Daily Mail

BORIS UNMUZZLED

Why he – NOT Carrie – would call the shots at No10 The VERY surprising heroes who inspire him The secret behind his new look His tough messages on Brexit and crime...

- By Jason Groves and Jack Doyle

BORIS Johnson bounds into the room in buoyant mood. In little over three weeks he will, barring an unlikely upset, realise his boyhood dream of becoming prime minister. The sun is shining on his campaign visit to North Yorkshire and he has just sheared a sheep named Joy for the cameras. As he sits down with the Mail, there is no hiding his ebullience. Yes, he insists he is ‘fighting for every vote and taking nothing for granted’. Yet with less than three weeks until the end of the campaign, he is comfortabl­y ahead in every poll of Tory members.

He is on the brink of power, and he can hardly contain himself. since he declared his intention to succeed Theresa May, Mr Johnson has been accused of hiding away from Press scrutiny, but there is no sign of that today. In his most revealing interview in years, he delivers a series of eyecatchin­g pledges and insists he can fulfil them all if he gets to No10.

Clearly determined to restore the Tories’ battered reputation as the party of law and order, he rages against sentencing laws that allow serious sexual and violent offenders to be released halfway through their term.

He declares his intention to tear up restrictio­ns on stop and search, saying he wants to free the police to do the jobs they signed up for and saying Mrs May got it wrong.

On Brexit, Mr Johnson warns the Tories are ‘haemorrhag­ing’ votes to the Lib Dems and Brexit Party and suggests Labour will want to help get Brexit done because of their ‘existentia­l’ crisis.

The public, he insists, are ‘so fed up with this discussion they just want to move on’. And he looks forward to a time after Brexit when ‘everyone can breathe again’ and the Conservati­ves can ‘relaunch’.

He also offers to sell us his clapped-out Toyota with 140,000 miles on the clock.

His quickfire answers are also revealing about his mood. His favourite quote is not from some obscure Latin text, but is the following: ‘It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.’

This dog, clearly, is up for the fight. But first he has to clean up after the sheep shearing.

‘Let me just wash my hands,’ he booms, leaving the room before returning moments later. He resists the temptation of a platter of pork pies but admits he’s had a ‘ nutritious Kit Kat for lunch – doctors recommend it’.

AS is often the way with Mr Johnson, he’s then prompted to tell a story – this time about his days as a reporter.

He says: ‘Kit Kat, which used to be made in York, I believe, in the old days. I remember when Rowntrees were bought by Nestle and there was a huge protest. You’re too young to remember it. I was actually sent to cover the protest by Rowntrees shareholde­rs against the takeover.’

Asked if we should make them British again, he thunders: ‘YEs!’

On sentencing, he spies a clear injustice, and thumps the table as he spells out his answer.

‘I’m afraid there are too many people, because of the way the sentencing law works, who have committed serious violence or sexual offences who are being let out, as the law prescribes, after they’ve served only half the sentence that is pronounced in open court. This

is happening! And I’m talking about serious sexual or violent offenders. And I think the public is noticing this quite properly. They don’t think it’s right, and I don’t think it’s right.’

Restrictio­ns on stop and search also need to go, Mr Johnson says.

‘When it comes to stop and search, I think the fact is that we went wrong when we decided to change the rules on the best use of stop and search.

‘We made it more difficult. And I think it’s important now that we change that balance back.’

No, it’s not the least bit racist, he says, adding: ‘ There is nothing remotely discrimina­tory about taking a knife off a kid who is going to wreck not just the lives of others, but wreck his life and the life of his family.

‘Having been through that I can tell you there are a few people who back stop and search more strongly than the mums of the kids who risk their lives by carrying knives.

‘And there’s nothing more loving and kind you can do than intercept a kid carrying a knife and ask him to turn out his pockets.’

What will he do when it comes to the end of October and he hits a roadblock? What if the EU won’t give him anything, and MPs stop No Deal in Parliament?

That wouldn’t happen ‘ in a month of sundays’, Mr Johnson declares.

‘ I’m very full of confidence’, he says, and the reason is that Brexit has become ‘ existentia­l for both parties’ and MPs just want to ‘ get this thing done’.

He adds: ‘Politics has changed since March 29 and there is a growing understand­ing in the House of Commons that this is existentia­l for both parties.

‘Look at where Labour is now – 18 points. These are not propitious circumstan­ces for either of the main parties and we need to move on and get this thing done.

‘We’re haemorrhag­ing votes to the Brexit Party and the Liberal Democrats and they are both predating on that sense of failure by the political establishm­ent.’

He downplays the idea he could suspend or ‘prorogue’ Parliament to force No Deal. ‘ I’m not attracted to archaic political devices. I would prefer to see our friends around the chamber recognise – and I think they do – that it’s our job now to get this thing done,’ he says.

‘That’s the way to restore trust and confidence to politics, end the uncertaint­y for business, allow everyone to breathe again.

‘And it will give us, the Conservati­ves, a moment really to relaunch ourselves with a vision for modern Conservati­sm that is exciting, that is about wealth creation, but also about fantastic public services and infrastruc­ture.’

Yes, Mr Johnson says, we should get ready for No Deal or a World Trade Organisati­on Brexit. But he thinks it’s unlikely. ‘I think we will get a much more commonsens­ical or practical arrangemen­t than the current withdrawal agreement, which is fatally flawed,’ he says.

Does his famous ‘do or die’ pledge to get Britain out by October 31 mean he would resign if we are still in the EU on November 1? Three times he deflects the question. ‘Unless we get it done, we die not in the literal sense… but actually we will face a slow political extinction. That’s the reality and I think people understand that,’ he answers.

‘I think people are so fed up with this discussion they just want to move on. I don’t want to sound over optimistic but I am very full of confidence we’re going to get this done.’ Isn’t his credibilit­y

undermined by his pledge to lie down ‘in front of bulldozers’ to prevent a third runway at Heathrow, which has not translated into a commitment to scrap it if he makes it to No10?

‘The bulldozers are a long way off,’ he replies. ‘Show me the bulldozers.’ Message discipline – not a Johnson strong point in the past – is now impressive.

Time and again, he points to his record as mayor of London. Cutting the murder rate by 50 per cent, reducing Tube delays, building affordable homes.

‘Sometimes I kept promises that people said were totally undelivera­ble and we did them!,’ he boasts.

He made, he says, a ‘material difference’ to the lives of Londoners, and his premiershi­p will be that idea, writ large: ‘What I want to do if I can, if I’m given the chance, is bring together the whole of the UK in the way we brought London together.’

But what about his private life? Is he about to become the first single man since Edward Heath to enter No10? Won’t he be lonely in what is already a famously lonely job? Or will his glamorous 31-yearold partner Carrie Symonds move in to keep him company?

It seems a reasonable question. The couple have been living together for some months, as the whole country knows following a flaming row last month which led to the police being called to her south London flat. He is divorcing his second wife Marina. And Miss Symonds’s close friend Nimco Ali says the ‘expectatio­n’ is they will marry. But for now at least, he is absolutely not saying whether he will make her Britain’s ‘First Lady’, arguing it would be ‘ presumptuo­us’ to talk about how his domestic arrangemen­ts might work while the contest is ongoing.

‘We are two or three weeks away from the end – that is a very long time in politics. I am fighting for every vote and taking nothing for granted. It would be folly to talk now about anybody, about me, moving into No10,’ he says.

What people want to know, he says, is ‘what’s my agenda for the country? What are we going to do to fight crime? What do we need to do to invest in transport infrastruc­ture.’ Well, maybe. Or maybe they want to know what role Miss Symonds might play in No10.

She is not a No10 spouse out of the Norma Major mould. A former head of communicat­ions for the Conservati­ve Party, she is a smart cookie, with strong political views of her own, who now works as a campaigner for the Oceana organisati­on, which lobbies for greater protection of the seas.

Can he guarantee she will not be allowed to interfere in government policy? After initially saying: ‘I just don’t talk about that kind of thing,’ he appears to accept it might be better to make it clear that he, the elected politician, will be in charge.

‘I will be deciding what we do,’ he says finally. ‘And I will be getting on with it.’ Despite, or perhaps because of, having one of the most colourful and wellreport­ed private lives in British politics, Mr Johnson considers the subject off limits.

Asked whether it is legitimate to raise questions about his past drug use (cannabis and a youthful experiment with cocaine), his extramarit­al affairs (plural) or even how many children he has (unknown), he suggests only the drugs are in order.

‘It is relevant to ask about class-A drugs, but you’ve had the answer,’ he says, ‘which is there was a total non-event when I was 19, which has been extensivel­y documented. As for the other members of my family, none of them is, as far as I know, standing for election.’

Asked whether his unwillingn­ess to answer a simple question about how many children he has says something about his character, he lets out a long sigh, before replying: ‘All I can say is I think what the public want to know is, do I deliver? Have I got massive ambitions for this country?’

With a revitalise­d Boris, there are frequent glimpses of the mischief of old not far below the surface.

What really gets him going is a discussion of his car – a 15-year-old jalopy, which Miss Symonds’s neighbours complained was frequently parked illegally and festooned with unpaid tickets.

Asked whether he thinks the multiple parking tickets are a sign that he thinks the rules don’t apply to him he feigns offence at the slight on his ‘superb machine’.

‘I’m not going to hear a word against that car,’ he says. ‘The snootiness and the snobbery. You’re attacking my car, you’re mocking my car.

‘You know, it’s done about 140,000 miles. I’m not saying I wouldn’t sell it to you if you made me the right offer.’

Here in the Westminste­r jungle, the animals hoot and holler as they await the arrival of a new ruler. And among David Attenborou­gh-style observers of this cut-throat and unpredicta­ble habitat, there is every expectatio­n that the big beast who will prevail will be the brawny lion with the flowing blond mane: Boris Johnson.

After having secured an emphatic victory in the vote by Tory MPs, Johnson is odds- on to win an even bigger endorsemen­t from the 160,000 Tory members who will receive their ballot papers over the weekend.

With polls suggesting two-thirds of members back him, Johnson hopes to pad up to Downing Street on July 22 and take residence in the lair of No 10.

Like every big cat, he needs a gang to support and protect him. Over the past six months, he has patched together an impressive alliance of Tory lions and lionesses who have been unified behind their champion, and each other.

But as the prospect of power comes into view, the splits have begun to show as rivals scrap for position and influence in the new regime.

In fact, there are SIX different packs circling around Johnson, all with competing interests and agendas.

Whether he can he satisfy them all will determine how long his reign lasts — and whether it starts with a roar or a pathetic mew.

Let’s begin with his most important personal relationsh­ip: that with 31-yearold environmen­talist and former Tory aide Carrie Symonds.

Until two weeks ago, it had caused him few headaches — apart from the emotional pain of having broken from his wife Marina and their four children.

Indeed, Carrie smartened him up, put him on a diet and an exercise regime that helped him lose weight, and got him a new hairstyle. She has also been credited with shaping his campaign and winning over several female MPs.

But since neighbours called the police to their South London flat and a tape was released to the Press of the couple engaged in a fiery row in which she was heard shouting ‘you have no care for money or anything’, he has struggled to fend off questions about their relationsh­ip.

Some rivals for Boris’s ear accuse her of then releasing the photo them sitting happily on a garden table in the middle of the Sussex countrysid­e, and argue this Pr misstep simply gave the story legs.

FOR Carrie is not just Boris’s girlfriend, she is an experience­d political operator in her own right, with a Westminste­r network — a pride let’s say — of activists, friends and allies all of her own.

Most prominent is Nimco Ali, a campaigner against female genital mutilation with whom she was pictured shopping for rings (a subtle hint to Boris?) in London this week.

When the Mail’s political editor Jason Groves and I interviewe­d Boris on Thursday, he refused to answer any questions about Carrie, other than insisting he would be in charge in No 10 when asked if she would influence him on policy.

Questions remain about whether she would live with him in the Downing Street flat and, if so, whether she would try to take on a more formal ‘ FLOTUK’ (First Lady of the United Kingdom) role — or wisely limit herself to behindthe-scenes counsel.

One ex-minister told me that Johnson’s blank refusal to talk

about his private life could pose problems in the future. ‘We can’t talk about Carrie because Boris won’t talk about Carrie. He thinks that if he opens the door to discussion everyone will pile in. What’s more, he’s going through a divorce so it’s very difficult.’

Boris Johnson also has an old guard of political allies.

Among them is MP Conor Burns, his former Foreign Office bag carrier, who has known Boris for so long that he can produce a pitchperfe­ct impression of his boss.

This group of alpha bull elephants, which includes Housing Minister Jake Berry, ex-minister Nigel Adams and Security Minister Ben Wallace, have stuck with him through thick and thin.

Other long-term loyalists to the Lion King date back to his days in London City Hall, including cheetah-like junior ministers Kit Malthouse and James Cleverly, and former council leader Sir eddie Lister, who was chief of staff to Mayor Johnson.

Lister is credited with pulling together the mayoral operation after a shaky start.

But as Johnson gets closer to No 10, some in this group fear their influence is waning because the former Foreign Secretary has acquired a coterie of new friends, and his previous associates worry about their status.

Sharp-incisored Wallace, who played a key role in Boris’s disastrous and abortive 2016 leadership campaign, has alienated rivals by wishing he could move to become Defence Secretary.

‘He’s spending too much time thinking about other jobs and not enough time defending Boris,’ one complains. In the early stages of the leadership campaign, these loyalists were invaluable in rallying backbench Tory MPs to the cause and feeding informatio­n to campaign headquarte­rs. Inevitably, however, as Boris picked up support, they were forced to take a more backseat role, and some are far from happy about it.

When the campaign moved from Parliament out into the country and the party membership, Lynton Crosby — the Australian political strategist known as the Wizard of Oz — also took a more prominent role.

His business partner, Mark Fullbrook, was sent to handle the second phase, but his demands for discipline were so tough that they punctured several MPs’ delicate egos.

Among the most important of the new arrivals is Gavin Williamson, the panther- like former defence secretary sacked by Theresa May two months ago for allegedly leaking from the National Security Council about its discussion­s around the Chinese electronic­s giant Huawei. He commands a small army of supporters in the Commons and injected steely discipline into Team Boris at a critical early stage.

He will seek — and surely secure — a return to Cabinet.

One source said Wallace and Williamson are bitter rivals because both want the defence brief.

Meanwhile, a handful of ambitious Cabinet ministers, who never warmed to Boris Johnson in the past, have abandoned concerns about his suitabilit­y to be PM in pursuit of their own promotion.

Health Secretary Matt Hancock, the most senior Cameroon left in government, was one of these leopards changing their spots.

This week he clashed publicly with Chief Secretary to the Treasury Liz Truss over Johnson’s wish to review the tax on sugar-sweetened drinks to combat the obesity crisis, which Hancock previously championed. Their enmity is fuelled by ambition: both would dearly love to be Chancellor.

But Boris Johnson learnt his lesson from his short-lived 2016 leadership campaign and isn’t offering any jobs yet. He readily admits it will be ‘very difficult’ to satisfy everyone because they’re all ‘very keen’ on promotion.

Then there is the group he should fear most, the hardline Brexiteers in the european research Group, who have the hides of rhinos and who played such a central role in bringing down Mrs May.

Its chairman, Jacob rees-Mogg, may be part of Team Boris, but others — notably self-styled ‘hard man’ Steve Baker — have made a series of not- so- subtle warnings about Boris’s Brexit policy.

With an alliance which also includes several prominent exremainer­s, such euroscepti­cs already fear a stitch- up. Last week, Iain Duncan Smith was brought in as campaign chairman to settle nerves.

BUT if Boris’s pledge to carry out Brexit ‘ do or die’ by October 31 isn’t fulfilled — and he starts to move away from the No Deal exit which Baker and other hardcore Leavers crave — there will be trouble.

This pack of hyenas is still wiping Mrs May’s blood from their claws, and could quickly turn on Boris.

The leadership campaign has, for a short time, hidden the Brexit divisions which run so deep within the party, but how long can that last? In the past, Boris has been happy to play allies off against each other and allow them to compete for his attention.

But if he makes it to No 10, with a parliament­ary majority of just three, this fragile coalition, built on unbridgeab­le political divides, thwarted ambition and bitter personal rivalries, could very quickly implode.

Then Boris really will learn about the brutality of the animal kingdom. As Zira, the leader of the Outsiders in the Lion King, said: ‘If you will not fight, then you will die as well.’

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 ?? Picture: BRUCE ADAMS ?? Ebullient: Boris Johnson is on the brink of entering No10 Above: With Carrie Symonds
Picture: BRUCE ADAMS Ebullient: Boris Johnson is on the brink of entering No10 Above: With Carrie Symonds
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