In a move that has left the Foreign Office reaching for the smelling salts and a stiff G&T, the United States has decided to loosen the fiscal straitjacket on Iran’s oil exports, all while Tehran continues its nuclear doodling. Britain, ever the nervous chaperone at this geopolitical ball, has urged caution, presumably because caution is the only thing left in the diplomatic drinks cabinet after decades of Middle Eastern mixology.
The US, in its infinite wisdom and with the strategic subtlety of a sledgehammer at a souffle competition, has granted waivers to eight countries, allowing them to purchase Iranian crude without incurring the wrath of Uncle Sam. This is the same US that, just months ago, was tightening the screws so hard that Iranian oil revenues were practically begging for spare change. Now, suddenly, it’s all ‘let’s be flexible’ and ‘energy markets need stabilising,’ which is diplomatic code for ‘we’ve realised that $80 a barrel is giving us a headache.’
The UK, looking on from its rainy island, has responded with the sort of measured enthusiasm one might show for a flat pint. A Foreign Office spokesperson, presumably reading from a card that had been through three committee meetings, said: ‘We note the US decision and urge all parties to exercise restraint and maintain the focus on a negotiated solution.’ Translation: ‘Please don’t set fire to the Middle East again. We haven’t finished paying for the last one.’
Meanwhile, Iran is treating the whole affair like a particularly confusing game of poker. President Rouhani, who has been practising his best ‘I’m not bluffing’ face, declared that Iran will continue to reduce its commitments to the 2015 nuclear deal unless Europe steps up with some serious economic Viagra. Europe, for its part, is busy building a financial mechanism called INSTEX which is meant to bypass US sanctions but currently has all the operational efficiency of a chocolate teapot in a heatwave.
The nuclear standoff itself has become a sort of West End farce, with doors slamming, characters popping in and out, and nobody quite sure who is sleeping with whom. The International Atomic Energy Agency reports that Iran is enriching uranium at levels that would make a bomb builder blush, yet insists it has no intention of actually building a bomb. It’s like finding someone with a loaded gun and a list of targets who claims they’re just going to the shooting range.
So where does this leave Britain? In its traditional position: caught between a special relationship and a hard place. London wants to maintain the nuclear deal, keep the oil flowing (but not too much), and avoid being dragged into yet another Middle Eastern quagmire. It also needs to keep the Americans sweet enough that trade negotiations don’t fall apart like a cheap umbrella in a hurricane.
The irony is delicious. The US is easing sanctions in the name of market stability, while Iran accelerates its nuclear programme in the name of economic necessity. And the UK is urging caution, which is about as useful as telling a toddler not to play with matches when the house is already on fire.
In the end, this is a story about the fundamental absurdity of diplomacy. Sanctions are tightened, then loosened, then tightened again like a yo-yo made of razor wire. Countries make promises they can’t keep, then break them in ways they won’t admit. And through it all, the rest of us can only watch, pour another gin, and hope that someone remembers to take the nuclear deal out of the microwave before it explodes.
