In a twist that would make Kafka reach for the gin, JD Vance has emerged as the unlikely face of the Iran nuclear deal, casting a shadow so long it reaches across the Atlantic and drenches Whitehall in a cold sweat. The junior senator from Ohio, a man whose geopolitical expertise appears to be drawn entirely from the back of a cereal box, is now apparently the chosen conduit for negotiations that were once the preserve of suits with actual diplomatic credentials. Meanwhile, the British government, which has spent decades building the delicate scaffolding of nuclear diplomacy, watches on as a man whose primary qualification seems to be his ability to lick the presidential boot without gagging takes centre stage.
It is a spectacle so absurd it would be funny were it not for the fact that the fate of millions rests on the whims of a reality TV president and his sidekick. The Foreign Office, that bastion of stiff upper lips and teacup diplomacy, is reportedly in a state of quiet apoplexy, issuing statements so diplomatically obtuse they might as well be written in code. And all the while, the actual negotiations are being conducted in a language that owes more to Twitter than the Treaty of Westphalia.
One cannot help but wonder if we will soon see a leaked transcript consisting entirely of 'covfefe' and 'very stable geniuses'. The irony is so thick you could cut it with a feather, though preferably one dipped in gin. For Britain, this is not just a slap in the face; it is a full-scale diplomatic shuffle off the global stage.
So raise a glass of lukewarm tap water, chaps, because that is all our international standing is worth now.
