Guess who’s back — the Boris Johnson charabanc rolls into town once again as the former prime minister unveils the defence he will offer to the Commons Privileges Committee. Their televised hearing tomorrow will see him defending himself against the charge that he knowingly misled Parliament about the scale and frequency of Number 10 parties in lockdown.
Johnson, guided by formidable barrister Lord Pannick, will today air his version of why his presence at Number 10 events, including a birthday gathering in 2020 at which he was either an unaware soul or “ambushed by a cake”, was not evidently outside the “guidance” governing lockdown socialising.
Partygate, including other bawdy events in Number 10 by young staffers even if Johnson did not attend, melded into political kryptonite. In essence, Rishi Sunak is in power today because enough senior ministers finally lost faith in Johnson’s version of events. That rankles with his allies who believe he was ousted on a matter of relative triviality in the handling of a pandemic. Some are banking on a comeback which is beginning to feel like the Monty Python sketch in which the confused believers wait on the “wind which will be so mighty” — only to leave disappointed and agree to reconvene the next time.
As for the man himself, he is both a chancer and a fighter and the terms on which the committee delivers its verdict will determine whether his political options are sealed off and his legacy is defeat — or if he can claim a degree of vindication and fight another day. Two possible lines of defence suggest themselves. The less plausible one is that the committee itself is incurably biased because its chair, Labour veteran Harriet Harman, had previously tweeted to the effect that Johnson (and Sunak) had misled the House.
But the committee has good standing as being fair-minded and is a Tory majority not a Labour one. This should not bear much weight as an excuse. My guess is that it is being prominently inserted now, lest the outcome is at the sharp end of expectations.
The more central story that Johnson will likely adhere to is — whether or not he was wise to attend events, he had enough advice to the effect that these were permissible that he did not act recklessly. There are holes in this argument too. Wine bottles proliferating and speeches are clearly different matters to a quiet glass of chardonnay with a colleague over a spreadsheet. But the sense that, as the PM will say, the “goalposts were shifted” after Partygate became a scandal does allow him to argue that he was “repeatedly assured that the rules were not broken.”
Note that this formulation does not venture to say whether they were or not, just that he was “repeatedly” told that there was not a problem he should worry about. This, according to one person close to the enquiry, is the “deliberation zone” for the committee and a lot hinges on it. The most serious outcome could lead to Johnson’s suspension from the Commons for more than 10 days, with the possibility of triggering a Recall petition and a byelection. Pent-up fury among supporters and a defiant last stand from the great blunderbuss would likely ensue.
An easier result to handle is that Johnson was careless, but that the advice he saw was at least ambiguous. When he responded to Sue Gray’s investigation into events in No 10, he told the Com that he “believed in all sincerity that the rules and guidance had been followed at all times — it was what I believed to be true,” the form of words was telling. It opened a door to conceding that he might have been wrong to attend the events but can blame conflicting advice for the decision to do so. A poison arrow directed at Gray’s move to work for Keir Starmer is inevitable, although Gray really did little more than establish facts for the privileges commitee to rule on.
The gory part will start when any sanction is put before Parliament. Sunak has insisted on a “free vote”, to keep distance from the inquiry and its fallout. Really, though, MPs would then be presented with a referendum on whether the Boris road show has finally run out of road. A 50-page dossier and orchestrated chorus of allies telling us how slanted the jury is does not sound like a man who who thinks it is all over. Ousted, yes, resentful, you bet. Penitent, very partially. But one for the relaxed exit? That’s a solid no.
Anne McElvoy is executive editor at Politico
