Nick Cohen

Germany’s Die Welt asked me to tell its readers how on earth someone like Boris Johnson could become prime minister. I gave it my best shot. Whatever else happens to Germany, I cannot imagine a German Boris Johnson coming to power. To assemble such a creature, you would have to create conservative German whose parents bought him the best education money could buy – Johnson went to Eton, one of Britain’s most expensive private schools, and Oxford, an elite university that dominates the upper reaches of English culture with a thoroughness no German university can match. Imagine then that he gets a job on a respected German newspaper through his family’s connections.

The phrase ‘existential crisis’ is thrown around too easily. But it is hard to find a better description of the state of the Labour party, whose members and supporters overwhelmingly oppose Brexit but whose leader and advisors cling to the old Communist party line that the EU is a ‘capitalist club’. Previously solid followers of Jeremy Corbyn — Clive Lewis in Norwich, Lloyd Russell-Moyle in Brighton and many leftish London MPs — know that Brexit may cost them their seats. And nothing makes a politician move faster than the prospect of unemployment. Even Labour can’t stagger on like this indefinitely.

Modern politicians are like drug dealers intent on keeping their clients’ hooked. They sell fixes to their core voters: upping the strength and deepening the addiction. The punters know at some level they are being played. But a temporary high is better than no high, and infinitely preferable to the sweats and shakes the cold turkey of reality brings. Boris Johnson is the British right’s pusher. He feeds its addiction, taking Conservatives from drug to drug. Higher and higher they go. Further and further from the straight world of the normies with their tedious facts and nagging doubts.

Boris Johnson seems the opposite of Theresa May. The worst thing she ever did was run through a wheat field. The worst thing he ever did remains open to debate. But dark suspicious prompted Charles Moore, whom older readers will remember as a defender of family values, to ask: 'Does it matter if our future prime minister is considered by some to be a sex maniac?' (Not if it’s a sex maniac Moore supports, apparently.) May is withdrawn. Johnson is outgoing. May will tell you how many children she has. Johnson won’t. May is viewed by the right as the head of a Remainer conspiracy. Johnson resigned rather than serve in her Vichy regime. As whoever comes after her will be worse, there is a danger of romanticising Theresa May’s premiership.

Rather rashly, Boris Johnson published The Churchill factor: How one man made history in 2015. It was without historical merit, or intellectual insight, but Johnson did not intend readers to learn about Churchill. The biography was not a Churchill biography but a Johnson campaign biography, where we were invited to see our  hero as Winston redux. Both ignored party discipline and conventional routes of advancement, after all. Both were great company. Churchill stayed in the wilderness for years making a fortune from journalism, and so has Johnson. Churchill was a man of principle and so is… Hold on. That doesn’t work. It doesn't work at all.

The remain campaign’s political dilemma looks insoluble. Perhaps I am being overly pessimistic – gloom is my default state –  but it is certainly formidable because it requires remainers to simultaneously support and oppose Jeremy Corbyn. I can make the people who spell it out sound silly. I shouldn’t because some of the brightest and most committed men and women in the People’s Vote campaign are wrestling with the problem of how to break through in a first-past-the-post-system when a neo-Stalinist faction controls the opposition. Here is their argument. A new Tory prime minister will be with us by July.

Protestors on the anti-Brexit marches have sensed an eerie absence. ‘What is it?’ I thought back in March as I stood on a soapbox to address an audience so jammed by the weight of numbers on Park Lane that it could not escape. Then it hit me. ‘What the hell have they done with the left?’ There were no Socialist Workers Party placards or George Galloways. The people who hijacked every demonstration I could remember had vanished. I saw plenty of left-wingers. On the neighbouring soapbox, a succession of socialists spoke well on the need to protect migrants and workers’ rights in a reformed Europe.

When people challenge my opinions I shrug, said Vladimir Nabokov. When people challenge my facts, I reach for my dictionary. Brendan O’Neill, formerly of the Revolutionary Communist Party and Living Marxism, now of Spiked, has had me reaching for mine. He accuses me of lying, a charge which might send a less liberal journalist than me to his lawyers. He says my charge that his comrades and the Brexit Party's European Parliament candidates Claire Fox, James Heartfield and Alka Sehgal Cuthbert are cavalier about the abuse of children “are lies, straight-up, low-down lies,” “character assassination”, and an act of desperation by the remain side. The desperation is all his.

Nigel Farage’s Brexit Party pretends to stand for the traditional values of old England: Parliamentary sovereignty, patriotism and decency. However little the uninitiated thought of Farage, they would expect his candidates to condemn the IRA murdering children in Warrington and to take a strong line against child pornography. Not so. Or rather, not always. Claire Fox (top of the list of Brexit Party candidates for the North West), James Heartfield (one of the party's candidates in Yorkshire and the Humber) and Alka Sehgal Cuthbert (a candidate in London) are all former members of the Revolutionary Communist Party and its successor organisations.

Who will fight the British far right? The centre right, the left, the liberals? The European elections are giving Nigel Farage the chance to push for a catastrophic Brexit, and build a formidable and ugly nationalist movement. Yet allegedly serious politicians, who have a duty to oppose him, forget the national interest and their own self-interest and sit on their hands. Farage poses a mortal danger to the Conservative party. You would not guess it from the reaction of its leaders and PRs. They have provided no coherent argument against the Brexit party. Indeed, I have been hard-pressed to find any argument at all. Go to the Tories’ website and there is nothing. https://twitter.

One could almost look on Theresa May and Jeremy Corbyn and see a story of frustrated love. They could be happy, the soppy observer might think. If only they could get some time on their own, and unburden their hearts, they would find they were in perfect agreement. Alas, their inability to be honest with each other keeps them apart, and prevents them knowing their true feelings. Brexit is not a romance but a national tragedy. But in one respect at least it matches stories of unrequited love. Brexit is being defined by the inability of political leaders and much of the media to be honest with  themselves – and indeed anyone else. The result is the greatest outbreak of political lying of my lifetime.

Dogs might not bark because, as Sherlock Holmes observed, there’s no reason to bark when they see their master. Alternatively, dogs might not bark when fear reduces them to whimpers. Which is it for the British centre right? Is it friends with the far right or frightened of it? Look around and notice what isn’t happening. Last week at the Brexit-day-that-never-was demonstration in Westminster, an effigy of London’s secular Muslim mayor was allegedly dragged through the streets for no other reason than he was a Muslim. Sadiq Khan is a bit player in the Brexit debate, the least of the anti-Europeans’ problems. But the thought of my town having a Muslim leader was too much for some of the protestors to bear.

If racism is to succeed in corrupting institutions and countries it needs authorisation from the elite. The popular caricature of the racist as a white working-class man, or superstitious east european peasant, or shabby paranoid academic, shows not only class bias, but a lack of understanding that what transforms extremism from poisonous men muttering in corners to political movements with the power to ruin lives, is the authorisation given by leaders and intellectuals. A party can have racist members – as the Conservative party undoubtedly does. But because its leadership is not anti-Muslim their effect is constrained to personal abuse. I don’t mean to diminish it. If my experience is typical, race-based insults are something you never forget.

Chaos theory’s assertion that tiny changes can have dramatic effects is being vindicated with a vengeance in Westminster. If not quite as paltry as a butterfly flapping its wing in the Amazonian rain forest, the creation of the Independent Group seemed a small event. Eight Labour and three Tory MPs joined. Eleven in total. Just 11: despite all the provocations of Brexit and Corbyn. Is that it? I thought when the breakaway began, and filed the groupuscule away under “lost causes”. As it has turned out, the small difference has made all the difference. Last night the Labour party removed the whip from Chris Williamson, a supporter of the Maduro tyranny in Venezuela and the Cuban dictatorship.

To say that the May administration is ‘the worst government anyone can remember’ is to abuse the English language. It isn’t a government but a collection of factions so far apart I am surprised they can stay in the same cabinet. On the backbenches the European Research Group operates as a separate English nationalist party. Everywhere Tory politicians are scrambling to position themselves to succeed Theresa May, rather than holding on to any notion as quaint as putting their country before their careers. Yet faced with this ungoverning government, a maladministration that is so exhausted it is running out of Conservative MPs who can serve as ministers, the opposition is behind in the polls and Jeremy Corbyn is the most unpopular Labour leader ever.