It is a grim morning in Pakistan. A train, that most democratic of transport methods, has been bombed near Quetta. At least 20 souls are now departed, scattered across the tracks like discarded lottery tickets. And before the smoke has cleared, before the wounded have even been properly counted, the British government has already offered its 'counter-terror expertise.' Because of course it has. Nothing says 'we care' like a delegation of men in ill-fitting suits claiming expenses for a trip to a country they couldn't point to on a map without a dartboard.
Let us pause and consider this 'expertise.' It is the same expertise that assured us the Iraq War would be a cakewalk. The same expertise that failed to prevent the Manchester bombing. The same expertise that currently fills Whitehall with more acronyms than a dyslexic Scrabble player. The British establishment loves a good explosion in a faraway land, because it provides a platform for our self-appointed saviours to strut about in flak jackets, looking stern for the cameras, while the real work is left to locals who know the terrain and have the good grace not to call themselves 'experts.'
But let us not be churlish. Perhaps our experts can teach the Pakistanis something valuable. How to manage a crisis with maximum bureaucracy. How to write a report that says absolutely nothing but costs two million pounds. How to deploy a phrase like 'robust response' without a flicker of irony. These are skills honed over decades of failure, polished by the endless grind of the Westminster machine.
The tragedy itself is a stark reminder that the empire strikes back in the worst possible way. The train, a symbol of connection and progress, reduced to a charnel house. The victims, ordinary people, probably just trying to get to work or visit family. They are now statistics in a game of geopolitical poker. And the British government, ever the eager hand at the table, is ready to collect its chips.
What will this 'expertise' look like in practice? A team of 'advisors' will fly in, stay at a five-star hotel, demand air-conditioned vehicles, and produce a report that blames everything on 'regional instability' and 'porous borders' without once mentioning the drone strikes, the proxy wars, or the historical meddling that turned this region into a powder keg. They will then fly home, pat themselves on the back, and await their next catastrophe.
The people of Pakistan deserve better. They deserve condolences, not condescension. They deserve aid, not advisors. They deserve a world where the British government's first instinct is to help, not to 'expertise.' But that world is a fantasy. In the real world, the dead are barely cold before the vultures begin circling, waving their credentials like boarding passes.
So raise a glass, if you can stomach it. A toast to the 20 dead. And a curse on the 'experts' who will build careers on their graves. The train of history runs on tracks of blood, and the British government is always willing to sell a ticket.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need another gin. The smell of hypocrisy is starting to cling to my clothes.
