Britain’s Gamble 10 Years Ago—and Ours

I don’t imagine the British know much baseball history. More’s the pity, because if they had, this week’s major political event might have reminded them of the adage of the great New York catcher and philosopher, Yogi Berra: “It’s déjà vu all over again.”

For my mostly stateside readers, I’m talking about Monday’s announcement by Keir Starmer (pictured) that he would step down as Prime Minister. Wouldn’t you know it, it was almost 10 years to the day that David Cameron did likewise.

Cameron’s decision immediately followed his failed gamble that a defeat of a referendum calling for Brexit would deflate the anti-free trade movement within his Conservative Party.

Instead, the yes vote to withdraw from the European Union precipitated his own fall from power, and overshadowed the terms of five subsequent PMs (including, now, Starmer) who eventually stood in front of 10 Downing Street to say, too, they would be stepping down.

Six leaders in 10 years represent no way to run a government, let alone a business. Coalition fractures mean at minimum that long-term projects won’t start, and that unscrupulous leaders will make a money or power grab while they can. At worst, they encourage a voter perception of anarchy and the need for a strongman to quell the chaos.

Sifting through the controversies that eventually engulfed Starmer in an article last month in The Financial Times, Anthony Seldon, co-founder of the Museum of the Prime Minister, summarized questions related to this streak of ineffective British leaders:

“Is it the incumbents or the system that is responsible? Are the problems the prime minister faces simply greater than before? Has the job now become impossible?”

Seldon cites three government structures in decline that are contributing to the current “churn at the top”: the replacement of Members of Parliaments motivated by the public interest by ones acting in their own private one; a deterioration of the civil service; and an electorate susceptible to instant gratification.

He also fears current developments in the two established parties, the Conservatives and Labour: “It is entirely possible that one or both will cease to exist as exist as mainstream parties in the next 10 [years]. If that happens, another source of national stability will be swept away.”

Seldon’s sweeping historical overview is fine, as far as it goes. But it doesn’t take into account how the Global Financial Crisis of 2007-09 stoked popular resentment on both sides of the Atlantic against international trade arrangements that millions came to regard as inequitable.

That popular unrest was manifested in the successful Brexit campaign, which produced its own inevitable lamentable consequences in the public sphere, according to The New York Times’ Michael D. Shear and Megan Specia:

“Perhaps no part of British society was changed more by Brexit than its political landscape, which has fractured into a chaotic tug of war in which no party seems able to satisfy the demands of an angry and disillusioned public for long.”

With all the hang-wringing by Seldon, Shear and Specia over volatility in the British government, they should cast their eyes “across the pond.” Here, unsteadiness over the past decade was generated not by six people, but by just one, driven by rage and retribution?

Yes, just as Britain took a flyer on a major shift in government, so did the United States 10 years ago this fall, when it elected Donald Trump—a candidate with no governmental or national security experience—President. Anger over two major issues that landed him in the White House also propelled the Brexit campaign: immigration and unequal class outcomes over trade policy.

In the last 10 years, Britain has only had one leader who remotely resembles Trump: Boris Johnson. As I wrote in this post from 10 years ago, when it looked like Johnson would not seek the brass ring, their shared traits include brashness, lying, an overactive libido, non-ideological conservatism, irresponsibility, a brand name, and faux populism.

Even so, Johnson has been no match over time for Trump, who, even after being cast out of the White House in the 2020 election, darkened American politics with ceaseless conspiracy mongering and his bid to return to power to avoid criminal and civil responsibility for his misdeeds.

And now, when he’s not busy earning nicknames like “Landscaper in Chief” and “The Creature From the Green Lagoon,” the Trump Presidency has created a vortex of instability characterized by longtime friends and allies insulted and alienated, promises made and broken, policy positions taken before being forsaken, including:

*Republican Senators cozy up to him unashamedly, only to find themselves “primaried” and losing their seats for no reason they can account for.

*The same senators are assured by White House aides that Trump will support a housing bill they’ve been working on with Democrats for over a year, only for the President to cancel the signing event at the last minute, insisting he won’t put his signature on it until Congress passes his pet voter ID legislation.

*Trump publicly speculated about making Venezuela the 51^st state.

*Even as the Trump administration negotiated with Iran, it prepared and launched a surprise invasion.

*With the “Memo of Understanding” (not yet a treaty, let alone one fulfilling initially stated war aims), Trump is teaching Israel’s Bibi Netanyahu what US observers have known for years: don’t count on his loyalty when he finds it disadvantageous.

*By exempting many agricultural commodities he announced last year, Trump has “raise[d] questions about the coherence of the president’s tariff initiatives as a whole,” according to a report this month by the American Enterprise Institute.

*At the start of the Iran War, he called for “unconditional surrender”—a demand long-since dropped.

I wish the British all the best as they look for a competent leader who’ll last more than Boris Johnson’s three years or Starmer’s two. But it could always be worse. They could choose a Trumpian leader desperate and able to stay on longer, perpetrating untold damage in the process.

(The image accompanying this post, of Keir Starmer, is his official portrait, taken July 5, 2024, on his appointment as Prime Minister, by Simon Dawson/ No 10 Downing Street.)

Essay: The Parallel Transatlantic Crises

“I’ve so far resisted these comparisons, but now Britain’s political crisis [i.e., Boris Johnson 'proroguing' Parliament for more than a month, in an unprecedented move to short-circuit discussion of his 'no-deal' Brexit] really does resemble the parallel crisis in the United States. A ruthless executive is pushing the outer bounds of what is constitutionally possible in order to achieve unpopular outcomes. A ruling party that is afraid for its own electoral future is shamefacedly supporting him. A divided opposition seeks to block him but doesn’t have a popular leader itself. A conservative party is using populist slogans that undermine national institutions. Old precedents and customs are being abandoned at great speed, leaving only a vacuum in their wake.”—Anne Applebaum, Washington Post, Aug. 29, 2019

There are even more parallels not mentioned by Ms. Applebaum between Boris Johnson and Donald Trump: 

*Both are tonsorially challenged clowns with neither executive ability nor respect for truth, perpetrating breakdowns in their country’s essential legislative function.

*Both Trump and Johnson lead a base worried by deteriorating order and challenges to traditional values, despite these "populists" own extremely untidy personal lives.

*Both came to power by emerging from the socioeconomic flotsam of the 2007-09 Global Financial Crisis, exploiting the fears of foreigners left in its wake.

*Both found their causes aided by trolls and bots associated with Russia (yes, the British are investigating how Putin propaganda aided the Brexit campaign, according to this NPR interview with Jane Mayer; as for Trump, not one of the President’s most raucous defenders can explain the extraordinary coincidence of Russia releasing the Wikileaks files on Hillary Clinton less than 24 hours after The Donald urged it to do so).

*Both are calling for stronger trade ties between their countries, as a seeming counter-move against the Economic Union (EU)--a strategy that plays into Putin's hopes of undermining economic and military alliances. 

*Both the Trump and Brexit campaigns used Steve Bannon as their scurvy strategist.

*Both leaders have created a ruckus over border security: Trump, by squawking about a wall with Mexico (and even transferring Defense Dept. money for other projects to try to speed its construction); Johnson, by ignoring concerns that lack of a EU “backstop” would doom the fragile tranquility prevailing in Northern Ireland since the Good Friday Agreement two decades ago.

*Both have crashed through unwritten rules of law and conduct that restrained predecessors in their countries’ highest office.

*Both have a penchant for insult: Johnson derided opposition leader Jeremy Corbyn as “you great big girl's blouse," while Trump has insulted someone on Twitter pretty close to every day.

*Both now pose a fundamental threat not just to the economy and governance of their countries, but to the faith that other nations place in the U.K. and U.S. as birthplaces of liberty.

So far, only one major difference exists in the ascent to power of Trump and Johnson: In the latter’s first week in office, a coalition of 21 Conservative Party Members of Parliament—including former Cabinet ministers—allied with the opposition to force him to make a Brexit deal or request another extension till early 2020. No such public, principled cohort has emerged to restrain Trump. 

Over the years, I have been critical of much British governmental policy (including its misbegotten colonial legacy), but this week, I have to tip my hat to a legislature that, unlike ours, has enough members who refuse to be bullied into meekly abdicating their time-honored responsibilities.

(Photo of Boris Johnson taken as an MP, July 27, 2016.)

Quote of the Day (Boris Johnson, Anticipating His Brexecution)

"My friends, as I have discovered myself, there are no disasters, only opportunities. And, indeed, opportunities for fresh disasters. Nothing excites compassion, in friend and foe alike, as much as the sight of you ker-splonked on the tarmac with your propeller buried six feet under."—British Member of Parliament and former Mayor of London Boris Johnson, quoted in Rose Powell, “How Gaffe-Prone Boris Johnson Could Become UK Prime Minister,” Sydney Morning Herald, Aug. 7, 2014

With his highly idiosyncratic approach to the mother tongue and his penchant for getting into one scrape after another, Boris Johnson can sound at times like Bertie Wooster let loose in Parliament. Put that together with his keen sense of Fleet Street’s voracious appetite for copy (he was a former reporter and editor of The Spectator), and you have a journalist’s dream candidate, a virtual English Channel of quotes and gaffes.

Except that, at least for the current cycle, it doesn’t like as if he’ll be a candidate for Prime Minister. The astonishing last week in the U.K.—starting with the vote to leave the European Union, David Cameron’s announced departure from Whitehall, and the vote of no confidence in Labour Party leader Jeremy Corwyn—climaxed with the out-of-left-field statement by Johnson, a Conservative leader of the Brexit forces, that he would not, after all, seek the P.M. post.

Cameron’s loss of power led observers to reach back in history for another Conservative
P.M. undone by a grievous miscalculation: Anthony Eden, in the wake of the Suez invasion. But Johnson’s abrupt slide down the greasy pole led commentators to look to drama: House of Cards, where treachery and the velvet power thrust abound.

Briefly, after the Brexit vote, when he still looked like The Coming Man, New York Post columnist Michael Goodwin likened him to Donald Trump in how he outraged elites. All seemed to change once Michael Gove, his comrade-in-arms atop the Leave forces, cleared his throat, said his old college friend couldn’t “provide the leadership or build the team for the task ahead,” and put forward the best man for the job: himself. Now, unlike The Donald, Boris is looking up mournfully at the post he tried to attain.

You are unlikely to see Trump—or, to be fair, any current U.S. politicians—drop allusions to Greek and Latin literature in their speeches, as Boris has been known to do. But the derailed politico’s story and tone are going to seem oddly familiar to Americans long since used to Trump, and for reasons going beyond the tonsorial styles that made them presumptive hairs apparent to their nation’s highest office. Consider the following:

*Brashness. Johnson’s style is unfiltered, running counter to the typical British reserve (including that displayed by recent occupants of 10 Downing Street). In Trump’s case, “brash” seems to be permanently connected to the word “billionaire” (and, I suppose, will do in a pinch, to avoid overusing other “b” words such as “bumptious,” “bombastic and “bullying”).

*A libido that, in years past, would have marked him politically Dead on Arrival. Boris has had three known affairs resulting in an abortion, a miscarriage and a child born out of wedlock, not to mention his sacking from the Tories’ “front bench” back in 2004 when he was less than candid with party chief Michael Howard about one liaison. Despite that, he rebounded back into contention in the race to become PM until his latest stumble. Trump, of course, is a twice-divorced adulterer, world-class female objectifier, and even a guy who creepily said his daughter was so hot that if they weren’t related, he could date her. None of this, of course, made the slightest difference to religious conservatives, who voted for him in great numbers in the primaries.

*Lying. Boris is a glib liar. Even before he prevaricated to Howard, he got fired from a prior job in the newspaper business, by making up quotes. The sheer brazenness of that act prepared him well for politics, where—as demonstrated in the latest Brexit campaign—he could make promises and offer "facts" on flimsy evidence, then walk them back. Trump is an even greater master of mendacity. Long given to hype, he is now utterly unable to distinguish truth from falsehood. He lies about masses of Muslims celebrating 9/11, about never settling cases, about Ronald Reagan liking him, about always being against the Iraq War. Not content with being a chronic liar, he is also a pathological one, a tendency born of ineradicable narcissism.

* “Did he REALLY say what I thought he said?” There’s an entire book called The Wit and Wisdom of Boris Johnson. Personally, I’m not too sure about the “wisdom” part, but the outrageous factor in it is quite high. The following is as good an example as any to illustrate the point: “For ten years,” he once wrote, “we in the Tory party have become used to Papua New Guinea-style orgies of cannibalism and chief-killing, and so it is with a happy amazement that we watch as the madness engulfs the Labour party.” Forced to apologize to the government and people of Papua New Guinea, he offered a non-apology apology: “I meant no insult to the people of Papua New Guinea, who I’m sure lead lives of blameless bourgeois domesticity.” As for Trump, once you start on all the individuals and groups he’s insulted—Mexicans, the disabled, reporters, Iowans, African-Americans, POWs, Megan Kelly, Rosie O’Donnell, Pope Francis—the question then becomes, who hasn’t he dissed? Imagine Spiro Agnew, but with a billion dollars.

* Non-ideological conservatism. Boris has been known to be oddly blasé about his convictions, including the degree of his devotion to Thatcherism: "I realise that there may be some confusion in my prescriptions between what I would do, what Maggie would do, and what the government is about to do or is indeed already doing ... I don't think it much matters, because the three are likely to turn out to be one and the same." Trump is similarly blithe about his beliefs: “Folks, I'm a conservative, but at this point, who cares?”

*Irresponsibility. Johnson lent the Brexit movement a credibility lacking from its most diehard zenophobes. Once he won, splitting the EU, his party and perhaps his nation in two, he tried to downplay the positions he had only recently taken. This, as much as anything, may have sparked the rebellion of Gove, who had been set to serve as campaign manager in his PM bid. Similarly, Trump has divided his party and the nation as a whole with his inflammatory rhetoric.

*Faux populism. Boris contends that he speaks for the working class. It would be more correct to say that he has exploited its real troubles and that his closest associates are more likely to come from the tony schools from which he graduated, Eton and Oxford.  Truman’s advocacy in this vein is even more preposterous. How the populist mantle can be worn by a billionaire landlord who has tried to hustle tenants out of his buildings and imported foreign workers to work on his signature Manhattan property is beyond me.

*Branding. Boris is such a well-known quantity in the U.K. that he is one of the few politicos to be known by his first name, in the manner of Madonna. Trump’s business holdings use his name, based on the notion that they will exert a broad brand recognition. His rise to the top of the GOP field was smoothed by this high recall, as well as with their recall of his role on reality show The Apprentice.

* “Who Do You Think You Are?” Boris appeared on an episode of this BBC series about family history. The tone of the question for the series’ subjects is meant to be quietly inquisitive, but voters on both sides of the Atlantic would be best advised to adopt a far more challenging—and, yes, derisive—tone as they consider the record and damage left by Boris and The Donald.