Bettel the Devil You Know

     
   And tuning into Luxembourg late at night,

   And jazz and blues records during the day,

   Also, Debussy on the third programme,

   Early mornings when contemplation was best.

                                   
                                          'On Hyndford Street’, Van Morrison

Had it not been for Sir George Ivan "Van" Morrison, I’m not sure that I could name one thing that Luxembourg had ever given the world. By all accounts the great man from East Belfast couldn’t get enough of the country’s radio station and no doubt mourns still its 1992 demise. But the radio station notwithstanding (and I take Van’s word that it was a fine one), what has Europe’s smallest nation state ever given us? I dipped in to its Wikipedia page hoping that the list of ‘Notable Luxembourgers’ there would remind me of some of the greats who I’d simply just forgotten. However, the list seemed to be not so much a list of famous artists, scientists and sports stars, but rather a list of everyone who has ever lived there - with Jean of Luxembourg and Henri of Luxembourg clearly two of its more memorable inhabitants. An odd place, then, for our current Prime Minister to come unstuck.

No doubt chastened by criticism that he wasn’t doing enough to secure a last-minute Brexit deal, Johnson arrived in Luxembourg determined to show he meant business. The day began with talks with the man who (allegedly) has done more than any other to support Luxembourg’s underwhelming wine industry, Jean Claude Juncker. While, as expected, these talks didn’t provide anything close to a breakthrough, they had the distinct advantage of passing without incident. Au contraire – as I think at least a third of Luxembourg's population might say – there was even talk about further, more intensive talks. Perhaps a Brexit deal could be struck after all.

It was later in the afternoon that things began to unravel. From his meeting with President Juncker, Johnson went on to meet the country’s hitherto unknown Prime Minister, Xavier Bettel. On his way into the Luxembourg Ministry of State, Johnson had been subjected to heckling from an impromptu group of anti-Brexit protesters. So impromptu, in fact, that they knew exactly where and when to gather, were able to secure a loud speaker system, and had the presence of mind to hand out large EU flags and Ode to Joy hymn sheets. It was almost - almost - as if they’d been given advance notice.

Rightly fearing that a press conference against this backdrop was something of a stitch up, Johnson and his team repeatedly requested that the press conference be held inside, away from the baying crowd. Not an unreasonable request, you might think. However, Bettel, who presumably had already told his mother that he was going to be live on TV, refused and insisted on carrying on regardless. Gesturing to the Boris Johnson-sized gap beside him, Bettel played to the gallery: 'It’s his responsibility,' he said. 'Your people - our people - count on you. But the clock is ticking, use your time wisely.' The British PM upstaged and embarrassed by his Luxembourger counterpart.

And oh, how Remain Britain laughed. The usual suspects danced on to Twitter mocking the ‘incredible sulk’, praising the statesmanship of the Luxembourg PM and celebrating the brave protestors. Shelagh Fogarty, host of a daily three-hour anti-Boris phone-in show, could barely contain her delight, giggling as the story broke live during her show. In a first for LBC (and in what was a clear contractual breach), James O'Brien was relegated to only the second most sanctimonious host of the day. Dr. Jennifer Cassidy, an Oxford University politics lecturer was similarly enchanted: ‘Take a bow Luxembourg, take a goddam glorious bow.’ Anna Soubry, leader and entire membership of Change UK was appalled. ‘Our Prime Minister is a disgraceful, mendacious buffoon who brings great shame on our country,' she tweeted. 'For the sake of our worldwide reputation and children and grandchildren’s future let’s stop this #Brexit crisis.' 

But Johnson doesn’t need Fogarty or Cassidy or Soubry. Nor does he need perennial critics David Lammy or Owen Jones or Gavin Esler. He needs the country to like him. And recent polls suggest that they do. And the incident outside the Ministry of State will again play well with his target base. Yesterday’s stunt was so blatant, the attempt to humiliate so unashamed, that Johnson refusing to take part will have resonated with many at home, standing in stark contrast as it did to the passive humiliation that was the hallmark of Theresa May's pitiful dealings in Europe. 

And if proof were needed that yesterday may not have been the disaster Remain had hoped, Johnson found, in the midst of the Twitterati pile on, a surprising ally. Nicholas Soames – who I recently discovered was Randolf Churchill’s son’s brother’s daughter’s son – took to Twitter to express solidarity with the man who only two weeks previously had booted him out of the conservative party. ‘Very poor behaviour by Luxembourg #showoff @BorisJohnson quite right not to be made a fool of #franklyunhelpfulgrandstanding,' tweeted the erstwhile Tory grandee.

David Jones, a former Brexit minister, agreed: 'If Remain supporters are revelling in this gratuitous rudeness to a British Prime Minister, they should examine their own motives. Most patriotic people would say it’s another good reason to leave on 31 October.' And the problem for Remain is that there are plenty of patriotic people in the UK. Yesterday gave Number 10 a very clear rallying cry:  If that is who they are, if that is how they behave, why would we want to stay? 

So here we are. Another ‘disastrous day’ for Boris Johnson. ‘Humiliated’ on the world stage. ‘Shown up’ as the ‘charlatan’ Remain want him to be. And yet, who’s to bet that we won’t see yet another fillip in the polls. When Remain laughed today, they laughed at Britain. They sided with a non-entity of a politician from a non-entity of a country against their own prime minister. But Boris won’t mind. They are not his target audience. The rest of the country will have seen our Prime Minister refusing to dance to the tune of a Prime Minister of a country with fewer subjects that a girly swot in her final year of GCSEs. And they’ll have loved it. 

Van Morrison’s back catalogue is impressive. Indeed, were he so-inclined, he could probably dedicate at least one song to every family in Luxembourg. Were he to dedicate one to Boris Johnson, perhaps he’d choose ‘There’ll Be Days Like This.' And indeed, there will. But Boris loves days like this. It’ll be Jeremy Corbyn, Jo Swinson and Remainers, up and down the country, who will be hoping he doesn’t have many more.