I want to begin this column with an apology. When Dominic Raab and his forehead vein first throbbed into the public consciousness as one of the many Brexit secretaries during Theresa May’s rolling malfunction of an administration, I note I simply regarded him as the sort of “tightly wound” white-collar loner who owned a number of lockups with chest freezers at whose contents one could only shudderingly guess. What was I thinking? Merely, I guess, that Raab would one day be played by Jonny Lee Miller in a three-star ITV psychological thriller called Something Wicked This Way Comes. That now feels naive to the point of twee. It has this week been placed on the record that Dominic Raab is in fact the sort of man whose obsession with correctly formatted documents left his officials being told that “people had died” during the UK’s chaotic evacuation from Afghanistan last year.
Back then, Raab was foreign secretary. He is now back at justice, after Brandon Lewis found the resolution to the barristers’ strike that had eluded Raab, during the 27-minute Liz Truss interregnum. Has Dominic’s return to the department been met with bouquets and tearful euphoria? In short, no, although I believe there have been tears. He is now the subject of a formal inquiry into multiple accusations of bullying across the three departments in which he has held cabinet roles – a great look for a man recently restored to the position of deputy prime minister as part of Rishi Sunak’s alleged cabinet of all the sensibles.
