In a development so predictable it could have been written by a committee of omniscient parrots, the United Nations has waded into the murky waters of international diplomacy to demand that Iran release a pair of British-linked individuals, the Foremans, who have apparently been detained in a location that may or may not exist on any official map. The timing, of course, is impeccable. Just as Tehran prepares to face yet another round of sanctions, the UN has chosen to remind the world that it still has a pulse, albeit a faint and bureaucratic one.
Let us set the scene. Imagine a room in Geneva, filled with men and women who have perfected the art of looking deeply concerned while achieving precisely nothing. They issue statements, they furrow brows, they adjust spectacles. And lo, a statement emerges: 'We are deeply concerned about the arbitrary detention of Mr and Mrs Foreman. We call upon the Islamic Republic of Iran to immediately release them.' The statement is then translated into six languages, printed on recycled paper, and filed in a drawer marked 'Things That Will Be Ignored.'
Meanwhile, in Tehran, the mullahs are no doubt chortling into their saffron-infused teas. The Foremans, whoever they are, have become pawns in a game that makes chess look like tiddlywinks. Britain, desperate to appear relevant, mutters something about 'robust diplomatic efforts.' The US rattles its sanctions sabre. And the Foremans sit in a room somewhere, wondering how they ended up as geopolitical collateral.
This is the theatre of the absurd performed on a global scale. The UN, that great panjandrum of paper-pushing, demands freedom for two people whose names most of us could not have placed on a map until ten minutes ago. Iran, as is its wont, responds by insisting that the Foremans are spies, or tax evaders, or perhaps merely guilty of having the wrong sort of accent. The sanctions, meanwhile, are the diplomatic equivalent of a sternly worded letter from a mother-in-law.
But let us not forget the real tragedy here. Not the Foremans, though they have my sympathy. No, the real tragedy is the state of journalism that treats this as 'breaking news.' Breaking what? The patience of readers who have seen this farce unfold a thousand times before? The sanctuaries of weary editors who must publish this drivel? The Foremans are not the story. The story is the complete failure of international diplomacy to produce anything other than hot air and press releases.
I propose a new approach. Let us abandon sanctions. Let us abandon UN resolutions. Let us instead send a delegation of clowns, magicians, and failed novelists to Tehran with a firm request: 'Release the Foremans, or we shall read you our unpublished manuscripts.' Now that would be breaking news. Until then, I shall be at the bar, where the gin is dry and the cynicism is refreshingly wet.
