In a development that has sent tremors through the diplomatic cocktail circuit, Donald Trump is set to visit India, ostensibly to mend fences with Prime Minister Narendra Modi. The news comes as a surprise to exactly nobody who has been paying attention to the geopolitical barometer, which has been fluctuating more violently than a gin-soaked sailor in a force ten gale. The United Kingdom, meanwhile, watches from the sidelines with the anxious air of a man who has just realised his trousers are on fire and his emergency number is on a different phone.
Let us, for a moment, consider the sheer absurdity of the situation. Two alpha males, each with a penchant for grandstanding and a hair style that defies the laws of physics, are about to engage in what diplomatic types euphemistically call a ‘bilateral summit’. In the real world, this is simply a photo opportunity where the men will shake hands, smile like they have just discovered a new brand of toothpaste, and then retreat to their respective corners to hurl insults at each other via Twitter. The whole spectacle is reminiscent of a schoolyard fight where the headmaster has been called, but the combatants are too busy posing for the playground paparazzi to actually throw a punch.
But let us not be too hasty to dismiss the import of this meeting. The thawing of ties between the United States and India is a significant geopolitical event, one that could have profound implications for the balance of power in Asia. The UK, ever the nervous onlooker, is particularly interested in the trade implications. For Britain, a nation that has spent the last few years extricating itself from the European Union like a reluctant octopus from a too-tight wetsuit, any shift in the trade winds is cause for alarm. The prospect of new trade agreements between the US and India is both a threat and an opportunity. A threat because it might further marginalise the UK in the global marketplace; an opportunity because, well, there is always the chance that Trump will forget to impose tariffs on imported British gin. A man can dream.
Yet, the real story here is not the trade numbers or the diplomatic niceties. It is the sheer theatricality of it all. Trump and Modi are masters of the political theatre, each possessing a stage presence that would make a Shakespearean actor weep with envy. They understand that in the modern world, perception is everything. The image of two strongmen standing shoulder to shoulder, their chests puffed out like peacocks on steroids, is worth a thousand think-pieces in any newspaper. The substance of their discussions is secondary to the spectacle. What will they agree on? Probably nothing of lasting consequence. Will they sign any binding treaties? Only if they can be printed on golden paper and framed for posterity. This is politics as performance art, and the audience is the entire world, or at least those parts of it not currently distracted by the latest celebrity scandal or natural disaster.
As a journalist who has spent more time in airport lounges than in actual newsrooms, I can tell you that the real action is not in the summit but in the periphery. The real story is the hotel staff polishing the silver for the state dinner, the secret service agents sweating under their suits, the journalists jostling for a better camera angle. It is in these small, often overlooked details that the truth resides. The truth that no matter how many deals are signed or hands shaken, the world will continue to spin, and the gin will continue to flow, and somewhere a child is being born who will one day become a politician just as ridiculous as these two.
So, as Trump boards Air Force One and Modi prepares his welcome speech, let us raise a glass of dubious airport gin to the theatre of politics. May it never cease to entertain us, and may the UK find its trade balance somewhere between the chaos and the comedy. We need the laughs, for crying out loud.
