In a diplomatic dust-up that had more twists than a Bertie Wooster novel with a bad gin habit, Her Majesty's finest mandarins have sent the Hun packing from the UN Security Council's smorgasbord of self-congratulation. The story so far: Germany, that perennial underdog of the velvet glove, attempted to ram through a resolution that would have forced a ceasefire in a conflict you've never heard of in a country you can't locate on a map. But the British, bless their scones, spotted the kinks in the plot faster than a Bond villain monologuing, and deployed the time-honoured tactic of 'Let's You and Him Fight' via a procedural motion that left the Berlin delegation looking like they'd lost their wurst in the Reichstag's lost property.
Cue hysteria from the German Foreign Office, who promptly pinned the blame on the Kremlin, because in modern Europe, that's like blaming the butler for the burnt toast. 'Russia,' they wailed, 'has corrupted the Château de la Muette,' which is French for 'We've been outplayed at our own game of Nato-flavoured chess.' But let's be honest, dear reader: this wasn't some KGB sleight of hand.
This was Lord Ponsonby-Smythe, second cousin to a minor viscount, memorising the rulebook while the Germans were still arguing over the correct wine to serve with victory. The result? A glorious symphony of confounded secretaries and muttering ambassadors, all captured in the mercifully silent CCTV footage that the security council's tea lady will leak to a tabloid for a modest sum.
The German chancellor has demanded an explanation, which the Kremlin has furnished in the form of a photograph of a Russian bear playing chess with a British bulldog, captioned 'Our move, you sausage'. Meanwhile, in Whitehall, diplomats are polishing the silver kettle and preparing for the inevitable: Germany will demand a rematch over a schnitzel and chips summit, which will be postponed three times, then cancelled due to 'diary conflicts'. The lesson?
Never try to overrule a nation that invented tea breaks, queueing, and the passive-aggressive apology. And certainly don't expect Russia to take the blame for your own gaffe-fest. As the dust settles, only one thing is clear: the UN Security Council remains the world's most expensive debating society, where the British have just memorised the menu.
