Barbed wire and brass bands. That was the scene greeting Xi Jinping in Pyongyang, a city so closed off even the pigeons need a visa. One might call it a summit of ideological brethren, but our chattering British experts prefer 'geopolitical pickle.' The Great Helmsman descended from his cloud of absolute power to shake hands with a man who controls a nuclear button the size of a domestic cat. Why? Leverage or friendship? The question oozes like warm kimchi down the chins of pundits on the BBC's 'Newsnight.'
Let us tear the pretence. Xi is not visiting Kim Jong-un for the dubious pleasure of watching mass games or tasting the world's most sanctioned wine. This is a state visit with the tactical subtlety of a sledgehammer to a walnut. Beijing needs a buffer. The Americans are snarling about trade wars and tech bans. The South is flirting with peace. And there is North Korea, a loyal if slightly feral hound, barking at the gates of US influence. The alliance is transactional, not sentimental. Xi gets a loyal neighbour to distract Washington; Kim gets economic life support and a diplomatic halo.
But our British experts are having conniptions. Dr. Penelope Wainwright of the Royal United Services Institute said on Radio 4: 'This signals a reset of Sino-North Korean relations after years of strain due to sanctions.' Strain? The North has been a hermit so long it has moss growing on its satellite dishes. Another analyst from Chatham House, Mr. Bartholomew Snout, declared: 'It’s a message to the West that China will not abandon its strategic partners.' Strategic partner? That’s like calling a landmine a 'foot massager.'
The summit itself is a masterpiece of stagecraft. Xi steps onto the tarmac, Kim steps into a spotlight two decades in the making. They toast to 'eternal friendship' over glasses of something that probably costs a month’s salary for the average Pyongyangite. Meanwhile, the regime’s missile tests resume, the nuclear programme hums, and the people starve in a choreographed famine. This is not friendship. This is a ballet of mutual convenience performed on a tightrope over an abyss of sanctions.
So what is the takeaway for the chattering classes? Xi’s visit is a thumb in the eye of the UN Security Council, a reminder that China writes its own rules. Kim gets a lifeline. The rest of us get more confusing headlines. And somewhere in a think-tank in Bloomsbury, a junior researcher is feverishly typing a policy paper that will be filed under 'Things We Already Knew.'
As I file this from a pub in Soho, nursing a gin that tastes of regret, I raise my glass to the analysts: thank you for decoding what was already plain as the nose on a panda’s face. Xi is in Pyongyang not for the scenery. He is there because in the game of nations, even hermits need a friend with deep pockets. And British observers will continue to explain the obvious until the last ice cap melts.
