Dominic Cummings should go. Why is Boris Johnson defending him?

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Dominic Cummings, special adviser for Britain's Prime Minister Boris Johnson, leaves his home in London, Britain, March 23, 2020.
Dominic Cummings, special adviser for Britain's Prime Minister Boris Johnson, leaves his home in London, Britain, March 23, 2020.

Cummings, who former British Prime Minister David Cameron once called a 'career psychopath' for his ruthless ambition, has this time dismally failed to read the public mood

By Euan Reedie

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Published: Sat 30 May 2020, 10:03 AM

Last updated: Sat 22 Aug 2020, 11:36 AM

Dominic Cummings languidly strolled to crisis talks with British Prime Minister Boris Johnson last Sunday wearing a T-shirt and jogging trousers.
He appeared more like an inscouciant student than arguably the second-most powerful man in Britain, whose position had been imperilled by a selfish coronavirus lockdown breach.
Yet Cummings, Johnson's senior political aide, makes a living out of defying convention and his boss clearly deems him too important to sack.
Even the most seasoned of British political commentators could never remember an occasion like Cummings' farcical press conference on Monday.
Here was an unelected advisor, squirming in the sunshine in the Rose Garden of Downing Street, as assorted big-wigs from the British media stepped forward to interrogate him about his well-publicised jaunt.
I'm sure most readers are familiar with Cummings' 'crime' but, to recap, he drove his wife and young son on a 425-kilometre trip from London to Durham, north east England, in late March during the height of the coronavirus crisis.
This was after his wife began experiencing Covid-19 symptoms and, he claimed, justified as he was fearful of them being unable to care for their four-year-old son if Cummings contracted the disease.
In a detailed yet risible account of his actions, Cummings even admitted taking a 96km round trip to a local beauty spot, Durham Castle, to test his eyesight before he drove back to London.
This was a tragicomedy on a grand scale, which was rounded off with our pantomime villain insisting he had acted reasonably and would not resign.
Cummings' tale has provoked mounting fury in the UK given that at the time of his trip, the insistent advice from the government was to stay at home unless travelling for essential work, shopping or one-hour of exercise.
Outrage stems from the fact that it's one rule for the elite and another for us.
What Cummings did, on the face of it, was not a heinous crime.
Yet it feels like a massive slap in the face to those of us who have suffered during lockdown by abiding by regulations which Cummings has exploited.
Some people have even missed the chance to say a final goodbye to loved ones who died from the virus, or attend their funerals.
Cummings insisted on Monday that the guidelines allow for you to do what you feel is right in 'exceptional circumstances', but two ailing parents with a young son is hardly 'exceptional'.
If an elected minister had done what Cummings had done, they would have been summarily sacked or been forced to resign.
But, at the time of going to press, still Cummings clings on with the unequivocal backing of his chum Johnson.
As of Friday, two days after Johnson had urged the British public to 'move on' from the scandal, one million people had signed a petition to demand Cummings' dismissal. More than 40 MPs from Johnson's party, the Conservatives, have endorsed this sentiment.
The widespread feeling is that Johnson cannot do without his henchman, however. A succession of sycophantic cabinet ministers have backed the aide either in public or on social media.
Why?
Cummings was the mastermind behind the campaign that saw Britain vote to leave the European Union in 2016, deploying aggressive campaigning tactics including an infamous Brexit campaign bus emblazoned with a questionable promise of funding for the country's National Health Service.
The campaign was built on his simple yet devastatingly effective message of 'take back control', which appealed to disillusioned patriots sick of EU constraints.
Cummings then helped Johnson sweep the biggest General Election victory since 1987 last December with a campaign founded on another slogan, 'Get Brexit done'.
Yet Cummings, who former British Prime Minister David Cameron once called a 'career psychopath' for his ruthless ambition, has this time dismally failed to read the public mood.
Health messages have been severely undermined by Cummings' actions, with many disaffected Brits questioning: "If he can do it, why can't I?".
We already have the second-highest Covid-19 death toll in the world, so the only slogan that should resonate with Cummings now is: 'Time to go'.
 
Euan Reedie is a freelance writer and editor in the United Kingdom
 


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