White House Chronicle

News Analysis With a Sense of Humor

The Future of Britain is on the Ballot

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By Llewellyn King

Long before our election in November, a much greater upheaval may hit Britain. Probably in late June, the country will vote on whether to stay in the European Union. Leaving is called “Brexit” in the British press.

While polls have consistently shown that voters favor Britain remaining a member of the 28-nation bloc, there are signs that things are changing. British business, which has until now seen its future as being in the EU, is beginning to rethink its support for British membership. A recent poll shows industry believing it could prosper out of the EU.

This is a big problem for British Prime Minister David Cameron. He has promised dramatic changes in Britain’s membership, which will be announced at the European summit next month.

Britain wants less-oppressive regulations and a change in immigration policy. It wants an end to what has been a fundamental part of the European structure: the freedom of movement between countries. In short: no more immigration to Britain from Europe.

It is a complex negotiation which Cameron believes he can win; particularly when Europe is in shaky shape after the economic crisis in Greece and from the surge of migrants from the Middle East and North Africa.

Although Europe’s political elites may have to hold their refined noses, the chances are better today than ever that they would rather their unruly island neighbors stay in than further damage the European project by withdrawing.

Predictably some economists say that Britain will do just fine without Europe, while others see dire economic consequences.

When the referendum comes, it will be a free vote with about half of Cameron’s Conservative Party voting to withdraw. These are the rambunctious “Euroskeptics” that have bedeviled British elections for generations and have made the role of Conservative prime ministers particularly trying.

The opposition Labor Party is divided on a Brexit. But Labor has so imploded under the extreme leftist Jeremy Corbyn that it is likely to go along and lend its support — feeble though it is — to the forces wishing to stay in the EU.

The Scottish Nationalists will also support continued membership. They hope that if they break away from the United Kingdom, they will get succor from the EU.

But the forces for exiting the EU are powerful and articulate. They are emboldened by Europe’s problems and the fact that they will no longer be bound by the dictates of, as they say, “faceless bureaucrats in Brussels.”

The wild card in the referendum may be England’s wild man: Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson.

Now finishing his term as mayor of London, Boris Johnson is a lovable version of Donald Trump. He has gone from scrape to scrape and has come out ahead of the game. For instance, three years after having won a seat in Parliament in 2001, Johnson was sacked by the Tory leader at the time, Michael Howard, for allegedly lying over an affair with journalist Petronella Wyatt. Johnson called newspaper stories about the affair “an inverted pyramid of piffle.” He was also sacked from his editorship of The Spectator, where the piffle took place.

But being elected to higher office is such a compensation, so Johnson, a bicycle-riding, tradition-loving maverick got himself elected mayor of London. In this office he saved the iconic double-decker buses, presided over the 2012 Summer Olympics, and endeared himself to an even wider audience.

The British revere Johnson’s eccentricity and voted him back into Parliament in the last election. Now people talk openly of him being Cameron’s successor after the referendum.

Johnson has hedged his bets on British membership in the EU. Just this week he declared that he will not lead the “Out” forces, but he does not totally endorse the “In” forces.

Here is the possible scenario: Cameron has to produce a deal that satisfies some of the Euroskeptics and set a date for referendum. Then the vote. Then the hangover, one way or another. Then Johnson makes his move – unless some schemer, like the current Chancellor of the Exchequer George Osborne, has not outmaneuvered the charming and brilliant Boris.

Cleverly Johnson has written a long political treatise comparing London to Athens, and leaving room for people to believe he has the qualities of Pericles, without actually claiming the great Greek’s mantle. Then, just to be safe, he has knocked off a highly laudatory biography of Churchill, which invites the idea that Johnson shares some of his hero’s traits.

This kind of effrontery makes British politics a perpetual night in the pub. Cheers! — For Inside Sources

The Unsinkable Donald Trump

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How many ways do I love Donald Trump, presidential candidate?

I love Donald Trump because he lives in a parallel universe.

I love Donald Trump because he is preposterous.

I love Donald Trump because he is outrageous.

I love Donald Trump because he is vulgar.

I love Donald Trump because he is an embarrassment.

I love Donald Trump because he is simplistic.

I love Donald Trump because he loves money: his.

I love Donald Trump because he makes a mockery of capitalism.

I love Donald Trump because he has trashed New York, Atlantic City and Los Angeles with tasteless structures.

I love Donald Trump because he lives in a parallel universe.

I love Donald Trump because he is an alien.

I love Donald Trump because he makes all other political grotesques look normal.

I love Donald Trump because he has the audacity to think he should be president.

I love Donald Trump because he loves Donald Trump.

It is the sheer ego of the man that overwhelms. Not since William Shakespeare created Malvolio in “Twelfth Night” has there been such a human edifice of self-adulation. Malvolio, one of Shakespeare’s enduring characters, has — as Trump would have us believe of himself — moral standards. But he has arrogance as high as the Trump Tower on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, and he is lambasted for being full of self-love.

Malvolio is a character in a comedy written in 1601. To measure The Donald, we must do so against the towering clowns of today.

First, let us take a look at Boris Johnson. He is painted in broad brushstrokes in British politics. He has been in many predicaments, from infidelity to just recently infuriating London’s famous taxi drivers by swearing at them – and from atop his bicycle, no less.

But Boris has also been a successful mayor of London (He saved the double-decker buses. Thank you.) and a vigorous performer in the House of Commons. And he is an odds-on favorite for Conservative prime minister if David Cameron should falter.

Boris is a classicist with a colossal ego, who hints that he is comparable to Pericles, the great statesman, orator, patron of the arts and general during the Golden Age of Athens from 460-429 B.C. He has a plaster cast of Pericles in his office, and has even compared London to Athens. One suspects Trump has a statue of himself in his office for religious purposes.

How about Sarah Palin? We’re getting warmer. She clubs halibut, decapitates turkeys (Watch out, Donald!) and somehow convinced some Republican kingmakers that she was of presidential timber. Like Trump, she was more of an entertainment on television than a serious politician — although we were getting close and if voters had not intervened, we might have had Palin a heartbeat away from the presidency.

When it comes to naked love of self, Trump is up there with the more extreme Roman emperors. Think Nero, who declared himself a god. But that might be a demotion for Trump.

You have got to love a man who can bring Iran into the fold in a day, humble China, befriend Vladimir Putin and make America “great again.” One wonders if he can do it all in six days.

I love Trump because Malvolio’s words fit, “Be not afraid of greatness: Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ’em.”

 


Lackluster City? Get a Brand

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If your city is mostly famous for being between two other cities, if its main claim to fame is “It’s a great place to raise children,” then it’s time for your city fathers to take a course in branding.
Cities that prosper — that bring in company headquarters, tourists and where the crazy rich want be — have to have distinguished brands.
New York’s brand is glorious excess. It has the brand of ever higher, stranger skyscrapers. The world’s most successful media mogul, Rupert Murdoch, has just plunked down $57.2 million for what looks to be the world’s most lonely living space: the top four floors of a 60-story, bronze-and-glass building of a kind that is now transforming the Manhattan skyline. Take a small plot of land, build until what you get is slender tower that defies nature and looks as though its purpose is to challenge a strong wind.
Murdoch’s aerie has glass on four sides, and he can see forever, at the least until other towers rise up. If you want to spy on him, you will have to do it by drone. His own paparazzi might try to get a picture using a drone, but where would they publish it?
If you have a few million to spare you can still get in the East 23rd Street building. But those that would make an eagle jealous have gone to Murdoch. Most of us would be scared up there: a new take on “Naked and Afraid” because without neighbors, there is no need to wear clothes.
Cities in the United States that have done the branding thing right are New Orleans, jazz and food; San Francisco, cable cars and attitude; Boston, higher education and hospitals (eds and meds); and Chicago, wind and the uber-hub airport. Washington is a special case: great museums, the White House and the Capitol, and palpable delusions of importance.
The branding ace, running in front worldwide, is London. The Romans gave it a head start, but it was not until the Swinging Sixties that London became a destination for the globe. You would think that the place had enough branding with the old features: Tower Bridge, the Tower, the Houses of Parliament and Buckingham Palace, plus the Changing of the Guard.
But no. London keeps adding dizzying new features to its brand superiority. There is the Tate Modern, an art gallery in an old power station; the London Eye, a Ferris wheel that has captured world attention and city imitators; a bridge across the Thames River that wobbles, and now a new bridge is planned with gardens and shops on it. Then there are the taxis — black boxes, that remind you where you are in case you have overlooked the big red buses.
The current mayor of London, Boris Johnson (who has branded himself as a possible prime minister) has been keen to preserve and protect the London brand by insisting on preserving the double-decker buses, distinctive taxis and other expensive city bric-a-brac, because it is a hell of an investment.
Sure Paris has the Eiffel Tower, but it is aging. Rome has the Coliseum — talk about aging. And St. Petersburg has the Winter Palace and the Hermitage. But for city branding, London is in front and pulling away, as the Brits exploit the cash value of differentness.
Providence and Baltimore are two cities of which I am particularly fond. But I would urge the city leadership in both places to get a brand, a trademark. It pays. Rides (London Eye, Eiffel Tower elevators, the San Francisco cable cars) are sure winners. Could I suggest an amphibious train across Baltimore Harbor, and the mother of all rollercoasters – big, but not scary — in Providence?
Like London and New York, these days you have got to think big in city branding, or you will miss the incredible fun and profit of a city being silly.
Frivolity pays, ask London’s Boris Johnson — and share a thought for Rupert Murdoch, stuck up in the sky. — For the Hearst-New York Times Syndicate

Boris Johnson: The Man Who Would Be British Prime Minister

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Make a note of the name: Boris Johnson. He is mayor of London. And in a few years, he has a high chance of becoming British prime minister.

In a time when politicians tend to be bland, and to believe it necessary to claim a politically correct pedigree, Johnson is a mold- breaker. 

He has been larger-than-life and in scrapes of his own making throughout one of the most colorful careers in public life. Yet Johnson has the knack for transmuting disaster into celebrity — and celebrity into fame and electoral success.

At Balliol College, Oxford, some claim he won the student presidency by pretending to support the Social Democratic Party, the dominant faction at the university. He was a member of Oxford's Bullingdon Club – a raucous dining group that specialized in trashing restaurants and willingly paying for the damages later. A film about these goings on, called “The Riot Club,” is in preparation. 

After taking a less-than-impressive degree in Classics, Johnson, whose family on both sides was well-connected, launched himself on the world as a management consultant. But that was short-lived because, as he said, “Try as I might, I could not look at an overhead projection of a growth-profit matrix and stay conscious.”

On to journalism — a refuge of sorts for scoundrels — and a trainee job at The Times of London. Oops! Johnson gets fired for falsifying a quote from his godfather. He works on a provincial paper for a while, and then moves on to the high-Tory Daily Telegraph, where he rises to assistant editor.

Meanwhile, Johnson has political ambitions and gets himself elected as a Conservative member of Parliament, where his antics enliven the House of Commons. As the British are a lot less sensitive about conflicts of interest than are Americans, soon he was editing the prestigious literary and conservative political magazine The Spectator while rising in the ranks of the Conservative Party. He is one of the most prolific writers to have sat in the House of Commons since Winston Churchill.

Johnson, who has a great, white shock of hair that belies the fact the one grandfather was Turkish, rides a bicycle and litters his oratory with classical references. He likes to use his knowledge of the ancient world to illustrate contemporary issues. He even made a television program on the Romans.

But scandal has a way of finding Johnson and his rake’s progress toward greatness. The Spectator – with a tiny staff — erupted sexual scandal during his time in the editor's chair. Get this: the publisher, an American woman, was having an affair with a blind member of the British cabinet, the features writer was having an affair with a secretary and Johnson, rising political star and father of four, was, you got it, in what the British like to call a “leg over” with a star columnist.

He was demoted in the conservative party, so he left the House of Commons and ran for mayor of London, defeating the socialist Ken Livingstone. He won a second term again running against Livingstone.

As mayor Johnson championed a revolutionary, new London bus. He cheered on London and the Olympics, took credit for its success and when he got stranded on a zip line with two British flags, one in each hand, he turned the disaster into another Johnson publicity success. He entertained the world’s press while suspended in mid-air.

Johnson is now planning a return to national politics in 2015, when he will contest an expectedly safe Conservative seat near London. As a kind of campaign opener, he has penned an extraordinary article in which he links London to ancient Athens and British democracy to the original. He glosses over the failings of the Greek state and the fact that Pericles, his hero, finally lost to the Spartans, while humorously making antiquity available to the British voter of today. It is political literary fun at its best.

Johnson’s re-entry into national politics will come at a critical moment when extreme-right parties threaten the old conservative bloc and Prime Minister David Cameron’s standing is low, and he is accused of the “re-toxification” of the Conservative Party. 

Read one of the greatest pieces of political writing by seeking out The Spectator on the Web. It is glorious stuff. — For the Hearst-New York Times Syndicate
 

Mass-Transit Enthusiasts: Get on the Bus

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Even railroad fanatics like me have to admit that the future of passenger transportation by rail, particularly urban commuter rail, is pretty well frozen where it is. New rail – even light rail, an idealistic indulgence – is doomed by high costs, lack of appropriate track, and political squabbling.

New subways, the elegant way to get around a city, by going under it, are an almost impossible dream. The costs are too great in times of austerity, and the costs of maintenance can be prohibitive as a system ages.

Increasingly, the future appears to be the humble bus. Buses have low capital costs, are flexible, and can be adjusted to demand and population changes in ways trains cannot.

Spare the groaning: The buses are coming. And today's bus need not be yesterday's – noisy, smelly, and unreliable.

London, which has possibly the best transportation infrastructure in the world, with a huge rail network, is nonetheless betting on buses. It's deploying a new bus that is designed for the times and preserves some of the features that have made its buses emblematic of the city, like the two decks. And, yes, they are red.

The new London buses are a meeting of nostalgia with high-tech and environmental sensibility. London was busy phasing out its traditional buses in favor of articulated buses, which bend in the middle, when a controversial and eccentric Conservative journalist turned politician, Boris Johnson, declared that if he were elected mayor, he would save the old buses, or at least the concept of double-deck buses. He won the election and ideas were sought from the public.

The result is what the tabloids call the "Boris Bus." It's a high-tech beauty that meets many demands. It has two doors and two staircases, but it's so low that wheelchairs are easily accommodated.

They are designed to have conductors during rush hours and to be operated by drivers only at other times.

They use modern composite materials from the airline industry and are hybrids, with diesel engines and regenerative breaking. That has made way for the lowering of the bottom deck, increasing stability while reducing weight.

The initial reception of this high-tech scion of the old and loved London bus has been so enthusiastic that Johnson is talked about as a future Conservative prime minister – riding the bus to the highest office in the land.

Back to our buses. They, too, are getting better, but less dramatically so. Between Washington and New York, there's now thriving bus service with half a dozen competing firms offering WiFi, toilets, and many points of departure. The ticket price, about $20 each way, is a fraction of those for Amtrak and airlines.

These intercity buses are diesel-powered, but many cities are using natural-gas-powered buses. That might yet seal the deal for buses as the future of urban transportation, reducing the use of cars. America is awash in natural gas. It also has less environmental impact.

Buses are at their best when, as my wife pointed out in London once, they run like conveyors. Frequently, that means enough dedicated bus lanes.

The Obama administration would be well advised to launch a bus initiative with emphasis on better vehicles, à la London, and dedicated bus lanes. The solution to urban congestion may be in a high-speed, WiFi-equipped, natural-gas-powered bus. — For the Hearst-New York Times Syndicate

Boris Johnson: Mayor of London, Clown of England

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I would like to introduce you to the new Conservative mayor of London, Boris Johnson. He is remarkable. He is unique. His political success is based on the oft-repeated pratfall. Yes, Johnson has committed every political sin and is now at the helm of the most important city in Europe, and the one best beloved by Americans.

In the age of the technocrat, Johnson is more like something out of a P.G. Wodehouse novel. For more than a decade, the British media have been regaled by Johnson’s “scrapes.” For example, he was demoted in the Conservative Party from a position on its front bench (which means that if the Tories had come back to power, he would have been a cabinet member) for variously insulting the city of Liverpool, antagonizing Pacific Islanders, and having an extramarital affair with Petronella Wyatt, a columnist at The Spectator, the weekly magazine which he edited.

Indeed, everyone at The Spectator seemed to be having an affair at the time Johnson occupied the editor’s chair. Publisher Kimberly Quinn, an American, was having an extramarital affair with David Blunkett, the blind British home secretary. Associate Editor Rod Liddle was having an extramarital affair with a Spectator secretary. Given that the staff is very small, that it is the oldest continuously published magazine in England (1828), and it is the seat of the Conservative intelligentsia, you can imagine how the tabloids loved the goings on. In fact, they took to calling Johnson “Boudoir Boris” and the magazine “The Sextator.”

Johnson was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and with which he has been able to cut himself. From Eton, the world’s most exclusive boarding school, Johnson sailed into Oxford University, where he distinguished himself as president of its debating society, The Oxford Union. Many a future prime minister has honed his skills debating at Oxford, and it seemed inevitable that Johnson would find his way into parliament. In 2001, he became a Conservative member.

Johnson’s running for mayor of London had all the characteristics of William F. Buckley Jr.’s running for mayor of New York. The only difference is that Johnson secured–to the horror of his party–the formal Conservative nomination, and now he is the mayor. At 43, he is one of the few executive mayors in England. He is a man known for his dazzling white hair, disorganization, irreverently witty tongue, and a sense that absolutely everything is not to be taken seriously.

Johnson was aided in his campaign because he was running against an equally bizarre, but more calculating, Ken Livingstone, also known as “Red Ken.” Livingstone had a long history in London politics and was elected to the new post of executive mayor eight years ago. Livingstone’s admiration of Fidel Castro and Hugo Chavez, coupled with his newly found affection for big business, offended the left and the right of his party. Yet, to his credit, Livingstone introduced congestion pricing, which has eased London traffic, and coped with the al-Qaeda subway bombings on July 7, 2005.

But in this election, the big issues like the 2012 Olympic Games in London and street crime were dwarfed by a silly argument over buses. Livingstone had decided that it was time to replace London’s double-decker fleet with flexible single-deck buses, commonly called “bendy” buses. The argument is one of tradition versus modernity. Johnson, who mostly rides a bicycle, wants the double-decker Routemaster buses redesigned and saved. He wants to ban the bendy buses that he believes hurt the image of London as well as being, well, un-English: the Routemasters are made in England and the bendys are made in Germany.

The Conservative Party is not so happy about Johnson winning the executive mayoral race. They feel that he will embarrass the party leader, David Cameron, and generally humiliate Tory values. Johnson has the wit of Will Rodgers and none of the temperance. Here are some of Boris’s best:

“My friends, as I have discovered myself, there are no disasters, only opportunities. And, indeed, opportunities for fresh disasters.”

“I don’t see why people are so snooty about Channel 5. It has some respectable documentaries about the Second World War. It also devotes considerable airtime to investigations into lap dancing, and other related and vital subjects.”

“I love tennis with a passion. I challenged Boris Becker to a match once and he said he was up for it, but he never called back. I bet I could make him run around.”

“I have as much chance of becoming prime minister as of being decapitated by a Frisbee or of finding Elvis.”