From: Gerry Fenby
To: Ali Gledhill, Douglas Johnson, R.E Vamp
C.C: The London Electorate

Subject: The Consequences of a Boris Mayoralty

Gentlemen:

I found myself in an uncomfortable position today. Loitering at a bus stop*, I was ambushed by an enthusiastic, bouncing woman of indetirminate middle age, clad in a Back Boris shirt. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out.

I removed my ear-phones, grudgingly. Tories, especially happy Tories, don’t qualify as important enough to interrupt Portishead under normal circumstances.

However, she seemed insistent.

“What?”
The Boris-bot beams. She remained bizarrely cheerful throughout the episode, given how surly I was.
“Would you like to meet Boris Johnson?”
“Um…”

You appreciate the dilemmna facing me, I’m sure. I loathe Boris. I find his current vacuity worrying; the old politics it covers offensive; and his attempts at humour dully unfunny, reliant more on the reader’s (simple) mindset than his skill. Perhaps he is a charming and sensitive man in private - but his public persona could be charged for inciting me to violence against it.

On the other hand, I could hardly pass up a chance to heckle the Twa Tory - could I? Your blogger fell behind on those stakes a fortnight ago, when Douglas thrust a Green Party leaflet on a bewildered BoJo after a hustings. Another incident - this time, with the possibility of a watchful journalist catching it - would hardly go amiss.

So…

“Yes, why not?”

The woman beamed, again, sickeningly, before skittering off.  I followed - into a calvacade of idiocy.

The clown and jester epithets usually applied to Boris strike me as loosely accurate. It was hard to miss the merry circus, ambling its way down the high street. First came the mindless groupies: vacuous placard wavers screaming in adulation at the approach of their bumbling hero. They thrust leaflets, they wave banners, they cheer. One of them even had a song about stopping Ken, the lyrics of which weren’t worth remembering.

Then the real spectators: the press. Bustling along, walking backwards, cameras going over and over. I half expected one to fall over and damage themselves - which, cruel as it sounds, would have ruined the walkabout spectacularly.

Then came the ringmasters: slick, stressed-looking men in suits. They kept a discrete distance from the main attraction, trailing a few yards behind the shambling main attraction. I do wonder what purpose they actually served here. Walkabouts are one of the few places that managing BoJo must verge on impossible - as demonstrated by the ambush where Boris gave away the real cost of his plans for buses. He’s there to talk to people, and there’s virtually nothing they can do to stop that. Unless they control the crowd, of course…

Strangely, the only figure that actively detracts from the circus metaphor here is BoJo himself. Ambling along, slightly hunched, eyes hazy, arms out in front - he was doing his very best to appear serious. He shook peoples’ hands firmly, earnestly looked them in the eye, nodded his head very seriously. That he looked like a badly stuffed toy with difficulties comprehending the world only served to move him further from his previous, clown like image. A figure of fun, perhaps - but only because he looked so bloody ridiculuous.

My heckle didn’t go to plan. I let loose my first shout - an off-the-cuff jab about the cost of buses - entirely too early. It wasn’t in his face; it was through the back of a few. His minders, loosely grouped around him, performed their only overt role of the walkabout and steered him quietly away to a collection of screaming groupies elsewhere. He found himself assailed with handshakes, not heckles.

I, meanwhile, found myself attacked from all sides.

“You shouted at Boris?  How could you?”
“Look! A Commie!”
“How could you? He’s such a Legernd!”
“Boris!”
“He’s such a Legernd! How could you?”
“Boris!”
“What are you, the only Labour supporter in the borough?”
“BorisBorisBorisBorisBorisBorisBugh…”

Fool that I am, I decided on an argument. Rounding on one of my detractors; a young woman (depressingly) of about my own age in a Back Boris shirt.

“Yes, I heckled Boris. So?”
“He’s Boris, how could you…”
“Why shouldn’t I heckle him?”
“Because…”
“Why should I vote for Boris?”
“Because…”
“Because?”

An awkward, angry pause. I suspect most Boris Backers - especially in an area as upsettingly blue as this - aren’t used to being reminded their candidate has few policies worth speaking of. Forcing them to say:

“…because he’s not Ken!”
“So?”

This one genuinely puzzled her, I think. The frustration in her face morphed into a confused mix of bemusement, fear and loathing. Rather fun to watch…

“Because…because he’s Ken!  Hes a crook!  He’s corrupt!  He hates cars!  He…he…”
“Neither corruption nor theft have been proven. What he’s definitely been accused of - employing a small clique of ex-extremists he knew in his youth - is no different to Cameron’s front bench.”

Note that I didn’t deny Ken hates cars.  There’s certainly no proof to show he likes them - a sentiment I’m inclined to share, if I’m honest…

“He…oppresses poor Venezualans and does deals with dodgy dictators!”

And at that point, the Boris Backer lost the argument. Attacks on Ken and Chavez infuriate me; something I imagine my opponent realised fairly soon…

“Really?  I’m not sure who you’re talking about.”
Splutter.
“Chavez!”
“That’s a strange figure to pick as a dictator and oppressor of the poor. Very few dictators run in elections, or accept the results of referenda that don’t go their way - as he did. Very few prole-haters engage is heavy nationalisation and redistribution of wealth - as he has done. You moan about the cheap oil deal - if it’s so damaging, why is the quality of life in Venezuala for the average individual so much higher than it was before Chavez? Wealth and power have been transferred from a very small rich elite into the hands of the majority. All very funny for a dictator, I’d say…”
“But…”
“And now, contrasted with your dear Boris, who opposed the minimum wage…”

At this point, she gave up, outraged that anyone could think Boris was a bastard. It worries me slightly that she even tried…

What worries me most, though, was how well BoJo went down with the crowd. He simply wasn’t an impressive sight - and yet they loved him. Admittedly, they were a partially picked crowd from a very Tory borough…

But it raised the spectre of Boris winning nonetheless. He might just do it - even if the most recent polls predict otherwise. The possible consequences would, I fear, be disastrous:

1. Anarchy in City Hall: Boris may well be serially incompetent. He’s never run anything but the Spectator (”Actually I think you’ll find it was 50 people, 50, not 20…”) - and there’s no evidence to suggest he did that well. I refer you to Matthew Parris on BoJo’s tenure as editor:

I must challenge Ken Livingstone’s complaint that as former editor of a small right-wing magazine, the only administrative decision Mr Johnson ever took was choosing a restaurant for lunch.

This paints an exaggeratedly hands-on picture of the Boris management style. His secretary did that kind of thing. You were just lucky if Boris came to the lunch.

Given the sheer amount of work involved in being Mayor, I suggest Boris may cock up. Spectacularly. I further suggest this will not be good for London.

And it may well lead to our next, more frightening option:

2. Boris becomes a puppet for the Tories: Boris has allowed himself to be managed all campaign. Except on a few, notable occasions - the public disagreement with Cameron over immigration being the most prominent - he’s done everything his minders have said. Those stressed looking men in suits from CHQ have him on a leash, and they probably aren’t keen to let go - in case Possibility 1 occurs. The GLA becomes a front for national Tory policy, and the electorate gets an early taste of why it shouldn’t vote Cameron.

3. Boris is largely incompetent, but tries anyway - while trying to avoid management by central party: The most likely, I suspect. Boris is a bumbling fool - but that’s not stopped any of them in the past, has it? The likelihood is that he’ll try to implement his policies, come up against unexpected difficulties or opposition, and collapse - as he has done whenever he’s been seriously questioned in public. At the same time, Cameron and the Conservative Party will have realised this, and will be trying to manage Boris as best they can.

Boris, however, is said to resent this management - and claims he’ll stand up to Cameron. If this is the case, a running battle looks to ensue between Boris and his old chums from the Bullingdon. Which may prove something of a distraction…

4. Boris defies all expectations and is competent: By far the most worrying possibility is that Boris is competent, and will go on and implement policies in the vein of his past writings. For the uninitiated, these generally express hardline Thatcherite views wrapped up in bad jokes. The 80s would return, just in time for the Depression…

None of these prospects entice me particularly. As such, in the event of a Boris victory, I suggest international revolution - or at least, fleeing the capital for four years.

Yours in deepest disgust,

Fenby

*I should say waiting here. But, being male and under 20, I’m inherently suspicious and quasi-criminal in the eyes of the population - thus, loitering. Probably with intent.