The 2003 film Love Actually has a fictionalised and idealised version of British political spine through its Prime Minister, played by Hugh Grant. Loosely based on the “reformist” Labour Prime Minister, Tony Blair, the protagonist stands up to the visiting American President, who is a boorish, uncouth and lecherous man — the instinctive parallel to a certain American President is quite unmistakable. In it, the British Prime Minister famously corrects the American President by interjecting: “I fear that this has become a bad relationship. A relationship based on the President taking exactly what he wants and casually ignoring all those things that really matter to, er… Britain. We may be a small country, but we’re a great one too.” The triumphant scene of a British Prime Minister standing up to speak truth to a powerful nation across the proverbial “pond” captures the topical tensions then, between the American President (from Republican Party), George W. Bush, and the “New Labour” Party leader, Tony Blair. Twenty-two years after the cult romantic-comedy Love Actually came a surreal moment of a real time British Prime Minister (a “reformist” from the Labour Party), Sir Keir Starmer, standing up to an inelegant, discourteous and ill-bred President of the United States of America, Donald Trump (ironically from the Republican Party). The moment came when Mr Trump was on a four-day Scotland-centred semi-personal trip to his golf properties in Aberdeenshire and Turnberry. Given his polarising image, his visit was marked with protests in London, as also in Scotland, but that did not deter him from making his usual railing and controversial comments. From openly criticising Europe’s relatively more liberal immigration policies to expressing disdain towards environmentally-friendly wind turbine installations in Europe (insisting that it damaged wildlife and landscape) to self-glorification of his presidency, Mr Trump was at his uncivilised worst. Much like in the movie Love Actually, Mr Trump too remained more focused on the Prime Minister’s wife (on the “Tea Girl” in the movie) when he unwarrantedly swiped at Keir Starmer by left-handedly complimenting his wife, “By the way, your first lady… I would say first lady. She is a respected person all over the United States. I don’t know what he is doing, but she is very respected.” While Britain was not amused by President Trump’s sarcasm, it is the comment on a proud Briton, also the mayor of London, that typified Mr Trump’s ungraciousness. When asked if Mr Trump would be visiting London during his trip, Mr Trump confirmed the same, but added caustically and quite unnecessarily: “I’m not a fan of your mayor. I think he’s done a terrible job, the mayor of London. A nasty person.” Mr Trump’s target was the three-consecutive-time Member of Parliament and three-consecutive-time elected mayor of London, Sadiq Khan. Often described as the centre-left social democrat, Sadiq Khan, has been the poster boy of British diversity (of Pakistani parentage, originally from Lucknow), progressive assimilation and political maturity — Sadiq Khan is the exact opposite of Donald Trump in political template. Therefore, when Sir Keir Starmer jumped at the moment and intervened to correct Donald Trump by saying, “He’s a friend of mine, actually” — it was reminiscent of Love Actually as the British Prime Minister (in the film) took on himself to stand up for a fellow Briton and uphold basic respect. Keir Starmer would have known that Donald Trump is a thin-skinned bully who does not take “corrections” too well, yet he chose solidarity and national pride, albeit, with due diplomatic courtesy. Mr Trump’s mark was clearly personal and tantamount to character assassination, and not one borne of ideology or policy considerations. Britain’s internal politics (and intra-party dissonance, if any) were not allowed to be fodder, for a unhinged person like Mr Trump. By his immediate, unequivocal and unambiguous conduct, Keir Starmer upheld Sadiq Khan’s personal dignity and legitimacy in full public glare. It was a also a moment of diplomatic refinement in reciprocal reaction when the mayoral spokesperson clarified that Sadiq Khan would actually be, “delighted that President Trump wants to come to the greatest city in the world”, and added, for good measure: “He’d see how our diversity makes us stronger, not weaker; richer, not poorer.” The exchange harked back to multiple exchanges on each other’s politics since Mr Trump’s first term, where Mr Trump’s language always reflected a more personalised, insulting, and intimidatory tone, as compared to Sadiq Khan’s critiques. Attacking Sadiq Khan also sits well with Mr Trump’s own natural brand of exclusionary, nativist and supremacist politics, that have often embarrassed even his own partisan rank and file, occasionally. For all its historical wrongs, colonial perpetuations, and failures, as a nation and society, politics in Britain has evolved to a stage where it can afford a Prime Minister by the name of Rishi Sunak (that too, from the Conservative ranks), or the mayor of London with a name like Sadiq Khan (from the Labour Party). Whereas the regression and polarisation in American politics and the rhetoric are personified by Donald Trump, who regularly takes the same to new lows. It is, as Sadiq Khan had slammed Mr Trump years ago, in his first term, as a “sexist, homophobic, Islamophobic, racist” and had added: “He’s coming for me for my ethnicity and my religion, so it’s incredibly personal to me.” It was a prescient observant that would resonate amongst the many “diversities” in America even today, or for that matter in almost any other country. The writer is a retired lieutenant-general and a former lieutenant-governor of the Andaman and Nicobar Islands and Puducherry
Source link
