Boris Johnson and history
When you’re in a senior position, you have two objectives: to hang on to your job, and to have a good time.
It’s possible to overdo the second, if you forget the first. Here’s three examples from history:
In the Yellow River region of 11th century BC China, King Di Xin indulged himself famously in his later years, paid for by heavy taxes on the people. One extravaganza was a pond the size of two modern Olympic swimming pools, filled with wine and surrounded by trees hung with skewers of roasted meat, so that partygoers could float about in canoes eating and drinking their fill. Unsurprisingly, Di Xin was overthrown and the centuries-long Shang dynasty came to an end.
In fourteenth century England, Richard II (King at age ten) spent recklessly on war and his favourites. The boy was still only nineteen when he demanded a fortune in taxes on movable goods. He was also famous for his haute cuisine at a time when imported spices were hugely expensive, and reportedly, when Parliament asked him to retrench, replied that he would not so much as dismiss a single scullion in his kitchen. He too was deposed and for fear of his restoration was starved to death in captivity.
In nineteenth century Bavaria, King Ludwig II neglected his political duties and spent millions he didn’t have on castle-building and patronage of the arts, including Wagner’s operas. Ministers had him declared insane by a panel of doctors including Bernhard von Gudden, who’d never examined him but accompanied him to enforced custody at Berg Castle on the shores of Lake Starnberg. The next day, Gudden told colleagues that Ludwig was making progress, but the bodies of both men were found in the shallows of the lake that night. Officially Ludwig, a strong swimmer, was found to have drowned, though there was no water in his lungs; there was no post-mortem on Gudden, despite the fact that his body ‘showed blows to the head and neck and signs of strangulation.’
All these ill-fated leaders overstepped boundaries and failed to keep tabs on threats to their position. It was not the common people who overthrew them, but those around the throne.
In Boris Johnson’s case the defenestration, on what in retrospect must seem relatively trivial grounds, was not lethal. He may yet prove to be a trouble to the conspirators.