Our obsession with Johnson and other leaders of the past is ruining our politics
The latest Boris Johnson’s saga shows we’re all addicted to our former prime ministers and presidents, to a kind of politics that favours drama and jokes rather than serious policy-making, writes Elena Siniscalco
Last weekend was filled with political drama. And as it’s often been the case in the past few years, at the centre of that drama was Boris Johnson. Specifically, this time, it was his melodramatic exit from politics last Friday.
The former prime minister decided to resign after the investigation into Partygate found him guilty of misleading parliament. Johnson would have had to face a suspension from the House of Commons. He couldn’t accept such an affront to his dignity, so he decided to leave politics altogether (“at least for now”) with a raving resignation letter. “I did not lie, and I believe that in their hearts the committee know it”, wrote Johnson, accusing the committee of being a “kangaroo court”.
He criticised Rishi Sunak’s government for not being Conservative enough and brought down a few people with him. Energy secretary Grant Shapps wrapped it up on Sunday saying people wanted to move on from the “drama” of the chaotic former prime minister. But did they really?
We are all obsessed with political personalities of the recent past. New laws and policies get thrown out sporadically – and they’re often so controversial that they spend months ping-ponging in Parliament as the Lords desperately try to block them. But despite Sunak’s efforts to look all grown-up and focus on doing rather than talking, Westminster is completely addicted to the drama.
On the other side of the pond they’re not doing much better. Their blonde-haired problem could be described as even more farcical than Johnson. Former president Donald Trump is facing his most serious legal threat to date: federal charges of mishandling classified documents. We’re talking about national security briefs stocked up in his bathroom in Mar-a-Lago. All while he was ramping up his attempt to get back into the White House.
The Trump story is unique. And don’t get me wrong: it deserves much coverage and reflection. It’s a story about entitlement, power, and what went wrong in American politics. Yet in a way, it’s all part of the same paradox: an obsession with the past, with the drama, with those figures who could provide us, at times, with some “light-hearted fun” or absurdity.
Yesterday Silvio Berlusconi, by far the most influential political figure in Italy in recent history, passed away at the age of eighty-six. He was known for building a media empire; for leading four different governments; and for his links to dirty money and prostitution. His “politically incorrect” jokes defined a language, an era, a country.
Italy will fairly take the time to mourn him – but it’s impossible to deny the country was addicted to him. And this long-standing addiction stole time from policy-making that could have really helped a country with so many social and economic problems.
Incidentally – or perhaps not – these big personalities are always men. Female political leaders are too busy proving their worth in the most impossible ways; they don’t have time for scandals and drama. Even thinking of Nicola Sturgeon’s temporary arrest over the weekend, it’s fair to say it’s a very different story. And whether you like Sturgeon or not, she brought seriousness to her politics.
Politics can be boring; some drama might make it entertaining, and even more accessible. But there’s a real need, in the UK and elsewhere, for some serious politics. Many have made the case that we simply choose the wrong political leaders – individuals who have charisma, but no idea how to run a country. Instead we deserve politicians who pour over alternatives, confront solutions and come up with feasible policies. These men’s jokes, after all, are not that funny.