(from the article)
Johnson is 55 and Symonds is 31. He is broader and taller than she is. Second, Johnson is a white, Old Etonian man who hails from a semi-aristocratic family with an impressive network of connections. Third, he is currently the front-runner to be our country’s next Prime Minister.
I cannot speak for Symonds but I know that if I were in her situation and I found myself in a fractious argument with that particular man, I would feel threatened. Johnson’s power is founded on privilege – of birth, of age, of education, of race and of gender. His actions cannot for one minute be separated from inequitable systems that underpin them.
And if you think I’m being melodramatic, consider this: when the newspaper that ran the story first contacted the Metropolitan Police to corroborate the facts, the reporter was told no such incident had taken place.
This is a man who has repeatedly been callous with other people’s feelings, possessions and livelihoods.
It’s the ethos of the Bullingdon Club he was once a member of at Oxford – the idea that you can go out, get drunk and smash stuff up because you have enough money to pay for the damage.
I asked Johnson about his chequered relationship with the truth. He responded by quoting a line of dialogue from Scarface, the 1983 film about a drug baron (played by Al Pacino) who viciously murders anyone who stands in his way. ‘I always tell the truth even when I lie,’ Johnson said.
It was a surprising admission. This, I think, is the key to understanding the Johnson psychology: he believes he knows what’s best, for himself and for the country.
It doesn’t matter what he has to smash up to get there.