In a move that has the world's foreign offices clutching their metaphors with sweaty palms, the President of India embarked on a state visit to somewhere or other, prompting the Myanmar junta to glue their collective eye to the nearest crack in the blinds. Britain, meanwhile, has dispatched a man with a monocle and a thermos of Earl Grey to 'monitor the situation' from a safe distance, likely a Wetherspoons in Luton.
This is, of course, the same junta that runs Myanmar with the efficiency of a one-armed juggler on a unicycle. They have perfected the art of watching things closely, possibly because their own country is a bonfire of civil liberties and they need something to do between crackdowns. The President's visit, which involves handshakes and photo opportunities with various regional dignitaries, is being interpreted as a seismic shift in regional power dynamics. Or as a nice day out for the President. It's hard to tell with geopolitics, a science that relies heavily on people squinting at maps and saying 'hmm'.
Britain's role in this is typical: they are monitoring. This is the word the Foreign Office uses when they want to appear busy without actually doing anything. Monitoring involves sitting in a room, sometimes with a cup of tea, and watching the news. Occasionally, they will write a strongly worded email to someone. The regional power shift they refer to is likely the result of someone in the Indian government sneezing at the wrong time, causing a domino effect that will be analysed for decades by people with tenure.
The junta's close watching of the India visit suggests they are worried about losing their grip on power, which would be akin to a goldfish worrying about drowning. Meanwhile, the UK's monitoring will probably conclude that the situation is 'fluid', a term diplomats use when they haven't the foggiest idea what's happening. But rest assured, your tax pounds are hard at work, funding someone's existential dread and biscuit consumption.
In other news, the sun rose in the east, water remained wet, and politicians continued to speak with the sincerity of a man trying to sell you a used car with no wheels. The game of thrones rolls on, and we are all just pieces on the board, albeit pieces that occasionally complain about the price of gin.
