What is Partygate? The word is now firmly embedded in the English psyche, but I suspect that people who live outside the UK may be less intimately familiar with the Partygate saga.
It subsequently emerged that the British prime minister Boris Johnson appeared to have exempted himself, his staff and his nearest and dearest from these restrictions. Thus, while the law-abiding citizens of the UK were sitting at home, often celebrating solitary Christmases or fretting indoors while loved ones died unvisited in their hospital beds, a good deal of partying was going on at the prime minister's official residence at 10 Downing Street, with the prime minister very much in evidence.
News of the illicit partying started at level of mere rumours. These rumours generated in turn a sequence of suspicions, denials and accusations that ended with a number of criminal convictions.
Revelations that Boris Johnson was partying while others suffered were scarcely likely to pass unremarked, and even many of his friends and supporters have been highly critical of his perceived hypocrisy in flouting rules that he earnestly urged others to respect.
If I may parody the response of the Prime Minister's Office to the allegations of partying, they seem to have travelled along the following lines:
- There were no parties.
- Even if there were parties, the Prime Minister did not know of them.
- If he knew of them, he did not attend them.
- If he did attend them, he did so involuntarily and did not know that they were parties.
- If he did attend them, he was there in his official capacity and not as an ordinary human.
- And anyway, he didn't drink a lot and wasn't really there to enjoy himself.
This line of defence is a traditionally British approach, one which will be familiar to viewers of the Yes, Minister and Yes, Prime Minister television series.
What has any of this to do with Pirkei Avot?
In the fifth perek (Avot 5:9) we learn that there are seven features that distinguish the wise man from the golem -- an immature clod. The last of those seven is the ability to admit the truth.
If, rather than prevaricating and issuing vague, uninformative statements, the prime minister had been brave enough to follow this advice from the outset, he could have responded to the initial rumours like this:
"Yes, I did it. I went partying when the rest of the country was in lockdown. What I did was wrong and I knew it at the time. I hold up my hands and say, yes, I'm guilty. I am thoroughly ashamed of what I've done and apologise from the bottom of my heart and in all sincerity for this lapse of judgement on my part.
Having said that, I can only say in my defence that we are all human, and everyone makes mistakes from time to time. I responded to a human impulse that I found impossible to resist. I seek your understanding and your forgiveness, In doing so, I ask you to reflect in your hearts and ask yourselves, in all honesty, whether -- if you were prime minister and were struggling under the strain of running a country during an unprecedented pandemic -- you would not have done the same thing".
By admitting the truth, confessing his wrongdoing at the earliest opportunity and earnestly seeking the forgiveness of the nation, Boris Johnson could in a single stroke have ended the did-he-didn't-he speculation that occupied so many columns of news for so long and put the ball in the court of his accusers and detractors by forcing them to decide how to respond, depending on their moral stance and their political allegiance.
Illustration: Boris Johnson having a drink with Chancellor of the Exchequer Rishi Sunak
