It makes a pleasant change. Not so long ago, Keir Starmer was falling over himself in his efforts to keep things sweet with Donald Trump. Offering the US president a second state visit within minutes of meeting him. Everyone knows you should never put out on the first date: it only makes the other person think you’re a pushover. Sure enough, The Donald banked the marching bands and the Windsor silver service, made polite conversation for three days and then went back to trash-talking him.
Yet still, Starmer just sat there and took it. As if one word of criticism would be too much. Wittering on about the “special relationship” as if Trump gave a moment’s thought to the UK before he did anything. The rest of us wouldn’t have put money on the US president even being able to locate Britain on a map. It was only latterly, when The Donald chose to bomb Iran, that the penny finally dropped for Keir. And even then he looked pained by the apparent betrayal, as he resisted the calls of Kemi Badenoch and Nigel Farage to join in the war.
No such misgivings for Andy Burnham. This week, the prime minister was reminded that when he had been mayor of Greater Manchester, he had said The Donald wouldn’t be welcome in his city and that he could take his poisonous politics elsewhere. Words that had been loudly cheered at the time by many in Britain who had had enough of all the toadying. After all, it wasn’t as if the Trump-whispering had made any difference. If anything, it had only added to his contempt for us. You’ll never get any thanks from a narcissist.
Nor did Andy have any regrets now that he was prime minister and was likely to meet Trump in person for the first time at the UN general assembly in New York at the end of next month. Far from it. “Shit happens” was pretty much his precis of what had gone down. He wasn’t going to apologise to The Donald for what he had said. Not least because he had meant every word.
This was the real world. Politicians say stuff. Trump had said all sorts of things about him, too. That he had been mayor of “some town”. To be fair to Agent Orange, it’s quite likely he had never heard of Manchester before. Neither geography nor an interest in other people have ever been his strongest suits. All he had known about Andy was that he was “extremely liberal”. Which in Maga language is the same as saying he’s a “Commy bastard”.
So here was Burnham’s deal. He wasn’t planning to go out of his way to insult the US president, but neither would he be offering unexpurgated sycophancy. Instead, we would be getting a very British type of pragmatism. He would do what was necessary in the UK’s interest but not much more. They would be polite and try not to accentuate their differences, but there would be no pretence of any lasting friendship. Just stick to the matters in hand and get the hell out. After New York, Andy wouldn’t be sending weekly WhatsApps. Out of sight, out of mind.
Weirdly, this performative show of an ersatz friendship – the US and UK are meant to be more or less on the same side, after all – is likely to be far more effective than Keir’s more needy approach. Because this is the type of language The Donald understands. Although he craves the fawning, he has no respect for those who offer it. He takes it as a sign of weakness. Equally, no amount of flattery is ever enough. There is a hole in Trump’s psyche that can never be filled.
With Burnham, there is going to be more a meeting of equals. Two world leaders who are doing what it takes to get along with each other. It’s as close to respect as a sociopath like Trump can get. Andy hasn’t taken a backward step, or attempted to deny his previous comments. More that that was then and this was now. Just get used to it.
You can say one thing one day and the opposite the next. It’s up to the other person to work out which one was the truth. Or maybe neither, or maybe both. After all, that’s precisely what The Donald does. Contradiction is his modus operandi. And it’s got him to the White House. So if it works for Trump, why not for Burnham? Sincerity can be an overrated virtue for a world leader. You don’t always need a Love, Actually moment to make your feelings known.
“So I’m looking forward, actually, to my first meeting [with Trump],” said Andy. And he probably is. His cards are on the table and he has nothing to hide. Plus, he has a sense of humour and self-deprecation, which also might confuse the US president, who has neither.
It also feels as if there’s less at stake with this meeting than there was with many of Starmer’s. Back in the early days of Trump’s presidency, it was as if much of the world was holding its breath for what he might do next. Now, not so much. We’ve all learned to adapt to The Donald. Even to his never-ending war with Iran, which has jacked up the cost of living. All his bad habits are now priced in. And suddenly he looks more vulnerable. A man who has found the world doesn’t automatically bend to his will. A man who is under pressure on the domestic front, with many Americans fed up with his foreign wars and angry at the cost of petrol (never get between an American and their car). A president facing tricky midterm elections and in danger of becoming a lame duck.
For Burnham, it’s also the home front that is occupying most of his attention. Good vibes are a decent start, but sooner or later he has to do something different to Starmer while boxing himself in with the same fiscal rules. So who knows? The meeting between Andy and The Donald may be less tricky than first imagined. A welcome distraction for both of them.
