I cannot be the only person in the world (can I?) who turns on the news every morning wondering “What has he said now?” I don’t remember a time when the news has been so dominated by the ill-considered utterances of one man – in particular this one – who is now openly discussing a third term, something that, I think, would require either a change in the American Constitution or a coup (and he’s already tried that one). I don’t believe that it’s too easy – even for an all-powerful president to change the country’s constitution, but there must, I suppose, be ways to circumvent the law – and we know how good he is at that. From this side of the world, the only thing more scary than the prospect of a Trump third term is that of a Vance first one.
It seems that the perception of politicians is completely different at home and abroad. We are certainly not strangers to the ‘hapless leader’ syndrome. I think in the US, both the man Boris himself and Nigel Farage (who, I must point out for the sake of my own sanity, has never been voted into any position of power in this country – yet) are well regarded. Much less so here. I managed to live through both Boris Johnson and Liz Truss, but the possibility of a government led by Farage makes my blood run cold and leaves my incredulity repeatedly banging its head against the borders of infinity. We have suffered enough humiliation already. On this side of the ocean we hold ex-president Obama in the very highest of regard, but I think perhaps this is not entirely the case in America.
I studiously try to avoid sounding off about politics in other countries because, truth be told, it is none of my business, but when it begins to materially affect me (and everyone else around me) then perhaps it’s ok to vent a little now and then. (You are completely forgiven if you treat it just as seriously as my wife does.) Trump is very much more feared than respected over here – but perhaps that’s what he wants. I can only guess that his hats do not say ‘Make America Great Again (by Stabbing Your Staunchest Allies in the Back)’ only because they are not big enough to fit it all on. Hearing him say that ‘often our friends are the worst’ smarts a little, particularly for a country like ours which has always stood – and individually fallen – alongside our American friends.
It is no longer ‘the love of money’ that is the sole root of all evil; the protection of it has an equally devastating effect. At least the people of the Ukraine, fighting to resist the restless paranoiac violence of Vladimir Putin will be relieved to know that the rare-earth minerals that Donald Trump plans to take as reparation will not carry a tariff – unless you count human life.
Repeated allusions to making Canada (the world’s second largest country and ninth biggest economy) the 51st state of America are, I presume, mischievous but nonetheless belittling to the Canadian people; the much more aggressive claims on Greenland are scary. If America were to succeed in these two aims it would be the biggest example of expansionism the modern world has seen, and the thought of Russia and China just smiling it through is absurd: maybe Taiwan and Finland are the price we have to pay for tit-for-tat acquisition. Anyone familiar with George Orwell’s ‘1984’ understands the terror of a world totally dominated by three permanently feuding superpowers, Oceania, Eurasia and Eastasia. Presumably Mr Trump has not read it – I’m not sure if it has ever been published as a picture book.
I’m pretty certain however that as the 51st state, Canada would be entitled to sufficient electoral college votes to ensure that Charles Aznavour would have a better chance of a third term than Donald Trump (I would have said Marcel Marceau, but he’s still trying to fight his way out of that damned invisible box) and presumably Greenland would – as the largest island in the world – have aspirations to elevate itself above 52nd state and would seek to leapfrog Hawaii. No matter, the UK’s position as America’s lapdog, willing to snarl on demand, will be unaffected.
Most of us who have the privilege of living in a democracy know the dilemma of choosing to vote for the least worst option: it is how democracy works, but of late, the ‘me first’ culture has become the dominant ideology throughout the democratic world soon, I fear, to be superseded by ‘me alone’. We live on a planet where the rich and powerful become ever richer and mightier, whilst the weak – particularly those with ‘natural resources’ – are subsumed. At least we will all be able to visit Donald’s Gazan Riviera, just as soon as he has managed to deposit all of those pesky Palestinian people (I refer to the ‘you and I’ type people, of whom there are millions, and not the Hamas idiots whom I hope will have a special place in hell reserved for them for what they did on just that one day). At least there should be no shortage of bunkers on the golf course.
I am the world’s weakest swimmer, but I regularly go to a local wrinklies swim session*: no lanes, just plod up and down at your own pace trying, where possible, to avoid the small eddies of suspiciously warm water. Some of the stronger swimmers (always the ones with reflective swimming goggles so that you cannot see into their soul) defiantly swim in a straight line with no deviation for circumstance, leaving the weaker swimmers (except for, I must admit, the bloody-minded ones like myself) to zig-zag all over the pool for fear of getting in the way: travelling twice as far, but getting nowhere. In my internal little fantasy world, the weak get to swim in a straight line because it doesn’t matter to the strong, who should be the lifeguards and not the sharks. They do not make the sea a safer place by puncturing the wimpy kid’s lilo.
Now, I cannot pretend to understand the politics of America nor, if I’m honest, anywhere else (including the UK) but I would seriously like to think that many Americans did not want their country to become a Putin appeasing, ally-abandoning, economy strangling behemoth when they voted for Trump. They wanted someone to stand up for their own country – of course they did – but not to spit on the shoes of their allies. Everybody needs friends – even if they’re weak ones. Madness is all that thrives in isolation.
Everything contained in this piece is opinion. It is entirely my own, and many other opinions are both available and equally valid I am sure. Life is not about agreeing, but accepting…
As ever, when I write a piece like this, I have to publish it without too much pause for consideration, otherwise it would never appear. It’s a serious topic (and this is a very long post – I’m sorry) but humour is in my nature and I hope it doesn’t appear to be just too flippant. More to the point, I do not seek to upset or antagonise anyone. I know that I have very dear readers who have proudly voted for Trump and will have perfectly good and honest reasons for doing so (perhaps they still feel that the possible alternatives were worse) but the right to disagree without rancour is ingrained in my soul, and yes, I do remember when we elected the ethereally empathetic Margaret Thatcher (oddly for three terms) who made a concerted effort to drain the entire world of all compassion. The vagaries of our voting systems – our ‘first past the post’ and USA’s ‘electoral college’ – ensure that the government we get is seldom the government we voted for. It’s the price we have to pay for having a say. Harold Wilson – a former UK prime minister (twice) remembered by history as being inept with a capital Liz Truss – once said that 24 hours was a long time in politics. We have at the time of writing 1,310 extremely long days to come before the next presidential election, and then what I wonder? Maybe he’ll tell us on the morning news…
*I did. They closed the pool down this morning with no warning and many thousands of pounds of membership fees in their pockets.
Getting On 