Opinion: In life, and therefore in politics, when things become difficult at home we tend to look at problems elsewhere, either for distraction or reassurance. In the UK, national debt has hit a new high, or low, the new Labour government is complaining that its Conservative predecessor concealed a massive hole in public finance, and everyone agrees it will be a monumental task to save an ailing NHS, enable large-scale house building and set the country on the path to growth and prosperity.
But none of those issues really animates the conversation of anyone but the most obsessive policy wonks. Instead, as the government struggles to avert the economic icebergs ahead, all eyes are on two far-off places, the United States and Israel (and its shadowland Palestine).
The way people speak in London about November’s American presidential election could easily lead you to believe that they have a vote to decide whether Kamala Harris or Donald Trump makes it to the White House. And similarly, there seems to be a widespread understanding that if the UK government condemns Israel forcefully enough, the war in Gaza will be swiftly brought to an end.
In both cases, near-total powerlessness to affect the actions of other countries is reimagined as decisive influence. It’s a kind of post-imperial delusion of grandeur, although, ironically, it’s often displayed most proudly by those who see themselves as “anti-imperialist”.
Take Gaza as an example.
In the recent election, the victorious Labour Party lost five seats to pro-Palestine independents, protesting at PM Keir Starmer’s stance on the war – he called for a ceasefire, but too late for his critics. What is seldom mentioned by anyone, including Starmer’s defenders, is that the UK has next to no leverage in Israel.
As is sometimes forgotten, Israel came into existence after the British gave up its Palestinian mandate in 1948, bombed out by Zionist terrorists or freedom fighters, depending on your perspective. It’s the British who were seen as colonisers by Israelis and Palestinians.
Protesters call here for the UK to stop supporting the Israeli military, as if that would have an impact.
The UK exports about £40 million (NZ$87 million) in arms (mostly spare parts) to Israel each year (just £18.2 million in 2023). Militarily speaking, that’s chickenfeed.
For context, the US spends almost $4 billion a year on military aid to Israel – that’s a hundred times more in aid than the UK’s military exports. Italy and Germany are much bigger arms traders with Israel, yet there remains this stubborn idea that the UK still holds sway 2000 miles away.
Of course, the UK government is free to show solidarity with embattled Gazans, just as UK citizens can express their preferences for the next US president. That’s perfectly acceptable gestural politics, as long as it’s understood that it doesn’t change a thing on the ground, or indeed may serve to have the opposite effect to the one desired.
By and large, no one enjoys being lectured to by foreigners. Even reasonable Americans, who recognise that Trump is a narcissistic sociopath, don’t necessarily appreciate having it pointed out to them by high-minded Europeans.
And even those many Israelis with severe reservations about the devastating military campaign in Gaza still believe the world was largely indifferent to the pogrom of October 7, and so are less inclined to listen to countries, like the UK, that have launched far more murderous wars in recent decades with far less provocation.
Still, with living standards continuing to drop, and a doctor’s appointment harder to find than a ticket to a Taylor Swift concert, there is righteous consolation to be found in two former colonies that we can’t quite believe don’t actually care about our opinion.
