The mirage of majesty

This week’s Royal visit to the United States tickled all the right places for a certain kind of conservative who wishes to believe that, despite all our problems, there’s still something special about plucky ol’ Blighty which all the world can’t help but admire. Fawning commentators praised Charles’ wit as he chucklingly referenced various historical incidents between our two countries, before giving a heartfelt defence of Anglo-American relations and presenting President Trump with a cleverly devised gift. As the international stage becomes more and more chaotic, and we find ourselves with less and less to offer potential partners, all that is needed to secure our position in the world is a nice smile and some kind words delivered in a charming accent by our glorious King — or so they would have us believe.

Of course, the visit was not entirely fruitless. Charles secured mutual abolition of trade restrictions on Scottish Whisky and Kentucky Bourbon — a long-pursued goal of British and American trade envoys. Nevertheless, as growth forecasts dwindle from little to virtually nothing (and still seem optimistic with no end in sight to the closure of the Persian Gulf), one can’t help but feel that this newly refurbished deckchair will do little to save the Titanic. Less than a week before Charles arrived in America, internal memos suggesting that the United States might reconsider its position on the Falkland Islands as punishment for lack of British support in Iran were leaked to the media. Those reports have been somewhat downplayed since, but the mood in Washington is still overwhelmingly negative towards Europe — as it has been now for some time.

A real achievement would have been securing commitments from the US which make a real difference to Britain’s economic and security concerns. Our most pressing interest is of course the war in Iran, which must be brought to a close as soon as possible. The King’s visit did nothing to persuade the Trump administration, safe in the knowledge that US domestic oil and gas supplies can keep their country running indefinitely (and can be subjected — if not without cost — to export restrictions, should prices rise too high) and seemingly indifferent to the economic plight of their European partners, of the immediate importance of this task. Equally, we have yet to see a final settlement emerge on North Atlantic security which will put the Greenland issue to bed and secure the trans-Atlantic alliance — at least until Europe’s remilitarisation (which is admittedly woefully insufficient as things stand) bears fruit.

Much as we might be happy at the prospect of marginally higher profits for Highland distilleries, the Royal visit has done essentially nothing to fundamentally alter Britain’s disastrous strategic position. In itself, that is not surprising — nor is it the fault of the King himself, who performed his duties as well as could be expected. A sprinkle of Monarchist revelry was never going to change the basic calculus of Anglo-American relations, and that is precisely the problem.

Whilst sentimental attachments cannot be completely dismissed, the reality of international relations is fundamentally transactional. The Trump administration’s crudeness has shown clearly what has always been an essential truth. America’s military subsidisation of Europe was a price willingly paid in return for European support of the American global system. As that system breaks apart, and as America — rightly or wrongly — comes to view it as disadvantageous, Britain is faced with an extremely difficult set of challenges. In this new world, we must find new bases for our alliances. Yet, as recent events has shown, Britain’s military capacity has atrophied almost completely. Our economy has been stagnant for two decades. We have vanishingly little to offer potential partners, and even less to offer in defence of our own interests.

This is not a situation which can be ignored. We are experiencing its consequences today. Decades of economic globalisation and poor policy at home have left us entirely dependent on Middle Eastern oil, Chinese manufacturing, Taiwanese semiconductors, and food from around the world. This system was built upon the assumption that global free trade would be protected, largely by the United States, free of cost to us. That assumption no longer holds. Vital interests that we cannot protect necessarily become vulnerabilities. They allow us to be held hostage by other actors, or at the very least to be subjected to their whim without the ability to protest. If we cannot protect our own trade routes, nor influence those powers which seek to disrupt them, we leave ourselves at their mercy.

Addressing these problems requires a certain seriousness. Developing the military capacity to secure our own interests will come at tremendous cost. Building new partnerships with countries that share our interests, such as those in Europe or even, where appropriate, the United States, will require us to offer something in return. Generally speaking, this will have to be in the form of desirable market access or synergistic economic partnerships, both of which require a diverse and dynamic economy — which we do not currently possess. Building such an economy will require deep and politically difficult reassessments of our current settlement. Equally, shrinking our dependencies and building domestic capacity where trade routes with far-flung countries cannot be satisfactorily secured will also come at great cost.

These are hard decisions, and they require a willingness to accept uncomfortable circumstances of some sort regardless of the path we choose to follow. A country can only make such decisions when it recognises that the status quo is unsustainable, and realises the risk of failing to act. Given this fact, indulging in delusions about our own position and the strength of our assets is deeply harmful. Perhaps the biggest impact of the King’s visit, and the meagre benefits it secured, has been to reassure many in this country that perhaps our relationship with our historic guarantor isn’t quite so damaged after all — and that maybe, just maybe, we can continue to coast on Johnny Foreigner’s supine admiration for all things British to be gifted a living by the world. But that admiration, such as it ever existed, is fading rapidly. The world is not nearly as impressed with us as we are with ourselves. If we want a place at the table in the future, we will have to earn it. As hard as the actual process of self-improvement can be, the hardest thing of all is to look in the mirror and recognise that things have to change. It is long past time we did so.