In a development that has sent tremors through the corridors of Whitehall and the bar of the Travellers Club, it has emerged that President Xi Jinping of China is to undertake a rare state visit to North Korea, where he will meet Supreme Leader Kim Jong Un. The visit, billed as a ‘historic exchange of views,’ is widely expected to involve the two leaders nodding gravely at one another while pointing at maps of the Korean Peninsula, possibly with a brief interlude for a spot of cake.
British intelligence, never one to miss a chance for a good fret, has been monitoring the situation with the kind of nervous energy usually reserved for a maiden aunt discovering a mouse in the larder. The Foreign Office, in a statement that could have been written by a particularly anxious A-level student, expressed ‘deep concern’ and urged ‘restraint and dialogue.’ Quite right too, because nothing says restraint like a man who can order the obliteration of Seoul with a flick of his wrist and a yawn.
The meeting, scheduled for some point in the near future (the North Koreans are famously vague about timings, possibly because they’ve mislaid their watch), will be the first between the two leaders since before the pandemic. One imagines the conversation might go something like this: Xi: ‘I say, old chap, that missile test was a bit much.’ Kim: ‘It was merely a test of my new fireworks display. Would you like to see the big one?’ Xi: ‘Perhaps later. First, let us discuss economic cooperation.’ Cue laughter from the assembled politburo, who are all in on the joke that the word ‘cooperation’ actually means ‘letting China have everything.’
Meanwhile, back in Britain, the government has activated its ‘nuclear tensions’ protocol, which involves a lot of men in grey suits looking at satellite images and muttering about ‘escalation dynamics.’ The Prime Minister, no doubt thrilled at the distraction from the latest partygate scandal, has been seen striding purposefully through the corridors of power, clutching a briefing folder and trying to look like he understands the strategic implications. His advisors have helpfully prepared a list of talking points, including ‘We are gravely concerned’ and ‘We urge all parties to show restraint.’ Original stuff, that.
But let’s be honest: what can Britain actually do? Send a strongly worded letter? Impose sanctions on North Korea’s already invisible economy? Perhaps we could offer to host a diplomatic reception at Chequers, with cucumber sandwiches and a PowerPoint presentation on denuclearisation. The North Koreans, who have a well-documented weakness for British scones, might be swayed. Or they might just test another missile as a way of saying ‘no, thank you.’
The real irony, of course, is that Xi’s visit is being framed as a potential breakthrough for peace. But anyone who has ever sat through a Chinese state banquet knows that ‘peace’ in this context means ‘everyone doing exactly what China wants.’ Kim, for his part, will be playing the role of the difficult nephew who has to be placated with a large wedge of cash and a promise not to set fire to the living room carpet.
And so the world holds its breath. Or more accurately, pours itself a large gin and tonic and stares at the news ticker, wondering when exactly the whole charade will descend into farce. The answer, as always, is: any minute now. Stay tuned, dear reader, for what promises to be a masterclass in geopolitical theatre, with a supporting cast of panicking diplomats and a soundtrack of distant explosions.
