As a journalist who promoted fake news and misinformation, and someone uncomfortable with truth telling, Boris Johnson was made for that political moment.
Unsurprisingly, Boris Johnson governed the way he lived. Rory Stewart, a former Tory MP described him as “probably the best liar we’ve ever had as a prime minister. He knows a hundred different ways to lie.” As prime minister, he survived several scandals that would have buried any other politician not named Boris. He had a talent for courting controversy, being enmeshed in scandals, but also charming his way out of them.
And although he won last month’s vote of no confidence, it was also clear that he was now on borrowed time. Prime ministers do not generally survive votes of no confidence in the United Kingdom, not even the great Margaret Thatcher did. His elixir had run out. After all, all political lives, unless cut midstream, end in failure as Enoch Powell once famously said.
Boris Johnson, the eccentric and charismatic politician who oversaw the biggest conservative victory in more than thirty years was brought down by his demons he refused to exorcise. He lied once again regarding the allegations of sexual misconduct levelled against his Deputy Chief Whip, Chris Pincher. This time, he would not survive. The resignations of the Chancellor of Exchequer, Rishi Sunak, and his Health Secretary, Sajid Javid, served as the death knell.
What is clear is that Boris Johnson’s premiership undermined the norms and values expected of his office. A recent poll conducted by The Institute for Public Policy Research showed that public trust in British politicians is now at record low levels. More than 63% of those polled thought politicians are sleazy and only in government for themselves. Interestingly, it was ultimately the realisation that he had done too much harm to political norms and public trust that led to his exit.
What lessons can be drawn from the fall of Boris Johnson? At an individual level, the lessons appear rather obvious and need not be restated. At a societal level, however, his fall highlights the fragility of norms. Norms are unwritten rules about expected behaviour. In established democracies, norms matter because they are the guardrails of democracy. They indicate what is expected in political offices and ensure that governance and political discourse are anchored on the values they promote. The decision by conservative politicians to show more loyalty to a prime minster whose actions regularly contradicted the expected behaviour of his office soiled British political culture and undermined political values.
When we set norms aside, we tear at the fabric of the institutions that are essential to the proper functioning of democracy. We make it more difficult to hold leaders accountable. As Nigerians, the lesson here is that there is a need to evolve a political culture that is embedded in moral norms. If Boris Johnson were a Nigerian president, would he have been removed over such a moral infraction? Consolidating our democracy must mean demanding that leaders demonstrate a minimum level of moral integrity that is worthy of the office they hold. Our development agenda cannot be realised if political office holders are often the worst of us.
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Dr Adediran is an Assistant professor in International Relations at Liverpool Hope University. He can be contacted on: bolaadediran2020@yahoo.com