The defence minister of Japan, a man whose job it is to worry about things that go boom, has declared that his nation's military ramp-up is 'critical'. This pronouncement comes hot on the heels of a UK pledge to form a 'joint carrier strike force' with our Nipponese chums. Yes, you heard right. Britain, an island nation whose navy currently consists of two aircraft carriers that spend more time in port than a hungover sailor, is promising to project power in the Pacific. It is a promise so audacious, so steeped in gin-soaked bravado, that even the most dedicated Brexit cheerleader might choke on their bangers and mash.
Let us paint a picture, dear reader. In one corner, we have Japan, a country that has spent the last seven decades being constitutionally pacifist and now finds itself in a frantic weapons-buying spree. They are buying missiles, building warships, and generally acting like a teenager who just discovered the internet and wants to download everything at once. In the other corner, we have Britain, a country that couldn't even protect a container ship from Iranian capture a few years ago. But now, in a stroke of geopolitical genius, we are going to sail our carriers to the South China Sea. Perhaps we can take some Brexit negotiators along, those masters of making impossible promises.
The defence minister, a Mr. Kishi (not the assassination victim, the one who smells trouble), used the word 'critical' with the urgency of a man who has just spotted a ninja in his wardrobe. His country is spending two percent of GDP on defence, a target that Britain still hasn't bothered to meet. But why let facts spoil a good headline? The British government, in its infinite wisdom, has decided that what the world really needs is another carrier strike group. It is a decision so preposterous that it could only have been dreamt up after a particularly heavy session in the Commons bar.
Let us examine this 'joint carrier strike force'. What does it entail? Will we send HMS Queen Elizabeth, the carrier that famously broke down on its maiden voyage? Or perhaps HMS Prince of Wales, the one that had a catastrophic coupling failure? These are noble vessels, indeed, but their track record is less 'Rule Britannia' and more 'Please, Sir, I want some more' from Oliver Twist. The Japanese will be thrilled to have our barge bobbing alongside their newly minted Izumo-class helicopter destroyers, which have been converted to carry F-35s. It is like showing up to a Ferrari dealership in a Reliant Robin. But hey, at least it's British.
And what of the strategic logic? The UK is allegedly doing this to protect freedom of navigation in the Indo-Pacific, a region that is about 8,000 miles from Dover. Meanwhile, our own waters are being patrolled by French fishing trawlers who seem to have a better grasp of British maritime law than the Royal Navy. But no, let us send our entire naval capability to the other side of the world. After all, what could possibly go wrong?
Perhaps the Japanese defence minister is being polite. Perhaps he is secretly hoping that our carriers will serve as decoys, sacrificial lambs in a future conflict. Or maybe he just appreciates the effort. But one thing is certain: this is theatre. Pure, unadulterated, flag-waving theatre. The kind of spectacle that makes you reach for a stiff gin and tonic.
In conclusion, the UK-Japan carrier alliance is a beautiful, stupid, and utterly British idea. It is the geopolitical equivalent of a gentleman in a top hat stepping into a boxing ring with a champion fighter, convinced that his manners will see him through. We can only hope that the gin holds out. Because when the music stops and the carriers start leaking, we will all need a drink.
