Otto English is the pen name used by Andrew Scott, a writer and playwright based in London.
In medieval times, life for the holidaying overlord was so much simpler. Our kings whiled away their leisure hours chasing game in the great forests of Europe and, when they tired of that, engaged in a spot of jousting or the occasional feast. Theirs was a carefree existence in an age when serfs didn’t question their betters, or steal surreptitious snaps on their smartphones of Henry VIII and his entourage hanging out on the beach.
How times have changed. Nowadays our political masters are never truly off-duty. No longer hunters, they are now the prey — in the most gruesome bloodsport of all: the politician’s holiday.
Over the Christmas period, British Prime Minister Boris Johnson and Australian Prime Minister Scott Morrison learned to their cost that if you’re a 21st-century leader pining for a break in an exotic locale, things can swiftly backfire.
Morrison’s vacation in particular was a masterclass in how not to go on holiday when your country is on fire. With Australia already reeling from the greatest ecological disaster in its history, Morrison chose to slink off to Hawaii citing “family commitments.” Matters were made considerably worse when the Australian PM, taking umbrage at being held to account, compared his break to the dilemma facing a plumber who is trying to decide whether to take a job or spend the weekend with his family. Unflattering comparisons to Nero were soon forthcoming.
For the most part, European leaders have responded to the public scrutiny by keeping holidays local and low key — but even that can backfire.
Johnson, fresh from electoral victory, likewise probably thought nothing of taking an exotic holiday with girlfriend Carrie Symonds. To fend off accusations of flamboyance, Downing Street made clear that he was paying for the flights himself. Someone even posted a candid picture of him and Carrie looking much like any other couple flying off at Christmas for a bit of winter sun. The problem for Johnson was that his final destination was a £20,000-per-week luxury villa replete with butler, housekeeper, private chef and beach on Mustique — perhaps the most exclusive island resort in the world.
Johnson’s reelection campaign had made much of him being a man of the people, and as he spent time courting votes from disaffected former Labour-supporting working-class voters in the North, he would often be seen sporting a yellow, high-vis jacket. The jarring disconnection between that image and his choice of holiday could not have been greater. Presumably, there is still much to be done before the U.K. leaves the EU on January 31 — could the PM really afford to take an extended Christmas vacation? His remote choice of location also invited criticism following the assassination of Iranian general Qassem Soleimani and the ensuing diplomatic crisis that appeared to catch the U.K.’s holidaying ministers off-guard.
Johnson is not the first British PM to take flashy holidays in the Caribbean — or to be criticized for it. When Tony Blair and family slapped on the sun cream at Cliff Richard’s luxury Barbados home in the wake of the invasion of Iraq in 2003, he was roundly lambasted. Since then, and particularly following the financial crash of 2008, the holiday choices of British political leaders have come under intense scrutiny.
Nor is this a peculiarly British or Australian obsession. In recent years, the French in particular have taken an intense interest in how their presidents holiday. Since Nicolas Sarkozy borrowed a luxury yacht off Malta in 2007, sticking him with the nickname “president bling-bling,” the occupants of the Elysée Palace have been expected to keep things unflashy. Neither subsequent president has ventured farther than the French Riviera.
Australian Prime Minister Scott Morrison is seen visiting a fire-damaged property on Kangaroo Island | Pool photo by David Mariuz via Getty Images
In December, as labor unions striking over planned pension reforms paralyzed much of France’s rail network, leaving hundreds stranded or unable to get home for Christmas, French ministers were given strict instructions not to appear to be leaving their posts unmanned or to be taking advantage of a holiday “truce” in negotiations to leave their troubles behind. Transport Minister Élisabeth Borne, who flew to Marrakech, was forced to clarify she would be gone only “a few days” and would be “in permanent contact” with her team despite the distance.
For the most part, European leaders have responded to the public scrutiny by keeping holidays local and low-key — but even that can backfire. German Chancellor Angela Merkel’s habit of taking the same hiking trip to the same place in South Tyrol, Italy, every year for two decades eventually led to such derision in Germany that in 2018 she decided not to go, sparking even more frenzied speculation as to what she was doing instead. Merkel was eventually spotted in her favorite schnitzel restaurant in Berlin celebrating a friend’s birthday.
It doesn’t have to be so complicated. As far back as 1902, Teddy Roosevelt, the media-savvy 26th U.S. president, realized that in the right hands, the politician’s holiday could be a neat extension of brand. During his annual break at Oyster Bay, Long Island, Roosevelt would make sure he was seen to be working in the mornings, before galloping off in the afternoons to burnish his action-man image.
Most subsequent American presidents have mimicked the Roosevelt model, and none has holidayed abroad while in office. This is partly practical: Guarding the world’s most powerful individual involves a vast and expensive security detail. There is also an expectation that the U.S. president is never more than a hop and a skip from Washington. (Barack Obama faced considerable blowback when he took his family on vacation to his own Hawaiian holiday home in 2013.)
While Obama was in office, Donald Trump made much of the then president’s holidays from the safety of his Twitter echo chamber. In his candidate biography in 2015, he even made a point of saying: “I would not be a President who took vacations. I would not be a President that takes time off.”
And while Trump has taken few formal holidays in office, he has blurred the lines between work and pleasure so much as to put Roosevelt’s working vacations in the shade. Conducting much of his business from his various properties and hotels, it is estimated that Trump spent 1 in 5 working days at one of his golf clubs in 2019.
Britain’s Prime Minister Boris Johnson | Pool photo by Frank Augstein/Getty Images
A small handful of leaders do manage to pull the trick off and turn their holiday breaks into PR gold. Russian President Vladimir Putin has used his sojourns in Siberia and elsewhere to shore-up his image as a rugged mountain man who likes nothing more than a bit of bareback riding and salmon fishing. Matteo Salvini, the populist leader of Italy’s far right, likewise scored a hit during the summer of 2019 by touring the beaches of the Adriatic sipping cocktails, spinning discs and posing for selfies with local holidaymakers. Nobody loves the beach in summer quite like the Italians, and by hanging out like everyone else, Salvini pulled off that curiously difficult trick of genuinely appearing to be a man of his people.
Salvini’s holiday, like Putin’s mountain trips, was a calculated stunt, and a very successful one at that. Both men understand the game. Boris Johnson and Morrison, on the other hand, seem to believe they are entitled to private holidays, away from the prying eyes of the press and media.
In truth, when you are a world leader in the 2020s, there’s no longer such a thing as free time or privacy. You are always under scrutiny, and you are always on. If they don’t like it, well, perhaps next year they could pull out the box sets and have a staycation instead.