Category Archives: Media

My referendum day memories from inside the campaign

I am today pondering two very powerful words. They are ‘what’ and ‘if’. What if, on this day one year ago, the British electorate had voted for their country to remain within the European Union? What if we had been on the losing end of a gruelling and hard-fought referendum campaign? What if the tides that had hardened British public opinion against EU membership been whisked away, only to be replaced by many more years of ever closer political union?

For somebody like me, it is a frightening thought. As I type I can recall the restlessness and agitation that characterised June 23rd 2016. I am reminded of the uncomfortable train journey I took to work (at Vote Leave HQ), at 5am a year ago, in which I sat slumped in the carriage, nerve-stricken and tired, trying simultaneously to envisage victory and suppress any useless over-confidence.

It was an overcast morning, I seem to recall, which grew cloudier and very windy as the day progressed, and was marred by incessant rail disruption, which started (luckily) after I got to work. Any London commuters on that day will remember the disaster of trying to get home. A quick Google reminded me that flooding and storms were the cause. One memory I have of June 23rd, that has remained etched into my mind, is of the packed concourse at Waterloo station, which at the time pleased me as I thought it possible that many Remain-supporting Londoners would not be able to get home in time to vote.

As I arrived at work on polling day, the office was typically quiet. Part of my job was to monitor all Vote Leave and referendum press coverage; hence the early starts and long shifts. This was the case every morning until about 7, when Press and Research would arrive. But on June 23rd, things were a little different. The morning beforehand, most of the team had taken the coach down to Dover, where a final campaign push had been planned.

I was asked to stay in the office on the final day and so did not get to go, but that I did not mind. Much of the day, until colleagues returned around 10pm, remained eerily quiet. It provided me with quite a lot of time to think about the campaign; to mull over my personal contribution, fret about the result and keep a beady eye on voter activity through social media channels.

I spent a good part of the morning examining the major newspapers, and was particularly happy with the Sun’s beautiful splash, which I’ll never forget for as long as I live. It read: ‘Independence Day’, with an image of sunrise over the United Kingdom, with the stars on the European Union flag retreating back towards the continent. One of the great reliefs of the campaign was the support we aroused amongst the country’s most-read newspapers. They may not carry the political weight that they used to, but they certainly help to influence public opinion.

As the day wore on, in surprisingly uneventful fashion, my emotions started to get the better of me a little bit. I suppose I was in part frustrated at the long waiting game ahead and in part angered by statuses written by friends on Facebook, with whom I should not have bothered to engage in argument. That day, I amassed three fallings out, which disappointed me as I am not usually the type to let political beliefs jeopardise personal relationships.

I spoke about this on BBC London News about two weeks after the referendum. The scale of the issue, I think, provided exactly the sort of fertile soil for arguments and family splits. In the video package presented by the BBC, my section was contrasted with a focus on three ethnic minority voters who had experienced racism post-result (which of course had everything to do with voting to Leave and nothing whatsoever to do with pre-existing personal bigotry). It was a characteristically Remain-heavy segment, but I was not so bothered.

I spent much of June 23rd clearing out my desk, tidying up my work and making final preparations for my last work duties, which made me a little emotional. I hated 12 hour shifts, but the immense privilege of being a part of it all is something I will always treasure. One of the many valuable things I learned at the job was the importance of teamwork and making everybody aware that we are all in something together, working towards the same goal.

Some colleagues also stayed in Westminster that day and did not follow the team down to Dover. I believe that Matthew Elliott and Gisela Stewart had journeyed to Manchester, though for reasons I was unaware of. The feeling amongst those who were in the office was quiet enthusiasm. We had been monitoring polling trends carefully and had produced rigorous data that gave us a reasonable impression of how different sorts of people and different constituencies would vote.

I chatted with colleagues and took part in some ‘thanks for everything’ campaign photos and videos, which were released a couple of weeks later. I spent much of the day reflecting on what it was I had been involved in, especially given I was just 20 years old and our youngest employee. I thanked our politicians who dropped by, like Douglas Carswell and Michael Gove, who were both very pleasant to me when we spoke and always gave up their time to thank those less senior in the campaign for their efforts.

As the evening drew in, the wind picked up, the clouds darkened and my nerves rattled with renewed vigour. My plan, initially, was to get the train home at 6pm and come back to headquarters at around midnight, either by train or the night bus. Rail disruption made this impossible, so I had dinner at a local pizza restaurant with a colleague and took a two-hour nap on the floor underneath my desk, taking advantage of the periodic silence.

By the time I had woken up, (which must have been around 9pm) other campaign figures had returned from their Dover escapades and were filing back into the office. I chose to make my way home, as something resembling normal train service had resumed, making sure to get a few winks as I knew that the early hours of the morning would be stressful and restless.

The night bus brought me back to Westminster at just gone 11pm, where I grabbed some food and headed straight for the office. I was happy to see it full and lively. Everybody associated with us was there, minus Gisela and Matthew Elliott, who were in Manchester, and Suzanne Evans, who arrived a little later on. I took my usual seat, next to Penny Mordaunt, whose phone charger I asked to borrow as I had killed my battery on the way keeping my eyes fixed on BBC News and the ‘Britain Elects’ Twitter feed (which has proved a life saver on the night of major political events).

Everybody sat facing the three large televisions as results continued to leak through. Then, something extraordinary happened: Sunderland declared. Before arriving at the office, the Newcastle result had come through, and we had lost there, but by a shockingly small margin, which had given me real hope. Sunderland, though, had opted to leave the European Union. Enormous cheers thundered around the seventh floor of Westminster Tower, perhaps slightly prematurely.

This particular result had suggested two things: that our polling was accurate and that the rural Labour vote had turned out for Leave. At around half past 12 in the morning, the champagne glasses were out. We were very confident. I don’t usually drink, or particularly like, champagne, but Tom Harwood (a friend and leader of the Leave student component) was already on it and sitting the other side of me so I thought: ‘fuck it, why not?’

The good news kept coming. BBC, Sky and ITV pundits, one by one, began to call the referendum in our favour. Every time a major seat (such as, for instance, Cardiff) announced its result we’d sit in collective silence and anticipation. It was almost like we were watching a Cup Final penalty shootout. Though of course this was much, much bigger.

Then, at around 2pm, every major media organisation had officially called a Leave victory. I don’t recall ever feeling such impassioned and joyful relief in my entire life. We knew at this point that it was only a waiting game. Our messages had hit the country and our voters had turned out in droves. The office environment became more relaxed and those present began to discuss anecdotes and memories of the campaign. Things could still go wrong, but nothing could wipe the smiles off of our faces. We were within touching distance.

I began to guess what the confirmed result would be. My friend and Vote Leave Research Director Oliver Lewis had told me some weeks before that he suspected 52-48 in our favour, though his then-fiancé later informed me that at home he was not quite so confident. We discussed morale and the result a lot, and I took his thoughts seriously because he’s an extremely smart guy. One thing I knew was that it would not be a demolition job; the scale of the issue was far too big for an annhiliation either way.

As I think back now, I realise how quickly the time went that morning. 2pm, 3pm and 4pm all now seem like a blur. They seemed to congeal together in a haze of shock and glee. A part of me wishes I could go back and re-live those early hours. They were undoubtedly the most jubilant in my lifetime. I had personally devoted three months of twelve-hour shifts, amassing four days off, and many hundreds of miles travelling around the country beforehand in order to participate in localised activism.

But pass those hours did, and at 4pm, the result of the referendum was announced. I managed at this point to do something I had never done before: I cried genuine tears of joy. My head sank into my hands and I sobbed uncontrollably. I had, at one point, three female colleagues hovering around me, offering me hugs and kind words of congratulations. It certainly wasn’t my most masculine moment. But it was my happiest.

I weaved in and around the office, thanking every colleague I could hug, many of them multiple times. I regret the pictures of me from that day hugely; I had not washed or slept for almost two days and my hair was greasier than a large Doner, not that I had an ounce of care. Darren Grimes, who I had come to know reasonably well during the campaign, returned to the office from a television appearance he had made and joined the celebrations. Shockingly, he seemed to be able to hold it together better than I had.

Then Suzanne Evans made an appearance, which pleased me greatly as I had grown to like her as a person and thought of her as a great tower of strength and reliability throughout the referendum (I wish her well in her battle with cancer). We spoke about a number of things for a good twenty minutes and she offered me a little advice ahead of a potential career in politics. ‘Do something else before you hold office’, she told me. ‘You’ll be more respected that way’. I suspect she is correct.

Minutes later, emotions bubbled to the surface once more as a couple of very heartfelt speeches were made, first by Dan Hannan (who unfollowed me on Twitter the next day), and then, more importantly, by Dominic Cummings, who had directed the campaign beautifully. I have a good video of the post-result speech that Dom made, but have sought to keep it private as I believe he would prefer that. Indeed, many of these memories are extremely powerful and private.

But the morning wasn’t crowned off until I left the office, starving and exhausted, at around 6am. I had planned to stick around until McDonalds had begun serving breakfast, as there is no better way to spend a morning than with a double sausage and egg Mcmuffin in your mouth. I left McDonalds with two (‘you deserve it, I told myself’) and walked back to Albert Embankment, taking a seat on one of the benches next to the Thames.

I watched as the sun rose gloriously, and appropriately, over the Palace of Westminster. All was well.

 

 

 

 

 


Confession: I think the EU referendum was a mistake

I now think that holding a referendum on Britain’s continued membership of the European Union was a mistake. I have, I fear, reached this conclusion far too slowly.

I suspect it was the glamour of it all; the honour of working at the heart of a history-making political campaign that clouded my judgement.

I was in the midst of it all a 20-year old that had been given a fantastic first job I was arguably too immature for. That is not to say that it wasn’t anything other than a modest role, but to me it meant the world.

This, combined with occasional television appearances after the result, got to my head a little too much. I should have realised sooner that simply taking part in the referendum would not be enough.

It is a matter of head versus heart. The heart looks back with fondness at the privilege of campaigning and the many friends and contacts made.

But the head is nagging me about our constitutional difficulties, ambiguous Brexit options and unstable, incompetent leadership during such a sensitive period.

I always try my utmost to allow my head to win these battles. And so in this case I must concede that referendums are not the way to exercise ground-breaking political reform.

It has been quietly obvious for a while now that the real winner of the referendum was in fact David Cameron, who was able to use the result to slip out of government in time and avoid the mess we are now in.

He and his advisors probably saw all of this coming. I predicted as the results were coming through on June 23rd that he would step down as Prime Minister, but, rather naively, did not foresee the obstacles that acting on the result has since faced.

The main problem with last year’s plebiscite was that it did not provide clarity for those like Richard North who supported both Brexit and membership of the single market.

I wish I had taken notice of researchers like him (and indeed his blog eureferendum.com) much earlier than I did. He and his son Pete, bizarrely inept at social interaction, have yielded answers to complex questions for longer than our media has been able to keep up.

Referenda are binary, usually offered to appease the electorate and are and deliberately oversimplified. The options given lack nuance, ensuring they provide exactly the fertile soil for disruption and chaos. This is why governments tend to support the status quo option. 

Our EU referendum created the inevitable problem that, in the event of a Leave vote, which became predictable weeks before polling day, ambiguity over what kind of Brexit its voters would prefer caused poisonous hostility. 

Now, a simple way of getting round this would have been to alter ballots in New Zealand-style fashion and ask those voting for Brexit a second question: “Do you think the UK should remain a member of the single market?”

Of course, we know what the answer would be if folk were well-informed. Since immigration was the largest single issue aroused by our camp, most would have opted for a single market exit too.

But that is not the point. My point is that a referendum over such a huge issue created a mandate for a policy without a policy. We were left directionless in an uphill battle.

And what made it worse was the fact that we had a government responsible for addressing the policy that did not agree with its premise in the first place. 

Despite being an exercise in direct democracy, our referendum exposed a sharp disconnect between public opinion and the preferences of those in the Westminster bubble. 

Referenda are, as I now appreciate more fully, renowned moreso for the constitutional upheaval they generate. Crimea in 2014 is perhaps a more extreme example. 

Since signalling for EU departure is the most profound democratic decision made by the British electorate arguably in history, it is no surprise that our politicians can barely organise themselves to adhere to it. 

In hindsight, a much more durable alternative to a national poll would have been a clear manifesto commitment, from either of the two major parties, to leaving.

Both Labour and the Tories have more than their fair share of voters wanting out, and any party claiming to be government material must be able to embrace the possibilities that come with legislative repatriation.

Yes, upon election, there would still have been the grave difficulties of negotiation, but at least direction and mandates would be more clearly established.

The only reason why neither party dared to do this was because they were (and still largely are) afflicted by the lingering Blairism that for so long prevented them from carrying out policies supported by faithless voters.

David Cameron certainly wouldn’t accept such an inclusion in a Tory manifesto. He is as supportive of the European project as they come.

A mutual friend of Dan Hannan and I, and notable Flexcit supporter, once told me that during his years at university, Mr Cameron donned prized cufflinks sporting the EU flag.

And the party’s current stock of leadership contenders aren’t much different, I might add. A referendum may therefore seem like an escape from this problem, but in reality caused many new ones of its own.

Had there been no referendum, significant pressure from Tory party members would have spurned their politicians into action, I am sure of it. 

I sometimes wonder what the European Commission and fellow member states think of all this. They cannot possibly consider Mrs May to be tough negotiating material.

She made far too humiliating a mess of last week’s General Election to be considered so, and only remains in Number 10 thanks to a cynical, gentleman’s agreement from the DUP (who themselves favour what we call ‘soft’ Brexit).

I must also point out here that in no way do I regret my vote or campaigning last year. I am as fervent a supporter of our secession as one can be. I just think that our means of securing that exit were profoundly flawed.

And since elections are now heavily influenced by last year’s result, as was expected given how divided we are, it may as well have been a party decision to take us out after all.

 


Theresa May has been exposed as a political fraud once and for all

At last, Theresa May has been exposed as the ineffective, political fraud that she is. Quite a shame it is, though, that in order for the public to realise it, the country must sit and suffer through a minority government doomed to failure whether it is supported by the DUP or not. I doubt it will make it through the Brexit negotiations, or perhaps even to 2018.

One of the major reasons why I couldn’t bring myself to vote in this election was Mrs May herself. Aside from her woeful track record as Home Secretary, in which she clamped down on valuable freedoms, ravaged police budgets and botched spectacularly her efforts to get immigration under control, this election has exposed clearly her inability to lead.

Her advisers, Fiona Hill and Nick Timothy, have rightly taken some of the criticism, but the buck will fall with the Prime Minister. And so it should. This Tory campaign was one of the worst in history. So bad, in fact, that it let an IRA-sympathising Marxist come close to Number 10. Let that sink in for just a moment.

There are many reasons why May’s campaign backfired so dramatically. One factor was a Lynton Crosby decision to make it all about their leader. It was Team Theresa, in which every vote for her strengthened her bargaining power in negotiations with the European Union.

Campaign strategy was personalised in this way in order to frame political debate in terms of the ‘strong and stable’ (ha) May and her opponent, the hapless, scruffy Jeremy Corbyn, knee-deep in attacks from his own parliamentary party and likely to require some sort of coalition in order to get into government.

It was a strategy that pitted the strong against the weak, the stable against the chaotic, and it made sense when coupled with early, convincing polling leads of up to 21 points. But there soon developed a problem. Mrs May is a very wooden and uninspiring performer, especially when put under pressure by opponents and journalists.

There were countless times during the campaign in which she blatantly avoided simple questions, and thanks largely to horrid gaffes from senior Labour figures like Diane Abbott, she was allowed to get away with them more or less unscathed. Perhaps this was the real reason she didn’t take part in either leader’s debate, forgettable and nauseatingly stage-managed as they are.

The Prime Minister knew that she would not perform at all credibly. But, regardless of the motive not to show up, there was revealed a fetid hypocrisy. Any strong and stable leader would appear at political contests of this kind to defend his or her party interests. May’s back peddling revealed fatal flaws in the Tory campaign message. It was here that things really started to unravel.

Compounding upon her oratory weaknesses was her profound lack of direction. Mrs May, ironically compared with Margaret Thatcher as her Prime Ministerial tenure began, got herself caught up in sticky, unnecessary U-turns both before and during the election.

We were told that there would be no snap General Election. We were then told that the National Insurance contributions of self-employed workers would not be raised. Then there was the debacle with social care, which was soon climbed down from for fear of alienating that vital pensioner vote.

I am sure the government is in far too weak a position to even consider pursuing it now anyway. By the time the policy is revisited, it is quite possible that Mrs May will be sitting on her couch in Maidenhead, relieved of her duties and wondering why she ever bothered to call an impromptu election in the first place.

Then came the manifesto; one of the most vacuous in modern history. In many ways it was similar to Ed Miliband’s in how lacklustre and minimal it was. It didn’t feel conservative, it felt rushed and lacking in adequate preparation. This may have been because Tory party advisers were expecting a comfortable majority whatever was written.

The Labour Party manifesto, on the other hand, was very impressive. And I am not saying that I agreed with its policy proposals. I have, for instance, spoken out against plans to scrap tuition fees and maintain that zero hours contracts have uses for a range of different people.

Labour’s manifesto was substantially more radical and included policies which retain popular support across much of the country, including amongst Tory voters. A good example of this would be renationalisation of the railways, which a recent YouGov poll (May 17th) revealed majority cross-party support for.

The latter years of the neoliberal period have been defined predominantly by financial collapse. The crash in 2008 sparked a new wave of deep mistrust of markets, but no party prior to Jeremy Corbyn’s Labour had managed to tap into that sentiment.

In this regard, I think the decision (accidental or otherwise) to leak a portion of the Labour manifesto in advance of the other parties was a wise one. Much like with Vote Leave’s use of the £350m figure during last year’s referendum, wide condemnation of Mr Corbyn’s Left-wing policies in the media backfired.

Finally, where May’s Tories spent time fire fighting with its core vote over plans to reform social care funding, the Labour Party managed to arouse younger voters and incentivise one of the surprise turnouts in recent electoral history. The great generational voting divide has opened up once more.

This blog post has been abnormally complimentary about Labour, and this is because I think they deserve great credit. I do, though, put their tally of 262 seats down mainly to Theresa May’s useless leadership and the influence of the Remain vote, seen most glaringly in pockets of London that remained blue for decades.

Labour’s radicalism was daring and paid off, but Kensington certainly didn’t become turn red in one dramatic election over plans to renationalise the National Grid. Moves towards a softer Brexit were undoubtedly made in these areas. Battersea, too, was a surprise gain for Corbyn and his team.

Despite picking up 43 percent of the vote share, Theresa May looks weaker than any Prime Minister in recent memory. There is no way she can stay in the long-term. Minority governments are rare precisely because they are a recipe for instability.

Even the Tories’ new partners, the Democratic Unionists, have differences of their own to iron out. Perhaps people will now start to realise what social conservatism really looks like.

And what really displeased me was how unreflective her speech was of the nation’s verdict on Friday morning. She had to save face, of course, but her podium address outside Number 10 Downing Street reeked of ignorance and arrogance. It is no wonder many of her Conservative colleagues now despise her.

 


All together now…there are more than two types of production ownership

A fascinating YouGov poll entitled ‘Nationalisation vs Privatisation: the public view’ has been published, with results in brief accessible here: https://yougov.co.uk/news/2017/05/19/nationalisation-vs-privatisation-public-view/ and a more detailed, in-depth table here: https://d25d2506sfb94s.cloudfront.net/cumulus_uploads/document/uufxmyd8qm/InternalResults_170518_nationalisation_privatisation_W.pdf that showcase the country’s views on ownership of several of the country’s most important industries.

It is a relatively mixed bag produced by a cross-party sample of slightly fewer than 2,000 adults. Some results, such as the substantial support for renationalising the energy companies and privatisation of the telephone and internet providers, surprised me. Others, like the tiny percentage in favour of privatising the NHS, did not.

I like studying polls of this sort because they offer quite a clear picture of the economic consensus embedded in the population. I have a feeling that much of the growing support for state involvement in major sectors of the economy is down to a mistrust of the market; exacerbated by both the 2008 financial crash and other consequences of the neo-liberal period, such as the ripping apart of the middle class.

Admittedly, the sample is quite small, but I don’t think larger samples would suggest that this poll is especially anomalous. It appears to me that the country has steered slightly to the Left on the economy, but since most do not think in terms of ideology, it means very little for Jeremy Corbyn’s electoral prospects. A party breakdown of beliefs is provided and yields quite interesting results. Labour and Tory voters, more alike on policy issues than they will ever care to admit, are most sharply divided over rail ownership.

There is, though, something else about polling such as this that concerns me. The title of it and the options given to those who took part are very misleading and assume that only two different kinds of production ownership exist. It is crucial for the sake of informing political debate over public policy that people are reminded of the forgotten third option. The means of production in a society can be arranged through nationalisation, privatisation or worker control of industry; which can itself be described as the very core of socialism, where producers take control of production.

Omitting the third option in polling is to be understood, of course. Adding in ‘worker control of industry’ may create unnecessary confusion and boost the likelihood of a ‘don’t know’ response. But polling is not the only incentive for this post. This past week, the country’s major parties have all released their manifestos ahead of next month’s General Election.

Much of the commentary since particularly the Labour and Tory manifesto reveals has circulated around whether or not Britain can afford to renationalise certain sectors of the economy and whether it is a viable solution to the problems we are facing. Plans to bring the Royal Mail, railways and National Grid back under public ownership, as well as introducing a National Investment Bank and National Education Service, have prompted misleading newspaper headlines about the 1970s and the now conventional bashing of state socialism, which is less electable than it has ever been (in part due to the UK’s staggering levels of public debt).

Direct worker control of industry, therefore, ought not to be left out of public debate because it may represent the alternative to neoliberal capitalism that the Left has been searching for over the last forty years. The Labour Party of the last two years has openly referred to itself as a socialist party, so why doesn’t it support producers taking control of production instead of managing industry itself?

As long as the Left pushes for government programs which increase borrowing, public spending and taxes, it will not be able to formulate a constructive alternative to neoliberalism. It must recognise the value in low-tax, democratising policies like worker control of industry if it is to avoid further swelling of our national debt and more hits to its voter base.

I make no comment about whether worker control of industry is preferable in each individual sector or to the efficiency of production as a whole. To make judgement would be difficult at this stage. I also reaffirm that I am not a socialist. I merely think clarification is useful where it is not being applied by politicians or by the media.


An analysis of the gathering storm clouds over the Korean peninsula

Back in January, the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists, a respected academic journal collating the world’s leading thinkers on global security and threats, altered their ‘Doomsday clock’ (initially established upon the founding of the agency in 1947), setting it to two and a half minutes to midnight. Midnight, of course, meaning: it’s over.

I am astonished the re-setting didn’t get more pertinent media coverage. This is, after all, the most respected journal on nuclear affairs, and any warning signal given by specialists in the field should be treated very seriously indeed.

The clock has been this late before, I should inform readers. The atomic analysts set it to two minutes to midnight back in 1953, upon the ending of the Korean War and heightened hostilities between the world’s two superpowers.

This morning I went back and read their reasonably short and concise report in light of the geo-political movements of recent days. It can be read here, for anybody interested. 

Particularly fascinating are the following two passages, which can be found on pages 3 and 7 respectively, precisely because they articulate North Korea’s role in both the intensifying of friction between nuclear powers and the adjusting of the Doomsday clock:

“North Korea conducted two more nuclear weapons tests, the second, in September, yielding about twice the explosive power of the first, in January. Pyongyang also relentlessly tested missiles, achieving a rate of about two launches per month in 2016. In his 2017 New Year’s statement, Kim Jong-un declared he would soon test a missile with an intercontinental range.”

…and

“The United States, China, Russia, and other concerned nations engage with North Korea to reduce nuclear risks. Neighbours in Asia face the most urgent threat, but as North Korea improves its nuclear and missile arsenals, the threat will rapidly become global. As we said last year and repeat here: Now is not the time to tighten North Korea’s isolation but to engage seriously in dialogue.”

I have thought for a while that North Korea, not ISIS, would prove to be Donald Trump’s biggest foreign policy challenge. This was primarily because, towards the latter stages of the previous United States administration, ISIS lost a lot of ground both in Syria and Iraq, whilst North Korea ramped up their nuclear development program. One threat seems to have leapfrogged the other.

The world appears to be inching towards nuclear conflict and an increasing proportion of hostilities are being driven by officials in Pyongyang. But we didn’t necessarily have to have arrived here. It is worth examining historical records.

In 1994 the United States and the DPRK signed what was coined in Washington as the ‘Framework Agreement’. The deal prescribed that the U.S withdraw hostile, pre-emptive military acts in the Korean peninsula and embark upon comprehensive trade and diplomatic relations, in exchange for an easing on economic sanctions and a halting to the development of North Korean nuclear weapons.

The agreement was successful, until about six years later when George W Bush became U.S president. He immediately dismissed the deal and re-imposed harsh sanctions, before labelling North Korea as the third wheel in what he referred to as the ‘axis of evil’.

Richard Perle, the former chair of the Defense Policy Board which advised the Bush administration’ Defense Department, said of the 1994 Framework Agreement that “the basic structure of the relationship implied in the Framework Agreement…is a relationship between a blackmailer and one who pays a blackmailer.”

In the mind of President Bush, Perle had painted the nature of the Clinton administration’s agreement with North Korea in a misleading fashion, and it may have resulted in a warping of Bush’s attitude towards dealing with the North Korean problem. So US-DPRK ties soured and North Korea resumed its nuclear weapons program.

But, a few years later in 2005, a new agreement was proposed. Pyongyang asked Washington to cease engaging in hostile military acts, to bring an end to crippling economic sanctions (effectively a non-aggression pact) and to enact provisions over a system to provide North Korea with low-enriched uranium for scientific purposes. In return, they promised to suspend their nuclear weapons program. I think this, much like the 1994 Accords, was a reasonable proposal.

Bush did not accept the agreement; something we now know to be a mistake. If we look at the situation now it appears as if, by flouting openly their nuclear progress, North Korea are beckoning for the United States to offer them some kind of deal.

They know that if they want something from the global hegemon, developing weapons is the only action they can carry out that will garner its attention and lure it into a dialogue. In a perverse way it is actually extremely sensible.

No longer can they wholeheartedly rely on the Chinese, too. China has grown increasingly frustrated with its communist neighbour, understandably tense parked next to a promiscuous nuclear state on the Asian continent and worried about a large-scale build up of refugees on the border that the two countries share (this could very well be why the Chinese have warned the US about war escalation).

The concern for the region now is a question of how far Pyongyang is willing to go with its nuclear program. Is it merely trying to attract the attention of the United States, as it has done so repeatedly over the past two and a half decades, with its long held aim of creating nuclear missiles capable of reaching continental America?

If the United States is to act quickly, it will have three options: intensive discussion starting soon, pre-emptive military strikes (which I think will happen) or harsher economic sanctions, which have been tried time and time again and usually result in strengthening Pyongyang’s intransigence in developing nuclear weapons.

John Delury, a professor of Chinese studies at Seoul University, wrote recently for Foreign Affairs: “North Korea will start focusing on its prosperity instead of its self-preservation only once it no longer has to worry about its own destruction. And North Korea will consider surrendering its nuclear deterrent only once it feels secure and prosperous and is economically integrated into Northeast Asia.”

I think he is correct. Pyongyang seeks reassurances, and will continue to pursue them aggressively. Kim Jong-un has already proven himself to be more forceful than his predecessor, conducting 35 missile tests and four nuclear missiles in his four years at the head of the North Korean regime. Jong-Un will also want to present his country as a force so as to incentivise his neighbours to act in ways that will calm his regime. There certainly seems to be a Machiavellian motive to all this.

Washington, on the other hand, is once again bemused. It is trying to figure out what its approach ought to be towards the DPRK. I fear we will see yet another display of Trumpist unilateral bombing, irrespective of China’s desperation for North Korea to remain as stable as it can possibly be.


Don’t arm Britain’s police in the name of terror

After a terror atrocity, it usually takes at least a few days for rational thought to creep back into political discourse. Sometimes it can be much longer than that.

It was for this reason that I waited a little while before commenting on the horrific incident in Westminster on Wednesday afternoon. I wanted to distance myself from some of the hysteria that I feel unhelpfully attaches itself to events of this kind, especially on social media.

One of the most common post-attack and counter-terrorism suggestions from the public and members of the intelligentsia has been to arm all British police officers.

This is a policy that has been advocated for years, it doesn’t just come from the screams of statists after March 22nd. As the UK’s terror threat has heightened (somehow, a terror threat can be measured), so too have the calls for arming all officers intensified.

The trouble is that the proposal is a gimmick and not a silver bullet, is opposed by most British police officers and radically transforms the nature of the relationship between police and the public.

In 1829, Sir Robert Peel, who introduced the Metropolitan Police as Home Secretary, wrote his ‘9 principles of law enforcement’. Principle number seven will interest readers:

“The police at all times should maintain a relationship with the public that gives reality to the historic tradition that the police are the public and the public are the police; the police are the only members of the public who are paid to give full-time attention to duties which are incumbent on every citizen in the intent of the community welfare.”

Officers are citizens in uniform, not a militia that, in effect, provides the state with a monopoly of force. Policing must be carried out at the consent of the public, which it is, and not at the barrel of a gun.

I think that to arm all of Britain’s police officers is a fundamental betrayal of their purpose and the values that Robert Peel had in mind when he introduced them 187 years ago (which included a period of mass public armament, lasting until 1920).

It is no surprise to me that in a recent Metropolitan Police Federation poll[1], most officers opposed the compulsory arming of all British police officers, similar to the system that currently operates in Northern Ireland.

Of the near 11,000 police officers polled, only 26% said that they believed all Metropolitan police officers ought to be routinely armed on duty, though most reported that there should be more authorized firearms officers on the streets.

Given the trials and tribulations that follow police shootings, it is not hard to see why the majority oppose forced armament. Months of stress and lengthy investigations will take their toll on any police officer.

Difficult, too, must media coverage be to deal with. Often, a person knowingly and deliberately shot by a police officer is painted as a sympathetic figure after such an incident. Those who remember the London riots of 2011 will be fully aware of this.

Police officers do not want to have to shoot people. That is the job of soldiers or specialised units with years of training and experience. Investigations on officers who do use their firearms, no matter the circumstances, will come under incessant questioning.

This poses a huge problem for forces that increasingly have to deal with policemen and women (rightly) taking time off to ease any psychological issues that they may be having. Having relatives in the job, I have seen the physical and mental impact policing can have on those who do it.

The reality is that some officers will be far too trigger-happy and others unable to deal with the guilt and burden of having to end another person’s life. We love and idolise our police officers during times of crisis and terror, but seldom do we think about them when normality resumes.

Robert Peel visualised police officers as being men and women whom we can approach at any time, place our trust in, feel comforted by, equal to and yet at the same time revere as both a source of reasonable authority and a rallying point for the frightened and vulnerable.

Like the officers surveyed, I oppose the obligatory arming of all British police officers, and indeed oppose additional armed units, whether in busy, metropolitan areas or not. We have plenty of authorised firearms officers in Britain already.

The problem created by continually expanding upon armed units is that police forces will inevitably be sucking resources away from ordinary policing. That is to say that the more money, time and manpower diverted to armed officers, the less there will be for patrolling constables and the public will feel abandoned by a force already accused of withdrawing from the streets.

As any daily commuter into London now knows (and I reference London because it is both fertile soil for these sorts of atrocities and the jurisdiction for the officers who took part in the Met’s poll), armed officers roam the capital’s busiest regions on a daily basis.

Major train stations are crawling with them, as are landmarks and buildings of significance. Even suburban shopping centres, such as Bluewater and Lakeside, and town high streets have seen a notable increase in armed police presence in recent months.

As I walk around these sorts of places, I feel a distinct unease. This is not just thanks to the sight of assault rifles, which are designed to frighten others into obedience and drill holes in human flesh, killing mercilessly.

It is also because the very visual of watching your local neighbourhood patrolled in such a sinister manner is a telling sign that we are gradually becoming a less free society.

Take a quick look outside of Britain, and focus on what is happening in mainland Europe. France, Germany and Turkey, current experiencing problems far worse than our own, all have very heavy armed police presences.

I might argue that increasing the visibility of armed officers has perhaps encouraged terrorists. It has sent out the signal that people are afraid and need protecting, and that by engaging in these dreadful acts of violence, terrorist actions are influencing public policy, leaving a legacy of their own and appealing to the vanity of other potential attackers.

Admittedly, there are structural differences between Britain and other European countries in response to terror. Strict gun laws and the English Channel make gun smuggling and possession much more difficult for criminals in the UK.

And so I think the current Islamist threat, which I believe exists but is not anywhere near as pertinent as is often suggested by politicians who will never let a good crisis go to waste, is not comparable to problems faced in, for instance, Northern Ireland prior to police being routinely armed.

For one, and unlike problems caused by the IRA, the Islamist threat can be largely countered online, through bans and monitoring, and secondly, the nature of the radical Islamic threat is changing rapidly. I also think that Islamism is more discreet and covert than the IRA-sponsored threat faced by the UK some time ago.

But when attacks do happen, increasingly we see that vehicles are the designated weapon of choice. Cars and lorries are not easily stopped by even the most highly skilled of armed police officers.

So the latest wave of support for Britain’s unarmed police to carry anything more than tasers, which I believe (as the incident at Leytonstone tube station showed) are effective enough tools for modern police, strikes me as yet another encroachment on our liberties.

Western governments are renowned for offering us the fig leaf of security in exchange for our most prized personal freedoms. I am shocked they haven’t already started hiring the many thousands of instructors (which we don’t have and can’t afford) that will be needed in order to arm all of Britain’s police.

And as I write, I am reminded by an infamous Benjamin Franklin quote, as relevant as it has ever been.

 

 

 Notes

[1] http://metfed.org.uk/news?id=7185

 


UKIP will not pose a threat in 2020, but this may be bad for British politics

I now think that UKIP will play no considerable role at the 2020 General Election (provided, of course, that there isn’t one sooner). My conclusion is partly informed by uninspiring quarrels between its senior figures and partly by the result of last year’s referendum, which now seems so far away I can scarcely believe how time has flown.

Notice that I use the word ‘uninspiring’. Of course, squabbles in political parties – despite the fact that they can open up debate – aren’t usually very helpful, but with UKIP, matters are made worse. The party was primarily a one-issue political force, acting as a battering ram and driving home an agenda that had been forgotten or deliberately ignored for far too long.

At present, UKIP lacks purpose and direction. Its primary goal has almost (barring a few late hiccups) been achieved and it must now attach itself to other issues worth pursuing. Indeed, Michael Heaver, Nigel Farage’s former spin doctor, thinks that proportional representation and House of Lords reform are two such issues that the party can use to maintain its foothold in British politics.

This is a false trail. These areas of policy are fringe issues not capable of rallying a significant portion of the electorate. UKIP’s divisions are therefore uninspiring because neither side is offering any credible path towards long-term relevance in the current political climate. Arron Banks, who funded UKIP at the last General Election, claims that Paul Nuttall is week, but the problem is in fact much deeper.

The party has reached its sell-by date, and as the party only ever truly planned for a referendum, it is unsurprising to me that it finds itself a little hollowed out and purposeless afterwards. This is itself causing internal doubt and frustration. Being the leader, Mr Nuttall will find himself in the crosshairs, but truth be told, even Nigel Farage would struggle to keep UKIP on the map.

I do not write this gleefully by any means. I have always been fair to UKIP and stood up for the party when under unjust attack. This is because I believe that its impact on British politics has been largely productive. Its success transcends electoral representative democracy and, perhaps ironically, was aided largely by its very inconvenience to the establishment parties and their pocketed media tycoons.

UKIP’s most profound influence on British politics was to apply serious pressure on the Conservative Party to be conservative; to stop supporting Britain’s ongoing membership of the European Union, to stop imposing on the country unprecedented levels of mass immigration, to strengthen and illuminate the national culture and character. These simple premises had long ago been abandoned by a party that knew that all it had to do was mirror Blairite values and – as the Labour Party was hollowed and left demoralised in the ensuing post-Blair years – it would guarantee electability for years to come.

The Conservative Party knew that it had become New Labour. How could anybody have missed the many glaring parallels between its leader, Mr Cameron, and his now infamous predecessor? The trouble was, so too did many of its members. Its most disgruntled supporters switched their allegiances and opted instead to seek refuge in a growing party that believed and said the things conservatives had been saying vainly for so long. It is no wonder that UKIP became a force in such a short period of time.

Nigel Farage shrewdly spotted a few years ago that if he could only (but correctly) associate mass immigration with EU membership, and raise awareness to a possible referendum, his and his party’s political legacy would be secure. Though what he still does not recognise, to his discredit, is how ineffective the Leave campaign would have been had UKIP been spearheading it during the country’s referendum period. Alas, it no longer matters. Our side won it, all that remains is for departure to be negotiated and executed.

But what of the future of UKIP? I would love for my prediction to fall flat. They have been a useful kick in the backside for the Tories down south and northern Labour who, shamefully, have resisted public opinion (even that of its own voter base) and insisted on fighting – rather than listening to, UKIP. In the run up to the triggering of Article 50, backsliding on Brexit was widely suspected. But come the inevitable collapse of UKIP, a party almost too combustible for its own good, more serious backsliding may be seen.

The Tories, knowing full well that much of conservatism is damage limitation, may not see a battle worth fighting, and we could well see them revert to their old, disingenuous ways, freed of the UKIP-led electoral pressure that so many took for granted.


What the BBC misses about Leave voters and immigrants 

One of the most overrated and overblown reasons for folk voting out of the European Union last summer was immigration. There existed within the Leave vote a substantial contingent that advocated retaining membership of the single market and pursuing what is called the ‘EEA option’. There was a large rural vote for Brexit based on the recovery of national sovereignty that came from areas not hugely impacted by mass immigration. There was also, believe it or not, a youth vote – much of it libertarian – that saw leaving the EU as an opportunity for profound democratisation. I am very much in the latter category.

I do not deny that immigration was a huge factor in the referendum. It was the most notorious and penetrable of each individual issue, and almost all polling placed it in the top one or two of concerns held by the British public (on both sides of the vote, no less). Nor do I deny that racists played their part in voting for Britain’s withdrawal from the European Union. No doubt almost every self-professed or blatantly racist individual was on our side – doubtless the most useful contribution they have made to our country.

What annoys me is not the very valid association between Brexit and immigration, but the immediacy of the implications made that Leave voters based their decision primarily, or even solely, on this issue. Especially when these hints are left by mainstream media outlets seeking to lash out at certain sections of the public for voting the way that they did or for thinking the thoughts that they think. A BBC video package and news story published two days ago left exactly this sour taste in my mouth. Please take a moment to view it, here, as you will need to check it out to grasp my analysis:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-38999575

The headline ‘The Leaver reaching out to immigrants’ is extremely effective, it isn’t hard to see why the editor chose it. The trouble is that, once again, it inappropriately paints Brexit supporters with a particular brush. And there are two problems caused by this article.

The first is that, as the BBC is an extremely authoritative journalistic source (despite its many critics, I still have a lot of respect for the organisation), anybody who comes across this story will assume that ordinary Leave voters are not doing the same, or that they do not care about immigrants. The very running of this story highlights the very real disconnect that lingers between the mainstream media and ordinary Brexit voters. It falsely and presumptuously implies that Julian Thomson, the subject of the package, is an outstanding and unusual Leaver. In the video, he mentions the importance of integration and cohesion; an argument that has been perpetuated by countless commentators and politicians in Britain for the past decade. Even his reasoning for ‘reaching out’ isn’t new or interesting. He is merely offering common argumentation against large scale migratory influxes.

Secondly, where did this notion come from that those who support Brexit must be coerced into or encouraged to feel sorry for their actions? Why should Leavers be made to feel apologetic for their (very reasonable) political persuasion? There is no objective evidence that yet exists that June’s Brexit vote has made Britain a more divisive and racist society. This was an entirely media-driven agenda designed to demonise the 52% and help to construct a dialogue that will encourage dilution or a delaying of the Brexit process. In other words: make us feel bad about our choice and create an atmosphere in which we may have to reconsider. Of course, I do not deny the existence of racism in society, but I do reject continued reactionary associations between Brexit and xenophobia, even if immigration was the main issue for those who voted to leave.

The Labour Party, as was later admitted by Blair’s former speechwriter Andrew Neather, deliberately imposed on the country mass immigration from Europe without giving individuals a say or acknowledging the problems that the policy caused. Brexit, therefore, was the only viable avenue through which members of the public could express understandable dissatisfaction. And since limiting net migration could quite quickly suppress any anti-migrant sentiment across the country, a good argument can be made that Leave voters actually did immigrants living in the UK a favour. Any decrease in the frustration of British people will be welcome news for potential targets, and so by confronting the elephant in the room, Leavers may actually have helped to ease the concerns of foreign-born citizens living in Britain. I have discussed previously at this blog the ways in which limiting immigration will be of considerable benefit to migrants already here. Other examples, besides stemming the tide of resentment, could include easing the demands placed on housing and other public service systems that immigrants in Britain use and pay for. It is therefore worth looking at the bigger picture. Friday’s BBC package ignores the long-term advantages presented to Britain’s foreign-born by Brexit supporters.

The news story is also extremely condescending. Much of the UK’s post-referendum debate has been characterised by hyper-sensitivity. The BBC, in its awe-inspiring wisdom and care for the community, seems to think that migrants in Britain are either entirely unsupportive of an EU withdrawal – which they are not – or that they are incapable of dealing with upcoming political changes and continued integration into society. This proposition would seem to me to be mistaken. Immigrants are, if we remember, among the more brave and resilient members of any society, almost by definition. Certainly the BBC would do well to remember that.


The merits of journalism

I have made a point of not talking about my personal life at this blog, and deliberately so. But, for a purpose you will soon find out, I shall be breaking that rule in this post.

Since September 2014 I have been studying for a degree in journalism. Graduation, if I am so lucky as to pass my dissertation and final portfolio, is this summer. I chose to study journalism for a number of different reasons. Firstly, more so than with most other degrees, skills are transferrable across a wealth of industries. My ability to write, communicate, research and think critically have all markedly improved over the last three years. Secondly, I want to be a person of influence; that being somebody who helps to alter public opinion on a major issue and makes individuals think or re-assess their preconceptions (perhaps the most difficult of my goals to obtain). Journalism gives me the opportunity both now and in the future to carry out research into fields of interest. It is likely that this second reason could be rooted in some sort of personality defect, like a thread of vanity or desire to be centre of attention, but I am at least encouraged that it is a motivating and sincere factor in my professional ambitions. Thirdly, the demands placed on a journalist directly coincide with my character. I am inquisitive, nosey and tend to want to be in possession of knowledge and information that others do not have. I wouldn’t say that this gives me a sense of empowerment, or that I have a strange complex, but I do think that somebody yielding knowledge or information that they have found out is a more interesting and fulfilled person.

During the course of my degree I have networked extremely well, met huge figures in journalism and really expanded the breadth of my knowledge of the trade. It is the importance of maintaining contacts which makes being a journalist so intrinsically useful. Despite the pessimism of so many in the industry, I believe that I will be able to make a living as a journalist. Michael Crick told me some months ago to look at the industry from an entrepreneurial perspective, which I took to mean: ‘try to innovate’. The only real surprise to me is that I didn’t realise sooner in my life (my personality has always stayed relatively consistent) that it was so perfectly tailored to me. Only when I was half way through my A-Levels did it strike me as a potential career option. The question now, though, is not whether it is something I want to do, or whether I think I will be able to do it successfully, but rather why it is worth doing at all. Why should I be a journalist? I see the abuse that journalists receive almost constantly in the modern, digital age. I also see the publications and individuals who besmirch the name of journalism and give it a poor reputation. There is also the problem of journalism’s obligation to impartiality which, when threatened, leads to massive public mistrust of the media; something particularly evident at the BBC.

I am becoming increasingly interested in these issues largely because I think we are ignoring and under appreciating the significance of journalism and the benefits it brings to society. I think that journalism, despite what critics say and the disrepute brought onto it from time to time, is an extremely honourable trade. It always has been at its core and always will be, even during scandals and times of hardship.

Journalism is honourable because it is fundamentally a powerful democratising force. Journalists bridge a vital gap between public figures and events, and those to whom they are held account. Yes, it is true that not all news reported in the press is accurate, and more of it misleading, but the premise remains the same: journalism offers the public a large scrutinising platform and a secure base for informing and organising. This is exceptionally easy to demonstrate.

Take, for instance, the rise of professional blogging. In an essay for the New York Review of Books, Michael Massing wrote that “democratisation and decentralisation are the law of the land”, and that blogging (when it was at its most effective) tore down the power structure of the media. The rise of the blogger highlighted two things: first, the media’s shortcomings, hence the plugging of a gap in the market, and second, the innate desire that people have to inform others and participate in the public arena. Notice that I refer to ‘journalism’ as honourable and not the mainstream media. This is significant as I do not want to appear as if I have contradicted myself. Also note that I am not commending digital advance in this scenario. Journalism is very liquid; it doesn’t stay the same. As time goes on and technology evolves, people find new ways to carry out journalism and the spreading of information. The reason for praising the trade and not digital advance is simple. Journalism is constant, whatever the medium, and will always exist in one form or another. The rise of major, daily national newspapers in the early to mid 19th century was a major democratising leap, as was the introduction of the internet for public use. In each era, the means of communication had changed, but the constant stayed the same. Journalists still produce and distribute reports – the only real difference now is that with changes to revenue streams and the prevalence of 24-hour media we have seen the unfortunate rise of click bait headlines and triviality in the national press.

Most criticism seems to me to be unnecessarily reactionary or based on tribalism. Sporting and political reports, for instance, are incessantly bogged down with accusations of ‘bias’ (which only serves to reflect the partisan nature of both beasts), despite this having no real relevance to the factual integrity of the information provided. The mass hysteria that meets the mainstream media is understandable, no doubt, as people feel that certain narratives aren’t being told and that their interests are not represented adequately enough. But it is crucial that we do not confuse the mass media with journalism (as an art, use or practice). Nothing influences social change, public policy and political debate quite like journalism. The trade, after all, demands that individuals involved are well-connected, politically astute and knowledgeable in their given fields. So there is a lot to be said for the argument that journalism rallies the public through raising awareness to causes and helping to shape perception.

Journalism is a noble counterweight to tyranny. It guides and informs whilst keeping tabs on those who sit in positions of accountability. Journalism, though occasionally defamed, remains a powerful means of social organisation. It is worth bearing this in mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Protests are admirable, but a looming Trump state visit is nothing to worry about

It is at least a promising sign for the future that so many people seem willing to engage with politics at present. Clearly 2016 was the kick in the teeth that large sections of the population needed. I am glad that, despite having my own disagreements with views and counter-views expressed in the public arena, people are organising themselves and allowing their voices to be heard. It is refreshing and suggests that history isn’t necessarily on an inevitable course.

Contrary to cynical dismissal, public protests are largely effective and represent two healthy signs in any democracy: firstly, that freedom of assembly is respected and people are free to campaign for causes they deem worthy, and secondly, that citizens care enough to fight for the change they feel should be enacted; a value in and of itself. History tells us that the brainwashing or brutalising of people into indifference can have awful consequences. 

Most democratisation, it is worth remembering, has nothing to do with government. Much of it is the collective attempts of passionate individuals to try to shape their surroundings, be it saving a local park or unionising at work. That is why I am appreciative of the very real efforts of individuals to fight back against both Donald Trump’s Executive Order on immigration and his looming state visit to Britain. It shows a willingness to respond to major political changes; a quality not easily found in the disenfranchised. I don’t necessarily approve of some of the reaction and hostility, but engagement is undoubtedly a positive thing. Protests are almost always admirable, and if I see them in the street I usually smile and aid efforts by posting a photo or two on social media.

Trump’s ‘Muslim ban’ (which wasn’t a ban on Muslim entry to the United States, but rather a 90-day suspension on immigrant and non-immigrant entry for nationals of seven countries earmarked as terrorism hotspots) provoked understandable backlash, but much of it came from ill-informed audiences, who clearly had not bothered to read the order in full. While “Muslim ban” makes for a provocative hashtag, it was deceiving and represents one of the ways in which mass media has a quite corrosive effect on democracy; in that it misleads and makes it difficult for people to inform themselves. 

As for the new president’s upcoming state visit to Britain, which more than a million people object to in a hilarious new petition which claims that he should be prevented from making the visit so as not to “cause embarrassment to Her Majesty the Queen”, there isn’t much to worry about. Touching though it is for the Left to spare a thought for royalty for a few moments. Far more reprehensible world figures have travelled to London amidst more muted public outrage, such as King Abdullah in 2007 or Xi Jinping a little more than a year ago. Now that I think properly about it, it is especially bewildering that more fuss meets the arrival of Donald Trump than did Saudi Arabia’s horrid monarch. Perhaps I’m giving Twitter a little more credit there than it deserves. 

Again, I try to give protestors (and I’m expecting quite the platoon upon his eventual arrival – the counter-event will no doubt take on a life of its own) the benefit of the doubt. They are making their voices heard and trying to influence things; a natural human response that helps to explain the popularity that democracy retains. So long as any exhibition doesn’t take the form of violence or riotous chaos, and showcases – as the best protests always do – some charming British wit, I applaud those who take part and respect their right to free assembly.

But the wave of anger that now confronts Mr Trump’s state visit to the UK isn’t justified. Yes, the President is himself thoroughly disagreeable in many aspects and cuts a controversial figure, but we should take a few important things into account. Lord Ricketts, a Foreign Office secretary during the days of the coalition government, said of May’s decision to invite President Trump so quickly: “It would have been far wiser to wait to see what sort of president he would turn out to be before advising the Queen to invite him. Now the Queen is put in a very difficult position.”

I do not think he is correct. I think precisely the opposite is true. It appears to me wiser to invite him at a moment in time in which world leaders are trepidatious and do not know how to react to him. I think this allows Britain to get ahead, establishing strong ties with Washington and a president getting a feel for the demands of his new job. State visits, no matter who sits next to Her Majesty in the golden carriage, are not about individual politicians. They are opportunities for strengthening bilateral relations, not personality tests.

Trump is not Hitler or Stalin. He is an entirely new entity that international diplomacy and world order are going to have to adjust to. Protests will not change these unalterable facts, but they might help to show America’s new president that not everybody appreciates his way of doing things.