Last week, Boris Johnson made a last-minute change to his itinerary in the West Country after protesters from Extinction Rebellion and others had gathered outside a bakery he had planned to visit near Glastonbury. The visit, it was reported, had not been publicised, but word had nevertheless got out. The Prime Minister swerved off to the nice, placid cathedral city of Wells instead.
I have reported on elections in democracies – real and sham – around the world. And what leapt out from this little episode was not the change of schedule per se; such things happen. It was the detail that would-be protesters had managed to find out where he would be, even though the visit had not been publicised.
Not publicised? People – protesters, maybe even fans – left to winkle out, how they may, where the Prime Minister and leader of the country’s governing party is campaigning and when? What sort of a country is this, where the Prime Minister is criss-crossing the country, dashing from hospital to school to high street and the first most people – even the majority of those actually on the route – will know about it is from the baby-hugging, song-singing and rabbit-stroking they see on the evening television news?
Nor is this secrecy limited to the Prime Minister.
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