Gentlemen's agreements

As I write, the country waits with baited breath to see whether Mr Johnson will resign as prime minister.

Having survived a rushed no confidence vote with a 59% majority a month ago, in the wake of a scandal over blatant dishonesty and hypocrisy denying first the occurrence of, then his own knowledge of, and finally basic understanding of staff parties in his own office, spread over two years of heavy lockdown restrictions emanating from that same office, Johnson is currently continuing to cling to power after 24 hours in which over 30 ministers have resigned, led by the health secretary (leaving a Johnson cabinet position for the second time) and the chancellor (Johnson's second in under three years).

It is clearly impossible for Johnson to continue to lead a parliamentary party that has so utterly lost faith in him. Given his proven lack of ability to achieve anything meaningful - or even plans to attempt to do so - there is no credible explanation for hanging on, other than that Johnson is in government for entirely self-serving reasons.

The unlikely parallel I wished to briefly draw is with Johnson's 2019 contender for the premiership, Jeremy Corbyn. Corbyn also clung to power long after having lost the support of the parliamentary Labour party, with the encouragement of his core supporters.

It seems on the whole likely that Corbyn, at least, genuinely believed in his socialist mission and that he was the only person who could deliver it. Whether Johnson believes in anything so much of the glory of his own personal destiny is far from clear - has never been clear, for those who were paying attention.

Yet the behaviour is similar. The UK's lack of a written constitution, and dependence on what might be termed the gentleman's agreement mode of government, leaves it particularly vulnerable to people who do not care about traditional or conventional decency. In Corbyn's case, that stemmed from traditional leftist anti-establishment feeling; in Johnson's, it is a libertarian bent, combined with a deep-seated narcissism.

The attitude places both men in the same camp with Donald Trump. Placing their own personal prestige above decency, basic fairness, or even democracy, they plod on as long as they possibly can until they are finally forced out.

This increasingly common attitude among political leaders has no purpose, and no dignity - and is rapidly undermining Western civilisation. If "conservative" means anything at all, we should be recognising this problem and restoring traditional standards of basic decency.

The Unexpected

 As I write, Russia is about seven days into its invasion of Ukraine - a venture that, until seven days ago, most people thought could not possibly happen. They tied themselves in knots trying to explain away the build-up of tens of thousands of Russian troops all the way along Ukraine's northern and eastern borders. War? In Europe? It couldn't happen.

Of course at present we have little idea what will actually happen. The Ukrainians have put up an incredibly brave and determined defence, and the Western newspapers are delighted. Unprecedentedly severe sanctions have already brought the Russian currency and economy to their knees.

The problem is: whether Russia achieves or misses its objectives in Ukraine, whatever those may be - where on earth do we go from here?

Do not forget that, on paper, Russia has enormous military superiority over Ukraine - and an itchy nuclear trigger-finger that makes any counterattack impossible. Even if Ukraine inflicts such heavy casualties on the Russians that they are forced to fully retreat - an extremely optimistic contingency - it cannot press its advantage by taking to the offensive, as Putin would almost certainly obliterate it. I assume here that Putin would rather start a nuclear war, than give up power, leave office of his own free will, admit defeat, and accept that he stirred up a war in which there could never be a victor, and apologise to Ukraine.

 It also defies credibility that there is a path to lasting peace for Ukraine while that particular reactionary tyrant remains in power - no matter whether or not Russia "wins" the war against its closest cousin. If Putin is in power and retreats, he will rebuild his strength and refuse to admit he started the war for purely irridentist ambitions. If Putin is in power and overthrows Ukraine, Ukraine will either be utterly oppressed under direct Russian rule, and/or be in a long-term state of armed uprising; or a puppet regime will be installed which will be vulnerable to extremely similar threats. Meanwhile it will become poorer and poorer, and consequently even more political unstable than it has been (remember the last revolution in Kiev was only in 2014).

And what of NATO and Europe? Russia has made barefaced threats against Finland and Sweden if they attempt to join NATO. Given how everyone has now seen Russia behaves towards countries that are not in NATO, these EU countries are now seriously considering that they may have no choice but to do so. Russia also now appears to have been granted indefinite leave to park its armies in Belarus. Although the Baltic states never enjoyed this condition anyway - there will now be effectively no buffer region between NATO and Russia's sphere of domination, at any point along the border.

Finally, let us consider - last but certainly not least - the US. The US underpins NATO and European security and there is little reason to believe Russia would hesitate for a moment from invading NATO countries if they were no backed up by the US. France and the UK may be nuclear powers, but their conventional forces are limited and, frankly, they do not have the habit of defending Europe from tyranny any more - and possibly not the stomach for a fight without US backing. We last saw what happened when major European military powers - who were very close to being evenly matched - went head to head in WW2. At the time, nobody had nukes.

The problem with the US is that, despite President Biden's remarkably clear and strong leadership, it does not really care about Europe any more. The US wants to pivot towards China, the real great power rival of the 21st century; the foresighted among them know it will take every ounce of Washington's energy, focus and guile to prevent China from supplanting them as the world's dominant power. And even then there would be no guarantee.

Biden could well be the last European-oriented US president. We should consider a real possibility that Donald Trump will be re-elected in 2024 - or some other smaller-minded, populist Republican following in his footsteps with an America First-style agenda, that cosies up to Putin and does not think twice and trampling international agreements and laws whenever it is expedient.

Europe needs to get its shit together. We have seen one or two promising signs that it is belatedly starting to take the deteriorating strategic picture more seriously, notably with Olaf Scholz's commitment to beef up Germany's military capabilities - long the elephant in the room in matters of European defence complacency.

But it will take more than that to present Putin with a compelling deterrent from attacking NATO when the US, inevitably, is forced to focus on China. Europe cannot afford to wait for the EU to work out how it wants to do military integration: France, Germany, Poland and the UK need to seriously integrate their defence capabilities now. The smaller countries will follow. NATO's nuclear guarantee may be just about plugging the strategic gaps for now, but the risk of the US pulling the plug on it in two, six or ten years time is not going to go away. NATO was built for the last century. Peaceful, democratic Europe cannot afford to wait for it to fail before it starts thinking about how to credibly protect itself from an erratic, authoritarian, militarist Russia.

The West

In the final installment of Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings film trilogy, which hit the big screen in 2003, at the climactic battle against the satanic forces of Mordor, Aragorn, leader of the Free Peoples, gives an inspiring speech to his allied forces:

"By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!"

This phrase - "Men of the West" - and the rather blatant real-world geopolitical resonance which lies behind it, was not in Tolkien's original 1955 novel. It is very much a product of the culture of "the Western world" of the early '00s, the very heart of that rosy interbellum period: that progressive, capitalist hubris, following the end of the Cold War but before the 2008 shock, when the future was clearly the Third Way and by and most of the world seemed to be on the same page about what was what.

It feels terribly quaint now.

"The West" is over. There is no more Western bloc, no united front. Turkey makes a mockery of NATO by linking a WW1 victory against the UK to Islamophobic terrorism in New Zealand, while Italy cosies up to China and the US threatens trade war with the EU generally. The UK's vote to leave the EU, while doubtless in part symptomatic of the same malaise, pales in contrast: thus far it has by and large been managed in a traditional, broadly amicable manner, despite the deep-seated mistrust, resentment and self-interest on both sides.

Of course, as I write, March 29th is only around the corner and there is still no deal on the table that Parliament is able to support. The EU/UK relationship has already changed dramatically and may do so again. There is no guarantee that my own country will continue to behave like a grown-up once Theresa May is finally forced to step down, and the recession that it would undoubtedly provoke in the eurozone (as well as the UK, most likely) is hardly likely to incline continental leaders to continue extending their patience, never mind hold themselves to a higher standard.

It is very easy to bash Donald Trump in Europe. Unlike in the US, on the more liberal, social-democratic side of the Atlantic, at least in the wealthier countries, support for the current president has always been the preserve of a small minority. Blaming him for the disintegration of the West is unlikely to be a contentious position.

Nevertheless, while Brexit was a noticeable tear in the fabric of the Western bloc's cohesion, the election of Donald Trump slashed open the seam. The rhetoric of friendship and alliance evaporated almost overnight. Trump makes no secret of his disdain for the EU, even recently describing the organisation as an enemy of the US. One senses that European leaders can scarcely hold their tongues when the president simultaneously demands they take his word for it that Huawei cannot be trusted with national infrastructure because China are the baddies, and threatens to close the US market to European automotive industry.

We have all but forgotten, amidst our petty, grasping squabbles, that there remain far more significant threats. Nobody has time any more for the South China Sea, or to prioritise political engagement with rapidly developing powers in the southern hemisphere, notably India and Nigeria. That Assad remains in control of Syria, and Russia continues to illegally occupy the Crimean peninsular, have fallen entirely off the agenda.

At the worst possible moment, just when we least could afford to present such a cacophonous and obvious show of disunity, we have deliberately and ignorantly chosen to forsake our friends, and break all bonds of fellowship. The world of Men will fall, and all will come to darkness - and my city to ruin.

There was a time not so very long ago when the West was the civilisation which everyone else wanted to be. It was synonymous with wealth, prosperity, success. Now we are the gaunt shadow of our former self. A mockery, a pale imitation of our former stature.

That is the measure of our decline.

Not that there is even a "we" any more.

Broken Dreams

In 2011, a cohort of 16-21 year olds were asked what their dream job would be. Six years later, only 1 in 50 of them were in it.

I was 16 years old in 2011. At that age, my careers' advice amounted to: go to university, study what you want, you'll be fine.

That was more or less it.

Curiously enough, it was around that year of my life that I was starting to consider certain practicalities. I knew we had endured three years of recession and austerity was starting to bite. I had been interested in classics, archaeology and Celtic studies for several years, but those weren't the only things I cared about. I was having second thoughts about studying them and directing myself to become an academic; I liked the subjects, but I wasn't sure I was that committed. I wanted to do something more tangibly real, more clearly connected with the pressing concerns of the day. I mentioned to several people that perhaps I ought to do geography instead.

Nobody engaged. It was as though the teachers I spoke to could not comprehend this level of pragmatism -  as if it was totally irrelevant. Everyone just told me - do what you love.

From an early age, I was taught to follow my dreams. This irresponsible, hubristic advice followed me through school and university and I never once worked out what was actually possible in the real world.

Trying to get a grown-up job, whether after finishing school or finishing university, is a brutal awakening for my generation. We were raised to believe it was easy. It is not. In fact there are nowhere near enough interesting - never mind fulfilling - jobs to go around.

This should have been obvious. Someone should have told us before.

But no one could bear to tell their children that they had brought them forth into a world with far less opportunity than the one before. Because they could not bear to admit it to themselves.

Between 1990 and 2007, the UK economy almost tripled in size from $1 to $2.8tn.

By 2018, it still has not climbed over $3tn.

The result was that I was raised by a generation who barely remembered the economic hardships of the 70s, dimly blamed Thatcher for the 80s - and believed all that firmly belonged to the past. They took property-ownership for granted and stumbled into prosperity by accident.

It was a kind of hubris: it was the myth of progress. In the West, we have generally believed that humanity moves ever forwards through time and on to better things: the future is morally superior - and it is flush with cash.

The whimsical, short-sighted, hippie careers advice my generation received is entirely a product of this complacent way of thinking. Our expectations - the aspirations we were told were perfectly realistic - the disgusting lie that you can be anything you want to be if you put your mind to it... we found our beliefs about what we could do and be in our lives in stark opposition to reality.

We are a generation raised to believe we would all be princes, only to find, at the last minute, that only a tiny fraction will ever have the life we thought nearly all of us would; the rest of us are to be slaves, or starve.

Then they wonder why we are all so depressed and anxious. The level of support for Jeremy Corbyn among my generation may be considered another widespread mental health condition brought on by this crisis - of abject disappointment, despair and humiliation.

Causation and grand narratives

"Populism is the true legacy of the global financial crisis", FT.com 30/08/18 < https://www.ft.com/content/687c0184-aaa6-11e8-94bd-cba20d67390c >

This whole narrative is simplistic and under-theorised. The attribution of cause and effect is not necessarily incorrect but it is built on very shaky foundations.

Generally attributing causation is a very dubious historical exercise. This example is a completely processualist model of supra-regional historical change - so its theoretical basis is open to all the criticisms of every other processualist approach.

I suggest Trump and brexit have as much to do with culture wars as with economics. Were those caused by the crash? I rather think there were quite a lot of people who felt that their sincerely-held views were being silenced by political correctness beforehand; I distinctly remember school-friends talking about how Muslim immigrants were stealing people's jobs back in 2006.

In democracies, the percentage shift of opinion does not have to be very big to get a different bunch of people elected - so we might be justified in talking about much less headline-grabbing factors than instantly looking to grand-scale systemic events like the financial crisis.

Try getting someone with a relevant degree to do (or at least review) your sweeping historical narratives before you publish, you'll end up with a more rigorous product. I don't know about the rest of your readership but academic excellence is one of the reasons I take the FT.

Headline: "Trump wants G7 to readmit Russia"

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-44409775

If the entire rest of the G7 can't block this idiot, then all of those nations, including mine, are good for nothing on the world stage, and multilateralism is a joke.

If Trump insists, then Germany, France, Canada, Japan and the UK must all make it crystal clear that they will walk out. PM May's optimistic, non-confrontational placating tactics must go: she must side with civilisation, the condemnation of Russia's annexation of another sovereign state's territory, and its continuing flagrant covert attacks on other nations - not least, and extremely recently, her own.

If Trump's insistence would reduce the G7/G8 to a cold-war-hotline-style Russia-US forum - with Italy as a sidekick, as if that mattered - then even if he presses ahead he will have achieved nothing.

Of course, Putin may have no interest in rejoining anyway, in which case the international relations flashpoint will be kicked into the long grass again - for another month or so, perhaps.

Flashpoint

Ten days ago, former Russian intelligence officer and UK double agent Sergei Skripal, along with his daughter Yulia, were poisoned in Salisbury with a "novichok" nerve agent. The British government, initially cautious in ascribing blame, is now confident that this was a state-sanctioned attempted assassination by Russia.

According to the British press, the intended victim(s) remain in a critical condition in hospital. I suspect this may not be the case - one must assume we are dealing with a highly-sensitive intelligence operation - and I have no doubt that that possibility has already occurred to Russia. They may in fact have been dead for some days, but the British government does not want Russia to know it; naturally, the UK would not want Russia to know how much the UK knows about what the intended victims know about the attack. Alternatively, they may have mostly recovered and be on their way into deep cover - one might expect they will shortly be pronounced dead, if that is the case. With any luck, neither we nor Russia will ever know for sure.

At the risk of appearing callous, one must admit the whole story is tremendously exciting. Sixty-odd years since their invention, the phrase "nerve agent" still sounds exhilaratingly sci-fi; more the instrument of a cipher agent of the Old Sith Empire than a real country - if you will excuse the reference. The secrecy, uncertainty and high stakes combine into a thrilling real-life crime drama.

Of course, unlike a computer game or a television episode, here there is a real menace underlying the adrenaline.



Today, the UK announced its response. We will be expelling a couple of dozen diplomats (Russia has already announced a tit-for-tat response), and closing down diplomatic channels. There are also an unknown number of undisclosable, presumably covert measures being taken.

Let us assume that British intelligence's ascription of blame is correct: in other words, we assume they have ruled out the possibility of an elaborate frame-up (they no doubt do have access to additional information which will not and should not be made public for decades); and we also assume that they are not lying to the government or the public for their own ends. For what it is worth, for all her faults I do not believe that it is in the Prime Minister's character to lie to the British people on such a serious matter; nor that local police, counter-terrorism, and MI5 and/or the SIS are all committed to the same conspiracy to frame Russia. On this occasion, on the particular point of who is to blame, I believe that we may place our faith in the security services.

Whatever Britain's additional secret measures may be, it is clear that the PM's package does not go nearly far enough - it is no meaningful response at all. Alexei Navalny, the Russian anti-Putin resistance figurehead, seems to agree, suggesting in a tweet that it would have been better to target London-based Russian oligarchs - a popular suggestion in the UK too, judging from a cursory sample of comments made on social media.

A chemical weapon was used by an openly antagonistic nation on UK soil - the first time this has happened on NATO since its foundation - and all the PM does in response is revoke a few visas, switch off a few phones and pursue additional secret measures. The convening of the UN Security Council is a mildly more serious step, but is also certain to achieve nothing.

We require a much more severe and co-ordinated response, involving the most stringent punitive measures the West has ever delivered. Russia's flagrant disregard for national borders makes China's machinations in the South China Sea look positively respectable.


The truth is that Russia is not nearly as powerful as it likes to pretend. Despite having double Britain's population, its GDP is over 40% lower; it spends negligibly more than the UK on defence, but I think it is unlikely to be getting significantly better value for money. Russia has a lot of big bombs, a lot of natural resources, and it looks very impressive on the map, but our fears of Russia as a great power are vastly overblown: we are so used to thinking of Russia and the USA as global antagonists that we forget that Russia's power has dwindled to that of a major power, rather than a superpower, at best - much more on a par with the UK or France on their own, than with the US. Aside from continental Europe's dependence on Russian gas, Russia's reputation is by and large a conjuring trick, a hangover from the last century.

Co-ordinated international sanctions can be rallied, if we merely articulate to just how serious a violation of our sovereignty this latest is. The US and EU have already indicated their willingness to take this matter with the utmost seriousness; but I do not speak merely of our traditional allies. Donald Trump has demonstrated with North Korea how China can be prised away from its Cold War friends - imagine if we could persuade them, to condemn Russia's action. That would be a serious warning to Putin. Efforts should be invested. We must leverage whatever is left of our soft power to gain condemnation from major regional powers worldwide. At that point, words may start to bite.

If Russia really did try to poison its ex-agent and/or his daughter on British soil, it took a calculated risk. Our response must be sufficiently robust to demonstrate that their arithmetic was in error. The retaliatory measures announced today do not come anywhere near, and they make Britain look frankly pathetic.