In a development that has diplomats reaching for the smelling salts and the nearest bottle of single malt, it has emerged that the Orange One and his Tel Aviv twin, Benjamin Netanyahu, engaged in what sources describe as a 'crazy' telephone call. A call so unhinged, so utterly detached from the reality of international diplomacy, that Downing Street has been forced to dust off its contingency plans. One imagines these plans involve a lot of tea, biscuits, and praying that the Americans don't do something monumentally stupid. Again.
Let us dissect this particular slice of geopolitical insanity. According to leaks that smell suspiciously of a disgruntled civil servant with a grudge and a Twitter account, Trump and Netanyahu spent the conversation brainstorming ways to torpedo the Iran nuclear deal. The deal, which took years of painstaking negotiation and involved more backroom handshakes than a Masonic lodge, is apparently just a trifling inconvenience to these two mavericks. Trump, never one for nuance or reading briefs longer than a Post-it note, reportedly suggested 'something big, something beautiful' to derail the agreement. Netanyahu, ever the eager co-conspirator, apparently countered with ideas that would make a Bond villain blush.
Now, the UK government, in a state of quiet panic, is preparing for the fallout. This is the same UK government that has been clinging to the wreckage of Brexit like a shipwreck survivor on a leaky raft. Now they must navigate the treacherous waters of US-Israeli belligerence. Whitehall sources whisper of 'contingency plans', which is bureaucratese for 'we haven't got a bloody clue what to do, but we must look like we do'. Expect a lot of urgent meetings, hushed phone calls, and the strategic deployment of the word 'concerned' in official statements.
The irony is thick enough to spread on toast. Here we have two leaders, one of whom is in a legal quagmire deeper than the Mariana Trench, the other facing an ongoing probe for corruption, and they are dictating the fate of a nuclear agreement with a country that has a habit of ignoring international norms. It is like putting two toddlers in charge of a fireworks factory. The rest of the world can only watch, fingers in ears, waiting for the bang.
And what of the Iranians? They must be watching this circus with a mixture of amusement and horror. On one hand, they have the spectacle of their enemies making themselves look like petulant children. On the other, they face the very real prospect of sanctions snapping back, of the whole delicate edifice collapsing. They will no doubt double down on their own rhetoric, maybe even spin a few centrifuges for effect. The game of geopolitical chicken continues.
The British contingency plans, rumoured to involve a flurry of diplomatic cables and a possible emergency UN Security Council session, are as likely to succeed as a chocolate teapot. The UK, post-Brexit, is a diminished power on the world stage, more concerned with trade deals and fishing rights than with enforcing global stability. When push comes to shove, No 10 will probably issue a sternly worded letter and hope for the best.
In the end, this is just another episode in the ongoing farce that passes for international relations in the 21st century. A cast of characters so absurd that even Sir John Gielgud would have struggled to deliver their lines with a straight face. Meanwhile, the rest of us, the good people of the world who just want to live without the threat of nuclear annihilation, can only pour a large gin and tonic, turn on the news, and laugh. Because if we don't laugh, we will cry. And there's not enough gin in the world for that.
