Often misquoted as a bon mot of Napoleon — but really the quizzical remark of tough 17th-century French ruler Cardinal Mazarin — the question to ask of a general is not “is he skilful?” but “is he lucky?” The “lucky generals” trope is as relevant to political combatants as military ones. Boris Johnson has inhabited the “lucky” ranks during his eventful and often erratic career. His winning streak has prevailed while foes, internal and beyond, have gnashed their teeth at his moral turpitude and patchy competence.
At the same time, luck is a factor of charisma, which is an undeniable plus for Johnson. One minister who is still weighing the odds on his boss’s survival points out that when he recently accompanied Johnson on a trip to a Midlands marginal territory, workers at a factory were hanging out of windows to grab a picture. Johnson may have fallen into the “tainted stardust” category, by dint of his tendency to see norms and constraints on his power as something to be got around or simply defied (as in his egregious change to the ministerial code, such that he cannot be found guilty of breaking it in the lockdowns).
