So much for the special relationship
The BBC's world affairs editor, John Simpson, makes this telling statement about post-election Britain: "Tony Blair's Pyrrhic election victory may well have changed the fundamental principle of British foreign policy for more than 60 years. For the first time since 1941, it may no longer be the automatic choice to stick close to Washington."
Simpson doesn't actually bring up the term "special relationship" - but that's what he's talking about: the heretofore-cherished British notion that, from WWII on, the UK had a unique bond of trust and amity with the United States - a bond that was closer than with any two other nation-states. It goes all the way back to Churchill and Roosevelt, and has been renewed over the years by MacMillian and Kennedy, Thatcher and Reagan, Blair and Clinton, Blair and Bush . . . and now, thanks to Iraq, it could be coming to an end.
The "special relationship" was always far more important to Britain than to America. It was what supposedly gave Britain special prominence in Washington - and allowed that little island to "punch above its weight" in world affairs. The U.S. graciously gave lip service to the notion - but as Britain's post-imperial decline became utterly clear, the Washington elites gave less serious attention to it. Anyway, Blair's squalid election has served as an object lesson in what can happen when a British PM supports the U.S. in the teeth of domestic opposition. And as Simpson notes: "The relationship with Washington will still be of huge importance; but if it comes to a decision whether to side with the United States or with the majority inside the European Union, as it did in 2003, Europe rather than America may well be the default option."
Someone in today's Financial Times (can't remember who, and can't track it down right now) made the telling point that the term "special relationship" was barely used in the British election campaign - either by Blair or the naturally pro-U.S. Tories. Strange, that. Think about how often Thatcher, Major and Blair have trumpeted it in the past. This time, just as many in the Labour Party wanted to keep Tony Blair as far away from the public spotlight as possible, so nobody wanted to bring up the UK's seemingly obsequious relationship with the U.S. and the "Toxic Texan." Michael Howard was also quite happy to mainitain a discreet distance from Bush.
Another thought: A Tom Friedman column in the run-up to the invasion made the point that, as opposition to the war mounted across Europe, including the UK, the British "were becoming more French," i.e., they were starting to take on, in American eyes, the spineless, dubious and duplicitous character of those perfidious Gauls. This is not a widespread opinion in America at the moment, but if UK foreign policy does diverge significantly from that of the U.S. in the future - if it becomes more "European" - that's likely to change. And if that does become the case, what's that likely to do to the one place where, pace Jeremy Tunstall and David Machin, the special relationship has flowered: the Anglo-American global media connection?
Simpson doesn't actually bring up the term "special relationship" - but that's what he's talking about: the heretofore-cherished British notion that, from WWII on, the UK had a unique bond of trust and amity with the United States - a bond that was closer than with any two other nation-states. It goes all the way back to Churchill and Roosevelt, and has been renewed over the years by MacMillian and Kennedy, Thatcher and Reagan, Blair and Clinton, Blair and Bush . . . and now, thanks to Iraq, it could be coming to an end.
The "special relationship" was always far more important to Britain than to America. It was what supposedly gave Britain special prominence in Washington - and allowed that little island to "punch above its weight" in world affairs. The U.S. graciously gave lip service to the notion - but as Britain's post-imperial decline became utterly clear, the Washington elites gave less serious attention to it. Anyway, Blair's squalid election has served as an object lesson in what can happen when a British PM supports the U.S. in the teeth of domestic opposition. And as Simpson notes: "The relationship with Washington will still be of huge importance; but if it comes to a decision whether to side with the United States or with the majority inside the European Union, as it did in 2003, Europe rather than America may well be the default option."
Someone in today's Financial Times (can't remember who, and can't track it down right now) made the telling point that the term "special relationship" was barely used in the British election campaign - either by Blair or the naturally pro-U.S. Tories. Strange, that. Think about how often Thatcher, Major and Blair have trumpeted it in the past. This time, just as many in the Labour Party wanted to keep Tony Blair as far away from the public spotlight as possible, so nobody wanted to bring up the UK's seemingly obsequious relationship with the U.S. and the "Toxic Texan." Michael Howard was also quite happy to mainitain a discreet distance from Bush.
Another thought: A Tom Friedman column in the run-up to the invasion made the point that, as opposition to the war mounted across Europe, including the UK, the British "were becoming more French," i.e., they were starting to take on, in American eyes, the spineless, dubious and duplicitous character of those perfidious Gauls. This is not a widespread opinion in America at the moment, but if UK foreign policy does diverge significantly from that of the U.S. in the future - if it becomes more "European" - that's likely to change. And if that does become the case, what's that likely to do to the one place where, pace Jeremy Tunstall and David Machin, the special relationship has flowered: the Anglo-American global media connection?
posted by hdougie at 3:34 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home