It doesn’t matter if Harman dons her executioner’s cap – it’s over for Boris

AT THE start of last week, a Labour MP and Tory MP were getting their hair cut in the House of Commons’ barbers. The conversation turned to Boris Johnson and his upcoming appearance at the Privileges Committee. Both agreed the former Prime Minister was in a lot of trouble.

Unfortunately, and unbeknown to the two neatly coiffured parliamentarians, one of Johnson’s most loyal allies had entered the salon and overheard them.

‘They just went mental,’ the Labour MP told me. ‘They started ranting at both of us. It was like some crazy person had walked in off the street.’

When they left, the Tory MP turned to his opposite number. ‘I’m sick of this rubbish,’ he said.

The Parliamentary Conservative Party has had enough of Boris. They’re tired of his self-serving dissembling. They’ve had their fill of the sycophantic hectoring and haranguing of his acolytes. And they’ve finally reached the end of their tether with the whole Johnson psychodrama and circus.

‘I’ve always backed him,’ one Red Wall MP told me shortly after the ex-PM’s three-and-a-half-hour suprajudicial grilling. ‘But I’m done now. I’ll vote for his suspension. It’s all about him. He doesn’t give a damn about the party or the country.’

A Minister agreed. ‘I’m exhausted by it,’ he said. ‘It’s got to end.’

Until a few weeks ago, the prospect of a dramatic comeback by the Tory Party’s enfant terrible was real. Red Wall MPs were looking at their party’s dire poll ratings and starting to think the unthinkable.

Dozens of letters demanding a vote of no-confidence in Rishi Sunak in the event of a disastrous showing in May’s local elections were being surreptitiously drafted. ‘What have we to lose?’ was the refrain wafting around Westminster’s bars and tea-rooms.

BUT then Johnson came crashing back into the political fray. And reminded colleagues they may have quite a lot to lose after all. His first blunder came at the beginning of the month.

While 200 Tory MPs were assembling in a Windsor hotel for a briefing by the party’s chief election strategist, Isaac Levido, Johnson was making a speech in London, attacking the Prime Minister’s Northern Ireland deal.

His words were measured and contained some legitimate criticisms. But to Tory backbenchers, it represented a slap in the face. ‘We’d all gone to Windsor to try to find a way of fighting off Starmer and keeping us in government. Meanwhile, Boris was getting paid a fortune to grandstand and stab Rishi in the back,’ one Minister revealed. ‘Everyone was furious.’

His second major misstep happened last weekend.

As Johnson’s appearance in front of Harriet Harman’s committee approached, many Tory MPs were attempting to keep an open mind.

Their view was he had clearly misled the Commons, but they had genuine concerns the process was in danger of becoming excessively partisan, especially following the revelation that Sue Gray – author of the original Partygate report – had defected to Labour. But then Johnson’s allies began rolling the pitch for his arrival. A ‘bombshell dossier’ that would completely clear him was set to be published, they claimed. A raft of messages from senior officials would prove he had been assured all events in Downing Street had been within the rules. It would prove the committee had been sitting on ‘key evidence that would exonerate him’.

This bravado lasted just long enough for Johnson to walk into the committee room and place his hand on the Bible. At which point the bombshell dossier detonated in his own face.

It emerged that, in truth, his officials had specifically warned him they did not believe all the rules had been followed. He had not even sought the advice of senior civil servants over the numerous parties that had been held.

And as the committee slowly and painstakingly exposed this fact, Boris’s bombastic bonhomie vanished as he began to shout at and hector his inquisitors.

‘It was pretty embarrassing to watch,’ one previously loyal Johnson ally admitted to me.

Then Johnson made his final, fateful mistake.

No sooner had he begun giving evidence than the Commons’ Division Bell rang and Johnson trotted off in an attempt to derail Sunak’s Windsor Framework Bill.

It was part of a carefully co-ordinated ambush which saw Johnson supporters aligning with allies of Liz Truss and the militant European Research Group to inflict maximum political damage on the Prime Minister.

The conspirators fell flat on their faces. After predictions that between 50 and 60 Tory MPs might vote against, only 22 diehards rebelled. Johnson was humiliated. But not before he had managed to extinguish what remained of his political support.

‘There were a lot of angry people in the lobbies,’ one Minister revealed shortly after the vote. ‘The view is Rishi worked hard delivering this and there are signs he’s starting to turn things around.

‘There are a lot of people who would have sat on their hands who are now going to turn up and vote for Boris’s suspension.’

They shouldn’t have to. Boris Johnson’s place in history is assured: his leadership over Ukraine; his management of the wider Covid crisis; his delivery of Brexit – at least until his recent decision to run around telling everyone he didn’t manage to deliver Brexit after all.

But history is where Boris Johnson needs to reside now. His political career is over.

Regardless of whether Harriet Harman dons the executioner’s black cap, there are now no circumstances where he can usurp Rishi Sunak and sweep back into Downing Street.

Conservative MPs can no longer stomach him. Their mantra of ‘What have we got to lose?’ has been replaced with ‘I’d rather lose than put up with more of Boris’.

Yes, a few of his more fanatical allies still cling to the belief that he can somehow brush aside the events of the past week. But that’s a fantasy.

‘Boris is winning in the court of public opinion,’ Jacob Rees-Mogg claimed. No he isn’t. He’s trying every trick in the book to try to stay out of the court of public opinion.

The thing that terrifies Johnson more than anything is the prospect of a ten-day suspension from the Commons. Why? Because that could precipitate a recall ballot, and then a by-election in his Uxbridge constituency.

And it’s a by-election he knows he would probably lose.

So what precisely is the point of Boris Johnson now?

He has no chance of replacing Rishi Sunak. He is supposed to be the man who can reach sections of the electorate other Tory politicians can only dream of reaching, yet is no longer confident he can even retain the support of his own constituents.

If Sunak miraculously manages to turn the political tide, there is no prospect of Johnson being offered a return to government. And if he can’t, Johnson will have no stomach – nor the finances – for an extended spell in opposition.

Indeed, there is only one political role Boris Johnson could possibly perform with credibility now. Acting as a Fifth Columnist for Sir Keir Starmer. Sniping. Agitating. Undermining. Boris and his dwindling entourage could fulfil that function with aplomb.

But handing Sir Keir the keys to No10 is all they can achieve now, because their own chances of retaking ownership of them have gone.

There is only one good service Boris Johnson can render his party and his country.

He shouldn’t wait for the verdict of Harriet Harman. He shouldn’t wait for the verdict of the House. He shouldn’t wait for the verdict of the people of Uxbridge. He should just go.