It’s just another manic Monday in Whitehall: a tale of unravelling prime ministerial authority, while a Number 10 staff warily assesses which of their masters is likely to be leaving permanently as the reckoning for Partygate draws near.
Add to that the row in the Whips’ office over alleged arm-twisting of critics of the PM, and one charge from a former minister of outright racism over the weekend, and Brand Boris has taken a battering which has brought it to the verge of political bankruptcy. On the account of those who have dealt with him over the last week, the PM’s mood ranges from bullish to “bunker mentality” and “secretive” about his next moves.
The prospect of Sue Gray’s investigation concluding this week has explosive ramifications for Johnson’s premiership. It is, as one insider puts it, a “rumbling volcanic eruption” set to resonate through the Number 10 operation and the Cabinet Office in the coming days — AKA the twin nerve centres of Johnson’s political operation. The report by Gray, a senior civil servant, has included talking to members of the Metropolitan Police’s Parliamentary and Diplomatic Protection Command on duty when the nine social events covered by the inquiry were held, and some of their statements are reported to be “extremely damning”.
Today, the Telegraph cites a source who claims they would be “very surprised” if Johnson could last the week in the light of new information. This is, of course, still only a surmise — but any sense that police were encouraged to turn a blind eye to lockdown-breaking in Number 10 would deepen the PM’s difficulties and possibly kick off a more concerted attempt by panicking Tories to stem the damage to the party by ditching its leader.
The document painstakingly put together by Gray after dozens of interviews is, according to one figure familiar with her thinking, likely to hone in on the “chaos and lack of grip and discipline” in Number 10. She is also set to reveal how ambiguity about Downing Street’s status of workplace and PM’s residence led to unclear (indeed, largely absent) messaging internally about Covid rules and unnecessary mixing. It is said to have allowed a party and drinking culture to thrive while — for large swathes of 2020 and 2021 — strict lockdowns constrained social life and family gatherings for the rest of the country.
A radical changing of the guard in Downing Street is unavoidable, with Martin Reynolds — Party Marty, Johnson’s principal private secretary who sent the ill-advised jaunty email inviting staff to “BYOB” drinks in the Downing Street garden in May 2020 — first in the firing line. Dan Rosenfield, the rebarbative chief of staff, has some support among colleagues who insist he was a more cautious figure, but the charge of a badly-run administration will land at his door — not least when Dominic Cummings, the apostate ex-strategist who claims he warned Johnson personally about breaches of rules, speaks to Gray today. Jack Doyle, director of communications, is rumoured to be one of the figures “likely to want to check out” as a colleague daintily puts it, having made a speech at a Christmas party in 2020.
Party Marty, Johnson’s principal private secretary who sent the BYOB email, is first in the firing line
Officials and staffers losing their jobs is necessary to show that the Government accepts Downing Street culture went badly awry in its values and conduct during the pandemic. Resignations, however, are also a shield for the PM. Credibly or otherwise, Johnson’s position when the report is published is very likely to be a continuation of his embattled but stubborn posture last week: that he was given no clear guidance that anything that occurred while he was in the building was actually against the rules.
The urgent matter for the PM is how far the report is likely to reignite moves on the Tory backbenches towards a no confidence vote which surged and stuttered last week. Loyalists claim this is “off the boil” — but it would not take much to heat it up again, for which reason the police and protection squad’s evidence is treacherous territory for the leader. The PM hunkered down at Chequers at the weekend, bypassing the Whips’ office to rally support directly or via trusted MPs. As he often does when times are difficult, he contacted loyalists with plans to “get the band together again” — convening supporters who were at his side through the tortuous Brexit votes and the prorogation of Parliament in 2019, and deploying them to sound out MPs on his behalf. “As things stand, Boris would win a vote of no confidence,” assures one Cabinet minister. But the sense of division and controversy would linger even so.
Johnson, according to one of his confidants, “is playing his card close to his chest”. That very tendency will pull against the other advice likely to flow from the Gray report — namely, that the Johnson clique needs to break out of its self-congratulatory clannishness and allow for a culture of greater self-questioning than it has done in his premiership. For all his public gregariousness, Johnson is often a secretive figure. Even ministers who are close to his political agenda can find themselves without a clear signal of his intentions.
When troubled, Johnson often seeks advice from his old election Svengali from his City Hall days, Sir Lynton Crosby, although friends of the strategist claim that he is “more likely to help Johnson on a temporary basis” than seek a full-time role now. Crosby is currently working in his native Australia and will not be back in the UK till February. The same goes for Lord (Eddie) Lister, a veteran local government figure whom Johnson trusted to drive through his ideas as London mayor. Lister had a brief and tense stay in Number 10, not least because he was reportedly unhappy at the involvement of the PM’s wife in important decisions and staffing. “In many ways, Boris needs these steadying figures more than ever,” reflects a former City Hall ally. “But ‘the band’ frankly don’t relish Carrie’s political input and his old allies have moved on to focus on their businesses. They’re not up for being mopper-uppers.”
Appointing more women to formative and high-profile Number 10 roles is one proposal the PM may well act on, not least because the impression of a “lad’s lair” in Downing Street has persisted since Dominic Cummings threw his weight about, and there has been a seemingly endless succession of men ruling the roost in the Boris years. The key exception has been Munira Mirza, the quietly-spoken head of the policy unit providing “red meat” policies for Johnson, including the attack on the BBC licence fee. Another senior woman, Jess Glover, the Cabinet Office’s “director general of transition” who deals with the knotty problems of Brexit legislation and its effects on business, is also tipped for a leading role. “She knows the machinery of government and she has the authority and network to change things,” says a colleague.
Present insiders like Simone Finn, the deputy chief of staff, will also sense opportunities to advance. Little love has been lost between Finn, an import from the Cabinet Office, and her boss Rosenfield. Ebullient and vastly experienced, Finn is a loyal ally of Michael Gove and Carrie Johnson. “Downing Street needs more Anji Hunters and Kate Falls [key female aides to Blair and Cameron] who calmed stuff down and could warn of trouble brewing, and fewer blokes running around buying cases of Malbec,” says an old friend of the PM.
The Red Wall is the other factor which will ultimately determine whether the PM is now on a downward slide towards a precipitous exit, or can miraculously extricate himself from a mess which has left the voters he wooed to win his majority angry and confused. Influential figures have spoken out. Dehenna Davison, the outspoken MP for Bishop Auckland — a constituency that represented a totemic Tory win from Labour — has denied being part of a prospective coup to topple Johnson, but has made no secret of her fury over his lack of grip and stopped short of endorsing him remaining in post. “I am incredibly angry about the Downing Street parties and the Prime Minister’s response. It will be for the Prime Minister himself, or the Conservative Party collectively, to decide the PM’s future.”
Appointing more women like Simone Finn to formative roles at No 10 is one proposal
When I ask a friend in my native Durham — one of the Red Wall seats which fell dramatically to Johnson — for a take, the response is swift and devastating. “When Covid started, friends and family really sympathised with the situation he was in and couldn’t see Labour doing any better. Now that’s all forgotten. I can’t see how he can recover from this. Up here, the Red Wall is half rebuilt now.”
Brand Boris has morphed from eventful and exciting to giddy self-harm, and loyalists are thinner on the ground than ever. Internal enemies and competitors know they are dealing with a leader on borrowed time. The question is now not so much whether the Number 10 reboot will work, but whether the master of the unruly house survives the transition. His best hope is expressed by an old friend turned arch critic: “It is touch and go for Boris. But do we really need a leadership contest now?”
Whatever transpires on the Gray day of reckoning, there will be plenty of Whitehall roles vacant. Prospects: eventful, duration: uncertain. Must bring own flak jacket. Tee-totallers ardently preferred.
