ALEXANDER Boris de Pfeffel Johnson’s autobiography Unleashed invites comparisons between the disgraced former prime minister and George IV, also famously a notorious fantasist.

Unleashed’s poorly written catalogue of self-serving falsehoods, deluded wish fulfilment, indiscretion, exaggeration and sheer bunkum confirm (if needed) our worst fears regarding his suitability for high office. Or, in fact, any office.

As Rory Stewart put it: “Johnson is … the most accomplished liar in public life — perhaps the best liar ever to serve as prime minister. He is equally adept at the ironic jest, the fib and the grand lie; the weasel word and the half-truth; the hyperbolic lie, the obvious lie, and the bullshit lie — which may inadvertently be true. I think he’s one of the most terrible human beings imaginable. He’s a terrible human being as well as a terrible prime minister.”

The dissolute Hanoverian King George IV (1762-1830) bore more similarities than just his bloated physical resemblance to Britain’s last prime minister but three.

The two voluptuaries shared similar traits in narcissism, mythmaking, sociopathy, and a penchant for boozing, drug experimentation (“youthful” dabbling has been admitted by Johnson) and sexual incontinence.

In terms of self-mythologising, the Prince Regent claimed in his later years to have been present in disguise as a German general at the Battle of Waterloo; Johnson has made innumerable statements best interpreted as existing only in the realm of pure fantasy.

Cases in point his threats to “die in a ditch” if Brexit was delayed (he didn’t), “lie in front of bulldozers to prevent the building of Heathrow’s third runway” (he scarpered to Afghanistan to avoid a vote on the issue) and “there will be no border down the Irish Sea — over my dead body” (there is such a demarcation; Johnson is alive and kicking).

The pair also boasted what in less enlightened times would be called “an eye for the ladies,” but unlike Johnson (now on spouse #3), George IV was officially married only once (unhappily, to his cousin Princess Caroline of Brunswick), although both ran a string of mistresses, some from the upper reaches of society, others from the demimonde. Both monarch and the former PM have acknowledged/unacknowledged illegitimate offspring from their extramarital relationships.

Such is Johnson’s apparent facility with the fairer sex that he is said to have claimed to a lucky female companion: “I haven’t had to have a wank for 20 years.” And they said romance was dead.

Of course, with the guidance of Beau Brummell, George IV was a dedicated dandy — “the First Gentleman of Europe,” something you could never accuse Johnson of being.

A key difference between the two is George IV’s status as, in the words of Wellington, “a magnificent patron of the arts” with a genuine love of literature, music, sculpture and architecture.

One could point to Brighton’s kitsch Indian/Chinese mash-up, the Royal Pavilion, as a severe lapse in taste, but in comparison to interior designer Lulu Lytle’s migraine-inducing work for the Johnsons, it really appears relatively restrained.

In terms of a cultural hinterland, Johnson incessantly quotes Latin and is supposedly writing a deadline-missing Shakespeare biography, but his touchstones look to the prosaic, bearing in mind his frequent mentions of The Muppets, Peppa Pig and professed enjoyment of movies such as Dodgeball, The Pink Panther and The Terminator.

While George IV was a fan of all things “traditionally” Scottish and successfully toured the country in 1822, ex-PM Johnson is still cordially despised “north of the border.”

This feeling is heartily reciprocated by Johnson, who has said of the Scots that they “will discover that personal care for the elderly is too expensive. And they will come, cap in hand to ‘Uncle Sugar’ in London. And when they do, I propose that we tell them to hop it.”

Predating Johnson’s Bullingdon Club by four decades (1739 v 1780), George IV belonged (as an honorary member) to the Beggar’s Benison, devoted to masturbatory fantasies and “the convivial celebration of male sexuality.” He kindly donated them a snuffbox containing pubic hair from one of his mistresses.

The ousted PM has yet to be publicly associated with this level of debauchery, although Johnson famously attended an “outrageous” dinner party in Italy hosted by KBG scion Evgeny Lebedev.

Even when the Prince Regent finally became king and Johnson partially achieved his “world king” ambition by becoming prime minister, neither did a Henry V and gave up their long-held habits of self-indulgence and laziness; responsibility carried noticeably lightly on their mutual shoulders.

George IV’s 10-year reign was characterised by financial extravagance, scandal and a difficult relationship with his government. Ministers found the king irresponsible, selfish, lazy, unreliable, and under the thumb of various favourites. “Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme chose.”

Charles Greville, the clerk to the privy council, confided to his diary his thoughts on the king: “A more contemptible, cowardly, selfish, unfeeling dog does not exist … There have been good and wise kings but not many of them … and this I believe to be one of the worst.”

Just before his elevation to prime minister, Johnson’s former employer at the Telegraph, Max Hastings, prophetically wrote in 2019: “His graver vice is cowardice, reflected in a willingness to tell any audience, whatever he thinks most likely to please, heedless of the inevitability of its contradiction an hour later.

“Like many showy personalities, he is of weak character. He has long been considered a bully, prone to making cheap threats. Almost the only people who think Johnson a nice guy are those who do not know him. As it is, the Johnson premiership could survive for three or four years, shambling from one embarrassment and debacle to another, of which Brexit may prove the least.”

Turning to the cultural legacy of George IV and the likely one of Boris Johnson. George IV was the subject of the nursery rhyme Georgie Porgie, referring to his womanising and habit of deserting his partners once his sexual thirst was slaked.

Georgie Porgie,
Pudding and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry;
When the boys came out to play,
Georgie Porgie ran away.

In terms of popular song, the ousted PM has had two chart hits dedicated to him by the beat combo The K*nts; “Boris Johnson Is a F*cking C*nt,” and the follow-up, “Boris Johnson Is Still a F*cking C*nt.”

With the Royal Pavilion, Buckingham Palace, Marble Arch, and other works by his architect John Nash, there are plenty of physical reminders of George IV, including Sir Francis Leggatt Chantrey’s flattering equestrian statue in Trafalgar Square. Although it gave its name to the station, the hideous King’s Cross statue dedicated to the monarch was pulled down after just seven years in 1842.

Johnson’s grand projects, the London Garden Bridge and the so-called bridge to Northern Ireland, were never built, the “Boris island” airport in the Thames was rejected, and the £250 million “national flagship,” the royal yacht Britannia, has been kicked into the long grass.

High-Speed Rail 2 grinds ever on in a truncated form, and the Emirates airline cable car (£60m cost) continues to serve an underwhelming 2,000 passengers each day; at its lowest point, there were only four regular customers a week.

But on the plus side, the £2.6m Downing Street press briefing room proved useful as a makeshift movie theatre for Johnson and chums.