So the orange sphinx has done it again. Donald Trump, the man who promised to end America’s forever wars, is now asking Congress for tens of billions of dollars in new war funds specifically earmarked for potential conflict with Iran. The City of London, that great barometer of global anxiety, is already trembling at the prospect of oil disruption. One can almost hear the ghost of Lord Curzon muttering about the Great Game from his marble tomb.
Let us set aside the usual partisan theatre for a moment. This is not about Trump’s base or the Democrats’ outrage. This is about the return of great power rivalry in the most volatile region on earth. The irony is delicious: a president who campaigned on ending foolish interventions is now deepening the very quagmire he criticised. But that is the tragic flaw of American populism, is it not? It rails against the establishment only to adopt its most reckless habits.
The request for funds, reportedly in the range of $10 to $15 billion, is dressed up as a necessary deterrent. But we have heard this language before. In 1914, the Austro-Hungarian ultimatum to Serbia was also a ‘deterrent’. In 1938, Chamberlain’s guarantees to Poland were meant to deter Hitler. Deterrence, when backed by empty threats or half-measures, merely accelerates the march to war. The mullahs in Tehran are not fooled. They see a president who has torn up the nuclear deal, assassinated their top general, and now asks for money to finish the job.
The City’s panic is, for once, entirely rational. Any disruption to Strait of Hormuz traffic sends shockwaves through the global oil market. But the deeper fear is that the United States, once the guarantor of global stability, has become a rogue actor. We are witnessing the intellectual decadence of the American foreign policy elite, who have swapped the sober realism of Kissinger for the chest-thumping of second-rate neoconservatives.
What does this mean for Britain? Our own national identity is inextricably tied to the Atlantic alliance. Yet we follow a leader who may steer us into a war for which there is no clear exit strategy. The parallels to Suez in 1956 are uncomfortable. Then, as now, a great power overreached, underestimated its adversary, and found itself isolated. The difference is that Eden at least had the decency to resign after his folly. Will Trump’s enablers in Congress show similar wisdom?
Perhaps not. But we must ask ourselves: are we comfortable being the junior partner in a new imperial adventure? The ghosts of 1914 whisper that such adventures seldom end well. The oil will flow, yes, but at what cost in blood and treasure? The City of London should be more afraid for the integrity of the Western alliance than for the price of crude.
Trump’s war chest is a bet on American supremacy. But history shows that such bets are often lost. The Roman empire thought it could subdue Parthia with gold and legions. The British thought they could control the tribes of Afghanistan. Each discovered that hubris has a price. It is time for the grown-ups in Westminster and on Wall Street to ask whether this gamble is worth taking.
