Very few attain it: short of the prime minister, only the infamous rascals and rogues of Parliament achieve fame, or notoriety. And even then, it is more often the name rather than the face which penetrates the national consciousness by a process of media inculcation.Boris Johnson is fast-becoming a national treasure. Some may consider him an idiot, a buffoon, a caricature. But they thought the same of Diana, Princess of Wales.
Yet still they flock from the four corners of the world to kiss her shrine.
The story in yesterday’s Daily Mail is so typically Boris. Apparently, he chased a ‘souped-up Astra’ along the streets of London on his bike after the ‘louts’ had thrown litter out of their window.
What other mayor would do that?
What other national politician would?
What local councillor would?
They only seem to care when there’s a camera around.
But Boris’ instinct is to decry the injustice, to confront the ‘lout’, to reprimand the hooligan and to chastise the recidivist.
And he does so personally: he can’t be bothered with politicians, the police, or interminable bureaucracy:
'Soon the bike had beaten the car, as it always does,' he wrote. As they waited at the next set of lights, I pounded on the window. "Open up!" I cried.
'There were three kids inside, and I could see the culprit goggling up at me with appalled recognition. They lurched off again in the hope of escape, but of course I had them at the next lights.'
The ensuing conversation must have made entertaining listening it indeed unfolded as Mr Johnson - distinctive even with his trademark mop of blonde hair hidden under a cycle helmet - described. It began with the irate mayor demanding the car's occupants open up, then him telling his assailant 'you aren't going to get away with it, I am the mayor!'.
Rolling down a window, the driver replied: 'I know you is the mayor, and it was a accident'.
The conversation then continued on the street, after the culprit offered to get out of the car.
Mr Johnson's asked 'why did you throw something at my head?'
The response, was it seems: 'Please, Mr Boris sir, this wasn't meant to happen.
'We know you is the mayor, man.
'We gotta lot of respect for the things you are doing.'
Not normally one to be lost for words, at this point Mr Johnson appears to have lost his track.
After discovering two of the car's occupants were Derron and Erron, he failed to elicit the name of the third.
He erupted with rage when one of the men told him 'it was only a piece of litter', but only to warn them not to throw litter at people's heads.
All appears to have ended amicably, with the litter louts promising 'we won't do it again' and asking 'can we have a photo, Mr Boris?'
Whether he obliged, the mayor did not say.
What he did say, in his column, was: 'Only a piece of litter, he says, when we all know that the number one environmental concern of the British public - far ahead of global warming - is the tidiness of their neighbourhoods and the plague of litter.
'I don't know what the Astra passenger threw at my head, but whatever it was, it wasn't just a piece of litter. It was a national disgrace.'
It was only four months ago that Mr Johnson saved a woman who was being attacked by a group of hoodies. One of the gang was brandishing an iron bar, but that didn't stop Boris.
In Boris, the Conservative Party has a high-profile, intelligent and personable politician who is a true Conservative of considerable pedigree.
What he speaks is true and what he writes is common sense. And he has a rare gift for a politician – he is lovable. No matter what his faults and failings – and these have been broadcast far and wide - there is something profoundly warming about his personality. In an era where the medium is the message, Mr Johnson speaks Tory volumes.
This is just vintage stuff:
'I don't know what the Astra passenger threw at my head, but whatever it was, it wasn't just a piece of litter. It was a national disgrace.'
And everyone has heard of Boris – even the litter lout in the souped-up Astra. Will they have heard of George Osborne? Or Alastair Darling? No, not at all. They are obscure, undistinguished and indistinguishable from the bland uniformity that politics has become. The characters are being cleansed, individualism eradicated. But, like Diana, Boris has the aura of first-name familiarity about him; not such a one that may breed contempt, but one that endears people to him; one that makes people feel that they somehow know him. There is something cultic about him; to use the vernacular, he has mojo, he creates his own mystery which inevitably yields a loyal following and God knows the Conservative Party desperately needs politicians with whom the electorate wants to engage; politicians who can lead and create disciples.
In an age of cynicism for the political process and disdain for politicians, parties ought to be looking out for those who are instinctively above manipulation, evasion, cunning and deceit, and those who might possess individualism, uniqueness, beliefs of their own, and a personality.
Boris is the people’s politician.
And his being Mayor of London is like trying to put infinite space into a nutshell.
He is destined for much greater things.
