‘People love him or hate him’ – Johnson provokes extreme reactions in Leeds

https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2019/jul/27/boris-johnson-leeds-north-england-people-love-or-hate

Version 0 of 1.

At the beginning of his story The Lazy Tour of Two Idle Apprentices, Charles Dickens describes a pair of passengers arriving at a dilapidated railway station. “Thus, Thomas and Francis got to Leeds,” he begins, “of which enterprising and important commercial centre it may be observed with delicacy, that you must either like it very much or not at all.”

A prime minister in campaigning mode: hi-vis Johnson heads north

Now, 160 years later, two trainee teachers are having a giggle at the same station at the end of an intense five-day conference. “When we saw that picture,” Amy tells her friend, “we all just burst out laughing.”

The source of their mirth was a photograph of the then mayor of London dangling helplessly on a zipwire during the 2012 Olympics. It appeared at a Teach First event the day Boris Johnson became the country’s 55th prime minister. The uproarious reaction by hundreds of graduates about to be parachuted into challenging schools confirmed that he will have his work cut out to win over young professionals.

Two cat-eared, self-declared geeks – Cam and Sophie – rushing to catch the Manchester train for the Comic-Con conference are also amused when I mention Boris’s backing for a trans-Pennine transport link. “Coming from Johnson,” guffaws Cam, “that’s an empty promise.”

Kev White couldn’t disagree more. “He’s a breath of fresh air,” says the 51-year-old Arriva steward. Jess Berry, 39, nods in agreement. “He’s not like the others. But he needs to listen.” About what? “Brexit. We want to get out now.”

It is fair to say that, like Leeds in its Victorian heyday, the new PM provokes extreme reactions. You either like him very much or not at all.

Back in Dickensian times, the self-appointed capital of God’s own country emerged as Yorkshire’s industrial powerhouse. On Saturday, in a speech pledging to fund a new high-speed rail route between Leeds and Manchester, Johnson became the third prime minister to peddle optimism about a northern powerhouse.

But most of the under-35s the Observer encounters are highly resistant to this latest charm offensive. “We won’t get fooled again,” one declares. Most of the over-35s, on the other hand, are not averse to being – as the Daily Mail puts it – “love-bombed”.

Post-industrial Leeds is still a divided city. To the outside world it often appears a little, like Boris, too much in love with itself. Such apparent self-satisfaction often masks a gnawing insecurity about its gritty roots; Dickens called it a “beastly place”.

In the 2016 EU referendum, Remain and Leave were virtually neck-and-neck, the former just winning with 50.3% of the vote. The biggest financial and legal centre outside London, Leeds is also a city of disadvantage with a ring around its vibrant city centre known as the doughnut of deprivation.

Earlier in the week, during the hottest July day on record, the sun illuminated the town hall’s corinthian columns and imperious stone lions, forever associated with its Victorian ambition. Cuthbert Brodrick’s opus, a chess player told me, had put the city on the map, announcing to the world that Leeds was having a moment. “Under Boris,” he adds, “we will have another moment.”

Johnson’s prophecy of a golden age also appeals to the man’s elderly friends, who are slowly moving the pieces around a giant chessboard outside the art gallery. Watching them, Tim says: “Boris is a good guy. Everyone picks on him but he is charismatic, inspirational and has a sense of humour. If he called an election, he’d win by a landslide.” John’s not too sure about this, but is certain he will “bring a bit of entertainment to the House of Commons. It’s been all doom and gloom. Our MPs have been a laughing stock. They are like spoilt little kids.”

Steve, a retired schoolteacher, accepts that Johnson is a gaffe-prone buffoon. “When he was foreign secretary he cocked up badly,” he points out. “But he’s still the best alternative.”

Such polarisation was even more pronounced in Pudsey, tucked away in west Leeds. The suburb, once known for its backwards-flying ducks, is now renowned for being one of the most marginal seats in the country. “A mirror-image of the national picture,” according to the Yorkshire Post. “If the new PM wins it at the next election, he is likely to stay in office. If not, Mr Johnson risks the ignominy of becoming one of, if not, the shortest-serving premier in history.”

Steven Lightfoot, who owns Pudsey Computers, is confident that his MP Stuart Andrew, who backed Brexit and Johnson’s leadership bid, will increase his 331-majority at the next election.

“Boris will shut down parliament and stick two fingers up at the EU. Britain is one of the strongest powers in Europe. Why do we need the other democratic powers?”

But what does an Old Etonian know about the left-behind north? “I was in the Royal Engineers,” says Steven. “In the army you have your officer types. You can’t expect them to come from comprehensive schools.”

Just up the road, Angi Haist puffs on a roll-up outside her vegan cafe. “People in Leeds either love him or hate him. The whole country is divided over him.” So, give him a chance? “No,” she exhales, with a wry smile. “He is an absolute tool.”