Dominic Cummings and the battle for Downing
Street
By Nicholas Watt
With some of the finest English sparkling wine in full
flow, Boris Johnson placed his arms around Dominic Cummings.
In the
shadow of the grand portraits that dominate the Downing Street State Room, the
prime minister was showing his high regard for the man who had played an
instrumental role in delivering Brexit.
Pausing for
a moment at the Downing Street Brexit night party on 31 January, Johnson hailed
Cummings as a “genius”.
“It was
very, very clear that the only person who was singled out for praise and
attention was Dom,” one participant recalls.
“A couple of other people were mentioned but this was the genius guy who
delivered everything. For now the person Boris will turn to more than anyone
else is Dom.”
Cummings
welled up, not because he was moved by the prime ministerial attention. The man
whom many see as the dishevelled rule-breaker-in-chief is rarely left in awe by
authority. He struggled for words - overcome with emotion that his Brexit dream
was actually happening, nearly four years after he helped mastermind the
successful Vote Leave campaign in the Brexit referendum.
The man who
had helped deliver the vote had gone on, in the prime minister’s eyes, to save
the project. It was Cummings who was invited to become Johnson’s chief
strategist after his election as Conservative leader last July. “Get Brexit
done” was the sound bite of the subsequent general election. Cummings was
credited with it.
But within
days of that prime ministerial hug, there were questions. Was Cummings losing
influence? When Johnson backed HS2, the high-speed rail scheme which came with
a significant dollop of Cummings scepticism, commentators suggested the
strategic adviser had lost big. A significant re-organisation of the
departments of government which Cummings backed also appeared to have been put
not so much on the back burner as taken off the cooker altogether. Was Svengali
becoming SAINO? Strategic Adviser in Name Only.
Not so
fast, it seems. Cummings is now back with a vengeance after orchestrating a
cabinet reshuffle which shook the Conservative Party. Sajid Javid decided to
resign as chancellor rather than accept that all his special advisers would
have to go, replaced by a joint No 10/Treasury team.
The PM told
Javid that he was a valued member of the government. Javid said the ultimatum
could not be accepted by any “self-respecting minister” and quit.
Cummings
was not present at the No 10 meeting between the prime minister and chancellor,
but his handiwork was detected in a brutal display of power to rein in a
chancellor unafraid to speak his mind.
Downing
Street feared that, as a fiscal hawk who believes in keeping a tight grip on
public spending, Javid could undermine its plans for a dramatic increase in
spending targeted at northern seats won by the Tories in December’s election.
Losing one
battle one week and then triumphing against the mighty Treasury the next raises
questions about where Cummings stands in the inevitable power struggles that
beset any government. One friend says his influence is best understood by
taking a long-term view.
“Dom sees
that long game, so when everyone was writing him off last week he was probably
thinking, ‘They don’t know what is coming’. And he doesn’t really care about
the day-to-day stuff and he never corrects it.”
Cummings is
increasingly garnering much attention. His idiosyncratic dress sense, as he
walks up Downing Street in a bobble hat with a shirt hanging out of the back of
his trousers, is a gift for photographers.
And then
there is his carefully crafted mystique. As he faced questions recently about
his influence, he resorted to cartoon references that were obscure, unless you
happen to be a five-year-old child. Asked by a journalist on his doorstep about
the decision of the prime minister to override his advice by pressing ahead
with the HS2 rail project, Cummings said: “The night time is the right time to
fight crime – I can’t think of a rhyme.”
The cryptic
line comes from the theme tune for PJ Masks, a children’s cartoon, in which
youngsters wear special outfits to fight dangerous foes in the dead of night.
Cummings
had successfully kept himself in the public eye with a comic turn, while
appearing to show indifference to the attention.
But behind
the part-gruff, part-mannered exterior lurks a rare beast in British politics:
a thinker who has read widely, is frustrated with current government structures
and who believes that it is only by lobbing proverbial hand grenades into
established institutions that anyone can deliver lasting change.
As a public
schoolboy who went to Oxford and tends to hang round in aristocratic circles,
Dominic Cummings is an unlikely champion of the dispossessed.
But the
defining mission of his career is to articulate and channel the frustration of
voters who feel alienated by what has been described as the Westminster elite.
Identifying the anger of these voters helped him deliver the three unequivocal
successes of his career – winning a 2004 referendum, which killed off the then
Labour government’s plans for a political assembly in the north-east of
England; winning the 2016 Brexit referendum; and finally helping to mastermind
last December’s election win as voters in Labour’s “Red Wall” in the north of
England defected to the Tories.
Cummings
believes the fate of Boris Johnson’s government will depend on whether it
delivers for these “left behind” towns where voters feel little connection with
the often more affluent cities. That explains his opposition to HS2, an elitist
project in his view which links affluent cities and bypasses towns with greater
needs.
As Javid
found out this week, Cummings will not allow anyone or anything to get in the
way of spending that must, in his view, be targeted at the Red Wall. For him it
is about more than trying to keep newly acquired seats in the Tory fold. It is
about showing that a whole generation of dispossessed voters can have a stake
in society.
For now he
is focused on major public spending to rebuild an infrastructure neglected
during the years of austerity which he opposed. But Cummings believes that, in
the longer term, the best hope for such communities lies in improving the state
of schools.
His record
on education is also an important way of assessing his likely success in
Downing Street. It is the only area where he has previously worked in
government.
In the
final years of opposition before the Tories’ partial win in the 2010 general
election, Michael Gove teamed up with Cummings to plan a schools
revolution.
During the
week, the pair would work on expanding Tony Blair’s academy schools and ushering
in a new era of “free schools” that could be set up by parents and voluntary
groups.
At the
weekends Gove and wife Sarah Vine, a columnist for the Daily Mail, would join
other members of the gilded Cameron circle.
Cummings,
however, would tell friends of his disdain for “elites” and entertain
journalists with regular attacks on the “entitled” Cameron in the run up to the
2010 general election.
When Gove
entered the cabinet as education secretary, Cummings acted as an unofficial
adviser after Andy Coulson, Cameron’s director of communications, blocked him
from working in government. When the tabloid newspaper phone-hacking scandal
ended Coulson’s career in politics in early 2011, Cummings finally formalised
his role.
He and Gove
turned their fire on the “blob”, the word they used for what they considered to
be the education “establishment”, including parts of the department they ran,
local authorities and teachers’ unions. This ill-defined group was supposedly
trying to thwart their schools revolution.
One admirer
at the time said that in delivering this vision Cummings was heavily influenced
by Lenin, who famously argued that “you cannot make a revolution in white
gloves”.
“Dom is a
much more successful Leninist than any of the Leninists around Corbyn,” the
friend says.
Cummings
rather enjoys being compared to the father of the Russian revolution. But when
he heard that someone close to Cameron had compared him to Mao, he threw back a
quote from the founder of the People’s Republic of China at the Downing Street
dilettantes. “A revolution is not a dinner party, comrade,” he would say.
Cummings
worked with Gove for just under three years until Cummings resigned in early
2014 out of frustration when his plan to scrap GCSEs was vetoed. That
experience shows what Cummings can do if he feels his advice is ignored - just
walk out.
Ultimately,
however, a cloud hangs over Cummings’s time in government after Cameron was
forced to demote Gove in the summer of 2014 from the job he loved to an
unlikely job as chief whip – the person charged with trying to enforce
parliamentary discipline among MPs. Cameron acted after the party’s election
and polling guru Lynton Crosby found that few people understood the schools
reforms and teachers had been almost entirely alienated.
Schools
reform, one of the coalition’s achievements hailed by Cameron’s Downing Street,
had become so toxic that the prime minister felt obliged to demote his closest
friend in cabinet after George Osborne.
The subtle
and painstaking business of building alliances in government is a wholly
different challenge to advocating one simple case in the binary choice offered
in a referendum.
Sir Craig
Oliver, Cameron’s director of communications who sparred with Cummings in
government and then in the Brexit referendum campaign, believes his record in
government should serve as a warning to Boris Johnson. “He’s brilliant at
creating a kind of guerrilla warfare against the establishment, and he found
the weak spots and probed them relentlessly,” Oliver says. “Identifying an
enemy and vilifying them is extremely effective. But if you have to negotiate
and live with people, for example teachers, it's unsurprising they don't like
it if you do that. And it starts to work against you.”
Cummings is
unlikely to care what the Cameron circle thinks about him. He scorns the former
PM who hails, in his eyes, from the “moneyed classes”, those with an easy route
from studying Politics, Philosophy and Economics at Oxford into the political
world.
Cummings,
of course, is no stranger himself to middle-class privilege. As the son of an
oil rig construction manager and a special needs teacher, his background was solidly
middle class in the north east of England. He attended the fee-paying Durham
School and Exeter College, Oxford.
In Tory
circles there is a weary raising of the eyebrow at this champion of the
dispossessed. Cummings is no stranger to grand - and at times aristocratic -
social circles. His father- in-law, Sir Edward Humphry Tyrrell Wakefield, is a
former Christie’s expert on antiques and owner of the medieval Chillingham
Castle in Northumberland.
For
Cummings it appears to be a case of weekends with the aristocracy and weekdays
as an outsider in London.
De Beauvoir
Deli is something of a haven in Hackney for the well-heeled, both young and
old, who graze on roast beetroot and dukkah.
When out of
the Westminster fray, Cummings often whiles away hours there, reading the likes
of Anna Karenina or composing one of his lengthy blogs.
The blogs
serve as a personal manifesto and show his likes and dislikes. He is generally
scornful of arts graduates - he is one - and more respectful of maths and
science graduates. He is largely self-taught in maths, saying he has been able
to yank himself up to postgraduate level.
In a
237-page manifesto, published in 2013, he outlined his core philosophy on
education. Cummings borrowed a phrase from the physicist, Murray Gell-Mann,
about fostering an “Odyssean education” which encompasses maths and the natural
sciences, the social sciences and the humanities and arts. This approach takes
its name from the tortuous 10-year journey home of Odysseus after the fall of
Troy.
For British
readers of an older generation this had echoes of CP Snow, the polymath writer
and physical chemist, whose landmark 1959 lecture The Two Cultures bemoaned the
gulf between scientists and writers.
In a nod to
Snow, Cummings wrote: “Who knows what would happen to a political culture if a
party embraced education and science as its defining mission and therefore
changed the nature of the people running it and the way they make decisions and
priorities.”
Cummings,
who studied ancient and modern history at Oxford, provides an insight into his
own political tactics by citing at length two giant influences from the ancient
and modern worlds. Thucydides, the Athenian general who chronicled the war
between Athens and Sparta, and Otto von Bismarck, the “Iron chancellor” who was
instrumental in the unification of Germany in 1871.
In his
blogs, Cummings cites Thucydides writing of the Battle of Salamis in 480BC: “A
man harms his foes thus: those things they most dread he discovers, carefully
investigates, then inflicts upon them.” Cummings remembered this lesson in the
Brexit referendum.
He is also
fond of quoting Bismarck.
“Politics…
is the capacity to choose in each fleeting moment of the situation that which
is least harmful or most opportune… With a gentleman I am always a gentleman
and a half, and with a pirate I try to be a pirate and a half.”
Eyebrows
have been raised at Cummings’s interest in such a militaristic figure. But one
friend says: “Dominic doesn’t think Bismarck was right to go to war. He may not
have approved of the methods and the motive but actually when the task was
there he did it.”
Some close
to Cummings have advised him in recent years to steer clear of the most
contentious element of the “Odyssean education” blog - his interest in
genetics. Cummings cited research which claimed that the variation in
children’s performance at school is explained in large part by genes. In one
example, geneticist Robert Plomin showed that 70% of the variation in scores in
phonics tests is down to “heritability” genes, according to Cummings.
In the most
controversial section of the manifesto, he wrote that discovering “genes
responsible for general cognitive ability and specific abilities and
disabilities” would “enable truly personalised education including early
intervention for specific learning difficulties”. Cummings added: “When forced
to confront such scientific developments, the education world and politicians
are likely to handle them badly partly because there is such strong resistance
across the political spectrum to accepting scientific evidence on genetics.”
Discussions
about the role of genetics in education can be highly controversial - they are
way outside the political mainstream. That no doubt fuels Cummings’s interest,
though he insists his findings are always based on reading serious academic
research.
One former
colleague believes Cummings would be well advised to employ an editor to vet
his blogs. “Dom doesn’t do the kind of epitome of languid ease with which Brits
have officially conducted intellectual life,” the friend says. “But Christ, he
needs an editor.”
The blogs
shine a light into the soul of this iconoclast who delighted in chucking bricks
at the establishment from the day he set foot in the political world. At the
turn of the millennium he was an instrumental figure in the Business for
Sterling and Europe Yes/Euro No campaign which helped force Tony Blair to
abandon his dream of joining the euro. Key themes which helped him win the
Brexit referendum nearly 20 years later could be detected. One of its slogans
was Keep the Pound, Keep Control.
Cummings
first crossed paths at this stage with Matthew Elliott, a veteran Eurosceptic
campaigner who would later recruit him to the Vote Leave campaign. When
Cummings eventually accepted Elliott’s offer they dispensed traditional
Eurosceptic messages about the sovereignty of Parliament and the simple message
of taking back control.
As the
insurgent, Cummings spearheaded a highly controversial campaign which claimed
Britain could not stop Turkey joining the EU (untrue) and made great play of
the £350m-a-week the UK sent to the EU. That was a gross figure (deemed
"potentially misleading" by the UK Statistics Authority) that failed
to account for Britain's rebate, as well as EU spending in the UK.
Cummings
relished the rows with his opponents and at one point sent an internal email
saying: “We do all our best work in the gutter.”
Some of his
tactics proved too much for Eurosceptic grandees who tried to downgrade
Cummings’s position, a “coup” that failed when his senior staff threatened to
walk out of the campaign. Relations with Elliott never recovered when he tried
to act as a go-between amid the warring factions.
One senior
Tory was so alarmed he raised Cummings’s behaviour with Michael Gove. “What
you’ve got to understand is, he’s a Leninist,” Gove replied.
“You mean
the ends justify the means?” the Tory grandee lamented as the consequences sunk
in of having a latter-day revolutionary among their ranks.
There is
much to be learnt about the man at the heart of Number 10 from an analysis of
the Brexit referendum and Cummings’s role in it. There were moments when
emotions spilled out – such as when Cummings punched a hole in the ceiling
during the night of celebration following victory.
There were
also allegations after the campaign.
In July
2018 the Vote Leave campaign was fined £61,000 by the Electoral Commission for
channelling hundreds of thousands of pounds to the Brexit youth group BeLeave
allegedly to avoid breaching Vote Leave’s legal £7m spending limit.
The BeLeave
group paid just over £675,000 to the Canadian data analytics company, Aggregate
IQ. The commission said that BeLeave’s spending was “incurred under a common
plan with Vote Leave”. Vote Leave rejected the commission’s findings.
The use of
data was one of the most controversial aspects of the Vote Leave campaign which
spent more than a third of its £7m budget on services provided by Aggregate IQ,
according to the Commons Digital Select Committee. The company targets ads on
social media platforms such as Facebook, with those from the BeLeave group
being seen five million times on the social media platform.
James
Graham, who wrote the screenplay for the Channel Four drama, Brexit: The Uncivil
War, said that the intense focus on the use of data during the campaign was a
highly sensitive matter for Cummings, whom he first met over a rather drunken
pizza session with the other members of the Vote Leave team.
A second
meeting, with Benedict Cumberbatch – who played Cummings - in attendance, was
held over a dinner of vegan pie at Cummings’s north London house. Graham
arrived before Cumberbatch, giving Cummings a chance to raise his concerns
about how the drama might deal with the data row.
“Dominic
imagined that [the data storyline] was going to be misrepresented as some kind
of malign magic potion set free on our country like a chemical gas,” says
Graham. “He just wanted to explain exactly what the intention behind that was
and how it was used. He wanted to impress upon me they didn't data mine Britain
and it wasn't so much about targeting. His belief, and of course he might be
overselling the other side of this, was that you can obsess too much on the
Andy Warhol thing, the medium and the message, you can obsess too much about
the delivery mechanism. But it was the message that won.”
After the
victory most of the campaign personnel, from Michael Gove down, rowed in behind
Boris Johnson in his first effort to become Tory leader.
Cummings
supported Johnson but decided he wanted a break. “I’m not going to be around
for the leadership campaign, I promised Mary [his wife, the journalist Mary
Wakefield] that I wouldn’t,” he told colleagues who went off to work on the
Johnson campaign. “I’ll come back if we win.”
Johnson
didn’t and Theresa May became prime minister, leaving Cummings with time on his
hands. He turned his mind to saving Brexit on the grounds that what he regarded
as the timid approach of the new prime minister risked the entire project.
In a
prophetic move, he also thought about how Whitehall should be reconfigured in
the spirit of his “Odyssean education” approach. By the end of June last year,
with May in crisis and Johnson heading for Number 10, Cummings set out his
thinking in another lengthy blog.
Cummings
focused in particular on two figures - the “brilliant” physicist, Michael
Nielsen, and the “genuine visionary” in the computing world, Bret Victor.
For those
who find the Cummings blogs a tad impenetrable, this one is illustrated with
numerous pictures of low tech cabinet rooms and government emergency centres
next to the high tech Nasa control room. Cummings used the photos to show - in
his opinion - how ill-prepared government is to deal with unpredictable crises
and to harness technology to evolve day-to-day policy.
Cummings
believes Victor has the answer with his ideas on work settings as “seeing
rooms” which are totally repurposed. Individual computer screens are discarded
so that technology uses the whole room as a work space.
Victor’s
Dynamic Land building in Berkeley California inspired Cummings with ideas for
government.
In his
blog, Cummings explains: “It is a large connected set of rooms that have
computing embedded in surfaces. For example, you can scribble equations on a
bit of paper, cameras in the ceiling read your scribbles automatically, turn
them into code, and execute them - for example, by producing graphics... This
is all hard to explain/understand because you haven’t seen anything like it
even in sci-fi films (it’s telling the media still uses the 15 year-old
Minority Report as its sci-fi illustration for such things).”
All food
for thought for a strategist with aspirations to change Whitehall, if not the
world.
For someone
who regards himself as a disruptive outsider, Dominic Cummings has never felt
the need to please anyone. And so Boris Johnson had his work cut out when he
asked Cummings to join him in Downing Street last July. The new prime minister
described it as a “hairy” mission.
One friend
recalls: “Boris was really turning the thumbscrews on Dom saying, ‘You’ve got
to come in, you’ve got to come in.’”
Cummings
tabled what he called a series of “terrorist demands” to the incoming prime
minister after judging, according to one friend, that his team had monumentally
failed to draw up a coherent plan.
The boldest
demand, which was at the centre of the eventual showdown with Sajid Javid, was
to be given control of the network of special advisers, the political
appointees who work for cabinet ministers. By controlling the special advisers
Cummings would gain significant leverage over cabinet ministers.
To his
surprise, the new prime minister said yes to his demands. Cummings therefore
entered Downing Street with one immediate plan - to sort out the “mess” of
Brexit - and a longer vision to transform the workings of government.
“We are
going to bulldoze our way to make sure Brexit happens,” was the Cummings view
at the time. “It has to happen.”
In a
fraught autumn for the Tory party, which saw the evisceration of the
pro-European wing of the party, Cummings deployed his own powers, sometimes
without mercy.
Relations
started to sour with Javid when his special adviser Sonia Khan was
unceremoniously and highly controversially marched out of No 10 last August
after falling out with Cummings. The sacking of Khan - who was escorted out of
Downing Street by an armed police officer - chilled the atmosphere in
Whitehall. Javid was not even aware it was happening.
Cummings is
not the loner he is sometimes portrayed as, and knows power when he sees it. On
the day Johnson became prime minister, a scruffy-looking Cummings made sure to
frame himself in the corner of a photo taken as the cabinet secretary and the
man in charge of the civil service, Sir Mark Sedwill, welcomed the new PM to No
10. Sedwill could well be seen as the epitome of the sort of generalist - a
career flitting between the Foreign Office and the Home Office - scorned by
Cummings.
But Gisela
Stuart, the former Labour minister who chaired the Vote Leave campaign, who
knows both men well, says: “I remember looking at that picture and I thought
Sedwill and Dom have a lot in common. Both of them are big picture people, both
of them are deeply strategic, both of them are terribly focused. I think they
want the same thing.”
With the
fate of Brexit unknown in a hung parliament, Cummings advised Johnson to take a
risky gamble by going for an early general election.
Cummings is
widely praised for pushing for it but was blunt about the dangers at the time.
“This election is very risky, very risky for us,” he was heard to say. “Anyone
who says they know what is going to happen or thinks we will walk it is an
idiot.”
The
electoral gamble paid off. But Cummings was unhappy – feeling that his control
of special advisers had failed to impose enough discipline. He was highly
suspicious of the team working for Javid. Cummings had technically taken
control of the network of special advisers but they were still in effect
answerable to their cabinet minister and not to him.
Also,
Cummings wanted to inject new characters into the machinery of government. He
used a blog on 2 January to call on “weirdos and misfits with odd skills” to
join him in delivering the large changes in policy and decision-making he said
were required by Brexit.
Cummings
indicated that 35,000 people had answered his call. They must have been
attracted by the job specification in which he wrote: “I don’t want confident
public school bluffers. I want people who are much brighter than me who can
work in an extreme environment. If you play office politics, you will be
discovered and immediately binned.”
But
Cummings faced a rebuke from a writer cited in one of his blogs. William Gibson
mocked Cummings for appearing to liken himself to the “quasi evil genius”
Hubertus Bigend in his novel Pattern Recognition. “The idea of people like that
being made bureaucrats is quite unnerving,” Gibson told the BBC.
A former
cabinet minister accuses Cummings of ruthless tactics which have involved
injecting populism into the political discourse and undermining the
constitution when parliament was suspended last year. David Gauke, who stood
unsuccessfully as an independent candidate in the election after he was
deprived of the Tory whip, says: “You can admire the ruthless determination to
pursue a strategy which very few people would do in as determined a manner as
he has done. But it is a strategy which is reckless and damaging for the
country in the undermining of institutions.”
But the
former MP Sir Nicholas Soames, who lost the Tory whip at the same time as
Gauke, admires Cummings. Soames, who eventually had the whip restored, says:
“Dominic Cummings is an exceptionally gifted and clever man. Every government
needs a disruptor. Governments that don’t have disruptors become complacent and
run out of steam. The predictable pretend loathing of Cummings is totally
pathetic.”
But
Cummings has made enemies in a potentially significant camp - friends of Sajid
Javid. “The handling of Sajid was gratuitous,” one said. “Is it really wise to
create a prince across the water so early on?”
Friends of
Cummings are divided on what the future holds for him as he lives with the
inevitable compromises of government. One says he is a pragmatist.
But another
says that Cummings’s irritation with David Cameron’s vetoing of his plan to
scrap GCSEs shows he is prepared to walk. “Dom is not there to please. He’s
there to get stuff done. If the principal, Boris, doesn’t follow that plan he
will say: ‘You’re not interested in taking my advice, I’m out of here.’”
A divisive
polemicist, both charming and abrasive, Dominic Cummings is wielding immense
power in the name of a prime minister with an historic mandate. It is a natural
meeting of minds between two idiosyncratic political beasts with eclectic
interests in the classical world and beyond.
Johnson
summoned Cummings in his first hour of need when Brexit and the future of the
Conservative party were in jeopardy. Cummings was the right fit for the first
phase of Boris Johnson in No 10. It will be a cliffhanger to see how long the
match lasts.
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