Each night we wonder where we are. We sit in comfort watching death and destruction fall on thousands in Gaza and Ukraine. Each night we see buildings exploding, people screaming and children starving. Statesmen stand around and deplore. There is anxious talk of what next – another 9/11 perhaps, or a Cuba 1962? Or is it, as some say, a 1939 or 1914 moment? As for the one man with notional power over the world, Donald Trump, his pledge of an end to wars has proved futile – and a bonanza for defence industries everywhere.
Whenever someone cries that something must be done, I always ask by whom? Day after day, Britain’s Keir Starmer – when he isn’t battling domestic crises and scandals – rises in the Commons to announce that he is working towards a ceasefire. But he is not. He is talking about working. If Trump cannot stop the killing – and he patently cannot – how can Starmer possibly do so? He has taken eagerly to the rhetoric of statesmanship. A lingering legacy of empire is that Britons expect of their rulers a running commentary on world affairs, as in the prime minister yesterday on the killing of Charlie Kirk. I am not aware of Swedes or Italians expecting the same.
