Is Boris Johnson for real?

By Jeremy Cliffe

It was February 21st and time was running out for Boris Johnson. The outgoing Conservative mayor of London had promised the Daily Telegraph an exclusive column in which he would declare his position in Britain’s referendum on EU membership. One Westminster rumour had it that he had written two versions, one for and one against (“I wrote all sorts of things,” he prevaricates when I put this to him). In the final hours, Europhile friends and family members called to urge him to back Remain. One recalls an ominous feeling: “Boris had become very Eurosceptic in our conversations.” Crowds of cameramen, journalists and passers-by gathered in his north London street; neighbours peered down from upstairs windows. At 4.40pm the mayor texted his – now incandescent – former schoolmate, David Cameron, to inform him he would break ranks. Nine minutes later he left his house, clutched his hair and, in a round-about way, delivered the news to the throng. The Telegraph had been scooped by its own columnist.