So the hirsute man from Ohio, JD Vance, has been spotted in the rarefied air of a Swiss chalet, sipping what I assume is overpriced mineral water with gentlemen from Tehran. The revelation, leaked by a UK diplomatic source, has sent the usual tremors through the Washington establishment. But let us not feign surprise. This is the logical conclusion of an American foreign policy that has long since abandoned coherence for theatre.
One is reminded, naturally, of the Congress of Vienna, where Metternich and his ilk redrew the map of Europe with the insouciance of a child rearranging chess pieces. But then, those men had empires to manage and wars to conclude. Vance, by contrast, is a senator on a fact-finding mission, or so we are told. The Swiss setting is instructive. Switzerland: the neutral ground for those who wish to be seen as statesmen without the burden of statecraft. It is the wellness retreat of diplomacy, where one can pretend to negotiate while the actual world burns.
Consider the timing. Iran is on the cusp of nuclear capability. The ayatollahs are playing their usual game of brinksmanship, and here comes Mr. Vance, eager to prove that he is more than a hillbilly elegy. But what does he offer? A handsome face and a lack of guile? The Iranians will eat him alive. They have been outlasting American presidents since Carter, and they know that the US Senate is a circus of perpetual motion. One can almost hear the mullahs chuckling over their pistachios.
The truly galling part is the intellectual decadence this represents. America once had a grand strategy: contain communism, spread democracy, enforce the Pax Americana. Now it has a podcast host and a senator with a beard negotiating with the Islamic Republic in a hotel that likely costs more per night than the annual income of most Ohioans. This is not diplomacy; it is cosplay. And the UK diplomatic source, for all his anonymous hand-wringing, is complicit. Britain, the fading lion, still loves to tut-tut from the sidelines while contributing nothing of substance.
National identity, I suspect, is at the root of this shambles. What does it mean to be American anymore? The old certainties are gone. The country is riven by culture wars, economic anxiety, and a sense that the best days are behind it. Vance, by taking this trip, is trying to channel the ghost of Richard Nixon, who famously opened China. But Nixon was a known quantity: a cold warrior with a ruthless streak. Vance is a memoirist with a gift for outrage. They are not the same.
Historical cycles teach us that empires in decline often mistake bluster for strength. Rome had its praetorian guards and bread riots. Britain had its Suez Crisis and pointless colonial wars. America now has secret talks in Switzerland that will lead to nothing, except perhaps a few op-eds and a boost to Vance’s foreign policy credentials. He will return to the Senate, a man of the world, while Iran continues its centrifuges and the UK continues to be the world’s most overstaffed island.
I am annoyed, yes. But I am also tired. Tired of watching intelligent people playact at seriousness while the world spins towards entropy. The Victorians, for all their vices, understood that diplomacy was the art of the possible. Today, it is the art of the televised. So let us clink our Swiss chocolates and toast the new age: where every senator is a peacemaker, every summit is a photo op, and every crisis is just another chance for a man in a suit to look important. L’état, c’est moi? No, l’état, c’est le spectacle.
