Capax imperii...
30 August 2013
The Wit and Wisdom of Boris Johnson
Edited by Harry Mount
Bloomsbury 2013
ISBN 978 1408 1835 26
£9.99
On my beside table, I currently have a copy of Mark Forsyth’s The Etymologicon. It’s one of a fast-proliferating breed of book: designed to look more like books than books, with extra thick pages, big type and textured covers. Sort of hyper-real books.Not-quite books. Waterstone’s counter yesterday was awash with them.
Boris Johnson reminds me of this kind of book. He’s a not-quite politician.
When he was appointed shadow Arts Minister in May 2004, his response was: "look the point is...er, what is the point? It is a tough job but somebody has got to do it." Anacoluthon and erotema - interrupting the syntax of the sentence with a rhetorical question - are carefully placed in the service of a precisely calibrated impression of what Boris has proudly called imbecilio.
"Boris," says Harry Mount, in an introduction to this book that's considerably more interesting and insightful than I was expecting, "is in fact a brilliant calibrator." He can shift his register precisely as the kairos demands.
In particular, his "magical gift for surreal, amusing apology" works "like a sort of bulletproof armour." When Eddie Mair called him "a nasty piece of work" earlier this year, Boris drew the venom with relative ease. "If a BBC presenter can't attack a nasty Tory politician," he suggested the next day, "what's the world coming to?"
Clever. Tory politicians are nasty; BBC presenters are inherently anti-conservative; 'twas ever thus and 'twill ever be thus. By holding up a mirror to our own prejudices, Johnson implies a level of honesty that actually increases his credibility. He knows that the only politician the public will now believe is a parody of a politician.
He uses his lack of ethos to magnify his ethos.
There's no doubting, then, the man's rhetorical flair. (Open this book at any page.) "That facility," claims Mount, "is largely to do with having studied classics." He has the classicist's command of language, playing off Latinate against Anglo-Saxon just as he plays off class against class. And his schooling allowed him to rehearse to perfection a role based on the archetypes of privilege, public school and ivory-tower academia: "Billy Bunter meets Bertie Wooster meets Professor Brainstorm." It's a "well-practised, mock-bumbling, Latin-loving routine that never fails him in “that crucial Johnsonian mission – to get him off the hook.”
For some, the image is a disguise. Daniel Hannan, Conservative MEP, believes that “there’s a smooth machine under the buffoonery. It’s not an exaggeration,” he claims, “to call him a genius.” (What is it, then, I wonder?)
Ian Hislop’s comment on Boris is more ambiguous. When people ask Hislop, “Is Boris a very clever man pretending to be an idiot?’, Hislop simply replies: ‘No.’
What Eton and Balliol failed, apparently, to instil in our man is any "capacity for long, concentrated periods of work" (Mount's words). When he missed a First, they say he went alone to the cinema and cried. When he was writing for the Daily Telegraph, he consistently failed to file his copy on time. When Mount asked one of Boris's old classics tutors about his chances of making it to Number 10, the man replied:
"Capax imperii nisi imperasset."
This is Tacitus on the Emperor Galba: "He was up the job of emperor, as long as he never became emperor."
Johnson's practised incompetence may allow him, very effectively, to hide what Jonathan Coe has called “his doggedly neo-liberal and pro-City agenda”. (I'm seriously indebted to Coe's recent article in the LRB.) Whether it also gives him cover for his lack of political competence is another matter.
For the moment, we can hold off the question about his ability to rise to the demands of high office. What matters is why people vote for him. His wit gains him support because it taps into a very British contempt for anything outstanding. "Boris," claims Mount, "manages to pull off the trick of being ambitious and successful, at the same time as implicitly mocking ambition and success. You end up forgiving him his ambition, and not begrudging him his success, because the whole act is so funny and endearing."
Ah. Endearing.
So Boris scores because he has incorporated satire's mockery of political hubris and incompetence into his own act and utterly emasculated it. Johnson knows that he has nothing to fear from the public’s laughter, because the public’s ridicule for politicians has become undiscriminating. He knows, to paraphrase Coe, that the best way to deal with satire is to create it yourself. Mount quotes Stuart Reid, Boris's deputy editor at the Spectator: “people of all social classes and most political persuasions will vote for him, precisely because he reduces everything to a joke.”
Wit and wisdom for our time.