CAN COX BE OUR IRON DUKE OF BREXIT?
AS A provocative gesture, it could hardly have been more mischievous. Geoffrey Cox, the key Cabinet figure trying to secure Brexit, posted online an image of a portrait of the Duke of Wellington, whose finest hour was his victory over Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo, just 40 miles from Brussels.
As he engages in combat in the same city with a modern-day Frenchman, the European Union’s chief Brexit negotiator Michel Barnier, the British Government’s Attorney General clearly hopes that he, too, will prevail.
Accompanying his Wellington tweet, Mr Cox gave a simple caption: The Iron Duke. By invoking the spirit of one of Britain’s greatest heroes and taunting the ‘ enemy’, Mr Cox threw down the gauntlet.
Until his appointment as Attorney General last summer, the lawyer was best known as the MP with the biggest earnings from outside Parliament.
But now, with his booming voice and 35 years of experience in complex legal matters often involving international laws and treaties, he is Theresa May’s main weapon in Brussels.
His admirers cross the political spectrum. Philippe Sands QC, Professor of Law at University College London, describes him as ‘thoroughly independent and fearless in the best traditions of the English Bar.’ Andrew Mitchell MP, the former International Development Secretary, is another fan: ‘He looks and sounds like a proper, old-fashioned Attorney General. He has real presence and authority. Everyone knows he will give his advice without fear or favour – unlike some of his predecessors who served up what the Prime Minister wanted to hear.’
Yet before his surprise promotion to Cabinet, Cox divided his time between his job as a Devon MP and work as a QC. In 2014, he earned £821,000 at the Bar. Two years later he apologised to the Commons after forgetting to declare about £ 400,000 in outside earnings. He was also criticised for claiming parliamentary expenses of 49p for a bottle of milk, £2 worth of tea bags and £4.99 for ‘ weedkiller for space in front of the constituency office’ – all claims that were rejected.
A profile on the Conservative Home website revealed he often took his juniors to The Savoy for tea, ‘where they could digest the day’s play as well as the cakes’. He has done the same for MPs who want to explore the intricacies of Brexit.
His clients have included the Turkish government, journalists from The Sun accused of paying public officials for stories, a Liverpool FC footballer, the controversial property tycoon Nicholas Van Hoogstraten and a British Olympian ‘in proceedings for drug abuse’.
He also had a spell working in Mauritius as pupil master to the country’s prime minister.
Cox was annoyed when he was named among 229 investors in Phoenix Film in 2014 which offered tax breaks for investing in Hollywood movies. While the HMRC regarded it as a tax avoidance scheme, Cox insisted he had instructed his financial advisers that he did not wish to be involved in ‘aggressive tax avoidance’.
HISpolitical breakthrough came when ultra-Brexiteers Boris Johnson and David Davis quit the Cabinet and he was appointed as part of the ministerial reshuffle. On his Commons debut, he captivated MPs. His voice was described as being ‘as deep as a tuba’s lament’ and also likened to Mufasa, the character in The Lion King.
And at last autumn’s Tory party conference, he was chosen as Mrs May’s warm-up act. In his stirring conclusion, he said Britain would come to new life after Brexit and quoted the poet John Milton’s Areopagitica.
‘Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks: Methinks I see her as an eagle muing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazl’d eyes at the full midday beam.’
Looking older than his 58 years, this son of a soldier has such an impressive bearing that Commons Speaker John Bercow mistakenly once announced him as ‘Sir’ Geoffrey.
Mr COX replied: ‘ I am extremely obliged to you for promoting me, Mr Speaker. Perhaps I can take that as a hint to the Prime Minister.’
A rotund figure, he claims his recreations include swimming and enjoying rural life.
If his brinkmanship succeeds over Brexit negotiations in Brussels, he will have earned all the credit due.
If he fails, the PM will have a convenient scapegoat.
Geoffrey Cox, who relishes the cut and thrust of Cabinet life, was once asked what was his greatest achievement. He modestly replied: ‘Thirty-five years of marriage – well, it’s really my wife’s achievement, not mine.’
If he helps get Mrs May’s Brexit deal over the line it will certainly be his achievement – and one to match that of the Iron Duke on a Belgian battlefield 204 years ago.