Boris’ “greedy” COVID legacy hangs in the balance

At a closed online meeting of Tory ministers in March, the Prime Minister is said to have remarked “the reason we have the vaccine success is because of capitalism, because of greed my friends.” Here, Usama Rahman explores the meaning of this quote in the context of the larger legacy that Boris Johnson seeks to leave behind, and questions how we as a society can build our own COVID legacy.


The reason we have the vaccine success is because of capitalism, because of greed my friends.
— Boris Johnson

Ask anyone about Churchill’s statue in parliament and they will almost inevitably refer to Ivor Roberts-Jones’ 12-foot construction in Parliament Square – at a spot apparently selected by Churchill himself – depicting the former prime minister wearing a military coat, gently stooped, cane in hand, overlooking Big Ben. It is an image of triumph, victory, and power. A supposed embodiment of a foolhardy and brutish resolve in the face of unimaginable adversity.

Yet for all its iconography – representing a bygone era’s conception of British power – the statue itself has seen its fair share of vandalising drama in recent years, from being doused in paint to being urinated on. These events have reflected a wider shift amongst society; instead of being unquestionably revered, Churchill’s complete corpus has been re-examined in finer detail and, as the institutional memory of the end of the War has faded, it has become apparent that considering the late Prime Minister singularly, as a “hero”, is nigh impossible.

Photo credit: Arthur Osipyan via UnsplashIvor Roberts-Jones statue of Churchill in Parliament Square.

Photo credit: Arthur Osipyan via Unsplash

Ivor Roberts-Jones statue of Churchill in Parliament Square.

There is, however, another statue of Churchill within Parliament, one sculpted in 1970 by Oscar Nemon, standing in the Members’ Lobby just outside the main chamber of the House of Commons. It shows Churchill mid-stride walking through rubble during the war in London and, despite being protected behind several layers of high-detail security, it too has been vandalised. It is said that the swinging foot of the statue is eroded due to the many Conservative Members of Parliament who rub it for “good luck” prior to entering the House; Churchill having been Liberal early in his career has conveniently been adopted in death as mascot-in-chief by the Tory party.

The juxtaposition of these two forms of destruction a few hundred feet apart is telling – the same protagonist is held to differing legacies by different groups of people, yet the ostensible outcome is the same. On the one hand, we have the man who belligerently led Britain through its most severe test against a formidable enemy and, on the other hand, an insouciant character whose wanton disregard in South Asia led to the death of millions and caused deep wounds that to this day seem unhealable – one of many failings, his critics would argue.

Legacy building is an odd concept. How one comes to have a legacy is less well understood, and there is no one copy of the truth. Legacy, coming from the Latin, legatus – meaning “delegated person” – is built incrementally, with victories often embellished and failures downplayed, until the person at hand is gifted by others a version of what occurred. Of course, legacies are never final or even singular, and re-examinations of what was meant, in light of the local contemporaneous societal values of the day, shape the stories further.

Few are fortunate to get a head start on building their legacies whilst in the midst of action; fewer still are gifted with an opportunity to rise up and meet an occasion of such gravity that their legacies are firmly cemented for the decades ahead. We, however, are living through one of those moments now.

COVID-19 is a once-in-a-century pandemic, a war against a silent killer, a severe test of people, government, society, structures and values, of physical infrastructure and normative constructs. It offers a rare moment for those in a position of power to firmly jump the start gun and leave a first version of their story behind. 

The delegated person these days is Boris Johnson – a Prime Minister in waiting for so many years, he has had the “good fortune” to be blessed by a Churchillian crisis upon which to build his legacy, though whether he has taken that remains to be seen. Johnson has long been an admirer of Churchill, having written a somewhat tepid biographical account in which he seemingly conflated his own political journey with that of the late prime minister, though the two men are inherently different.

Johnson is very much a modern-day politician: more image, less ideology than Churchill and often unable to rise to the occasion in his orations which are filled with verbiage and wordless intonations. He cares, it seems, about how things are seen, and less what they mean, with half an eye on how future biographers will consider him and indeed how those in his adopted party will come to revere him.

There will certainly be two legacies for Johnson from the COVID-19 pandemic, just like Churchill from the War. One will be the legacy of shaking hands with hospital patients whilst the virus was already on these shores silently getting ready to strike, of delays in implementing a lockdown in early 2020 despite data strongly showing it would save lives, of failing to grasp the necessity of adequate testing and tracing of cases, of vacillating between lockdown 2.0 and Christmas re-openings, of delays in getting PPE to frontline workers, of failing to support care homes in their time of need, of full hospitals and broken healthcare workers, and of indecision. This legacy will be informed by the cold truth that only data can reveal: 127,000 deaths and counting – a higher rate per head than most of our European neighbours. Critics will go much further than this, whilst supporters will seek to undermine the facts. This battle will be fought long after COVID-19 has receded as a threat; books, shows and films will be written, and academicians will debate the minutiae for decades to come.  

Photo credit: Twitter account @10DowningStreetPM Johnson in the new 10 Downing Street Press Briefing Room.

Photo credit: Twitter account @10DowningStreet

PM Johnson in the new 10 Downing Street Press Briefing Room.

There is, however, another legacy forming, one that Johnson is altogether more willing to promote: that of the success of the vaccination roll-out. The UK has no doubt stolen a march on our counterparts in Europe and much of the rest of the world in this regard. We managed to secure more doses of vaccine up-front, and the rollout played to the great strength of the NHS, an almost militaristic monolith in UK public life with resources and clinics at its disposal across the length and breadth of this country. Whilst the finer details of why the UK was able to secure more doses early on is yet to be revealed publicly, the developing narrative is that the government placed larger orders, much earlier than other countries. It had planned for vaccinations even before the first case had occurred in the UK. It was, as Johnson says, willing to use “greed” to secure doses before the rest of the world. And it was not Gekko and Wall Street that informed this decision apparently, in so much as the film Contagion, which it seems was essential preparatory work for Government ministers. Matt Hancock was so shocked by the end of the film – during which countries fought over limited doses of vaccine – that he successfully argued for ordering three times the planned shipment for the Astra-Zeneca vaccine, and sought to support vaccine candidates that had clear supply routes to the UK such as the Pfizer-BioNTech jab over the Moderna one.

This is the legacy that Johnson is seeking to condone, one that he hopes Tory members will rub his foot for, in years to come. Things, however, are never so simple. That greed, day-by-day, is looking misplaced, with the UK having secured far more doses of vaccine per head than other countries. There are serious concerns regarding the morality of such decisions, especially when considering that COVID-19 has not been suffered in isolation by wealthy countries.

Just like Churchill and Bengal Famine, will the Johnson Factor – if written – consider the UK’s response in helping alleviate the burden of COVID-19 around the world? What did the delegated person do to help those less fortunate than us? These are decisions which will inform the longer-term legacy that Johnson is seeking to build. Did we push our leaders to donate more doses to other countries and did we hold them to account for not doing so? How did the UK seek to use greed for good? And more importantly, when considering future legacies, how did we use that greed to help mitigate the mounting burden of disease that is now facing the NHS due to COVID?

Of course, quotes like this can never be taken without the context in which they were made. Johnson referred to “greed” when talking about the vaccination rollout in a closed session meeting of Tory ministers, a statement which he swiftly withdrew. But it seems that there was probably more to the quip than initially met the eye. Of course, there has been another epic tumult that the PM has dealt with, that of Brexit. Was this a Churchillian two-fingered salute to our former lovers on mainland Europe, a final adieu after an acrimonious divorce, packaged and delivered soundbite-size to an appreciative blue crowd; or a moment of genuine carelessness?

Regardless of politics, viewpoints and personal convictions, COVID-19 has taken a terrible toll on us as a society. With the roll out of the vaccine, we can start considering not the beginning of the end but maybe the end of the beginning. Our country will likely see out further devastating waves, given a successful vaccine programme, although COVID-19 will remain far into the future as less-wealthy nations seek to get on top of the burden from this terrible disease. It will be our duty to use our “greed” for good, and to lead the way in helping those societies return to normal.

Not only will it be imperative on practical grounds, but from a moral perspective as well. The Declaration of Geneva, used by many medical schools as a modern-day version of the Hippocratic Oath, seeks to embody this sentiment with the following two clauses; I solemnly pledge to dedicate my life to the service of humanity, and I will share my medical knowledge for the benefit of the patient and the advancement of healthcare. If we can hold true not only from a medical paradigm to these principles, but from a governmental perspective, we can deliver greater returns to humanity and society as a whole. We can build and cement a societal legacy that will be spoken of into the future.

The UK has purchased more than 5 vaccines per head. Source: Duke Global Health Innovation Centre. Data correct as of May 14th.

The UK has purchased more than 5 vaccines per head. Source: Duke Global Health Innovation Centre. Data correct as of May 14th.

On present reading, it is less likely that Boris will be granted a statue in the lobbies of Parliament, although there will be another memorial that will be built.

When the COVID-19 monument is completed, how will people come to see that sculpture far into the future when the institutional memory of this year fades, and to what legacy will it refer? Will we, as a nation, have offered as good as we have to the global community, and how will future generations come to see what we do now in light of their circumstances then?

As the nation de-compresses and gradually awakens from a months-long slumber, where pain, misery, death and destruction have visited so many households up and down this land at a rate unlike anything we have seen since the Second World War, there will be cause for optimism, and hope. But there will also be the need to look back, reflect and learn, if not only for the need to respect the memory of those who have been taken far before their time. There will be countless stories to be shared, from the students who have suffered greatly, or small business owners who have lost their livelihoods, to my fellow healthcare workers who have struggled through in a turbulent year.

As we embark on new beginnings, we hope to bring you these stories, highlighting voices from across the public health and healthcare worlds; seeking to rationalise and humanise policy decisions, bringing nuanced debate, comment and opinion to a wider audience and supporting those less well heard to make their voices count. 

Usama Rahman

Usama is a trauma & orthopaedic surgical doctor working in the NHS. His developing academic interests lie in humanitarian health, trauma health systems and using routine health data to improve outcomes. He is due to join the NIHR’s Academic Clinical Fellow Programme in October 2023. Whilst at LSHTM studying for a Master’s, he Co-Founded the Keppel Health Review and currently serves as one of the Editors-in-Chief.

Instagram/Twitter: @usamarahman

Email: usama@keppelhealthreview.com

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