The Trump administration has confirmed it will comply with a federal court ruling blocking the $1.8bn ‘anti-weaponisation’ fund. The decision, announced in a terse Treasury statement late last night, has sent shockwaves through Westminster. It leaves Downing Street scrambling to contain a brewing revolt among Tory backbenchers who backed the fund as a cornerstone of the UK’s post-Brexit foreign policy strategy.
The fund, designed to counter foreign interference and what ministers called ‘hostile state activity’, was frozen by a US judge last week. The White House initially signalled it would appeal. Then came the cave-in. That reversal has infuriated conservative MPs who saw the scheme as a vital shield against Chinese and Russian influence operations. One former minister described the climbdown as ‘a knifing in the dark’.
The inside story is one of raw power politics. The fund’s architects in the Foreign Office had lobbied hard for its preservation. But the US administration faces a crowded calendar: midterms loom, and the judicial backlash threatened to consume precious political capital. A senior Whitehall source put it bluntly: ‘They folded. They needed to move on, and we were the collateral.’
Now the fallout is playing out in real time. The Foreign Secretary is under pressure to make a statement, but Number 10 is wary of aggravating the situation. Privately, officials concede the fund’s future is unclear. ‘We’re looking at options,’ one said. ‘But we’re not in control.’
The affair has exposed a deeper vulnerability in the special relationship. The UK’s reliance on US legal and financial infrastructure for such initiatives was always a risk. Now that risk has crystallised. Eurosceptic Tories, already unsettled by the government’s drift, see this as proof that post-Brexit Britain cannot chart its own course. ‘We swapped one set of rules for another,’ a backbencher fumed. ‘And these ones come with a poison pill.’
Opposition MPs are circling. Labour has called for an urgent parliamentary debate, accusing the government of ‘sleepwalking into a strategic humiliation’. The Liberal Democrats are demanding a full inquiry. And the SNP is using the moment to reprise its case for an independent Scottish foreign policy.
The real game, however, is internal. The Treasury, which backed the fund as a cost-effective deterrent, is now counting the fiscal damage. The Foreign Office is licking its wounds. And Downing Street is trying to keep the lid on a simmering backbench rebellion. The next few days will be telling. If the Prime Minister cannot quickly manufacture a win, the mutterings of a confidence letter will grow louder. This is not a crisis yet. But it is a crack. And in this game, cracks can become chasms.
