Once, former Prime Ministers accepted an Earldom and faded gracefully into the twilight. Today, Number 10 seems merely a way station to a more lucrative and less accountable career of stepping and strutting on the world stage. The pioneer was Sir Tony Blair, who today commands an Institute whose collective brains and contacts manufacture solutions to the world’s problems. The imperial buccaneer Cecil Rhodes described the British Empire as philanthropy plus 5 percent. The Tony Blair Institute seems to be similarly philanthropic and no less globe-spanning.
Its latest project is to advise Donald Trump on the Middle East. Apparently, the Institute has been labouring for months on a plan for Gaza. Sir Tony did serve between 2007 and 2015 as Special Envoy to the Middle East on behalf of the “Quartet” (the USA, EU, UN and Russia), though without notable effect. But surely his real qualification for advising the White House – at least in the eyes of its present occupant – must be his enthusiastic support for American action in Iraq in 2003.
I am not among those who accuse Blair of war crimes. I accept that, by his own lights, he behaved honestly. But it is worth briefly recalling his share of responsibility for what became a human and political catastrophe. His period in office saw an unparalleled frequency of military action: five times in six years. Though Blair claimed the legacy of Gladstone, he was really the heir of Palmerston, with a similar combination of idealism and bombast. But he lacked Palmerston’s power, and fatally lacked his hard-headedness.
As early as November 1997 Blair said privately that Iraq was “very close to some appalling weapons of mass destruction.” He feared being booed in the streets as “the Stanley Baldwin who did nothing.” He was primed for action well before the Twin Towers atrocity in 2001, and thereafter encouraged the Americans to act forcefully in the Middle East.
He openly aimed to show America and the world that Britain was its closest and most reliable ally. This has been our main foreign policy objective for generations, and while understandable, if Britain’s own interests are subordinated it is costly, and when taken too far it is perilous. In this case, it was not even necessary: the Americans suggested that Britain might prefer to keep its troops out of the invasion of Iraq. But Blair insisted on full British participation.
He was hugely confident in his own judgement. Whether or not his policy was criminal, it was certainly high-handed and reckless. Decisions were made in daily phone calls to Washington. The Foreign Office was bypassed, and its legal advice given short shrift. The Cabinet Defence and Overseas Policy Committee and its Intelligence Committee never even met. Blair coolly told the Chilcot Inquiry that his Cabinet must have known what was going on from reading the newspapers.
I remember supporting the invasion of Iraq in 2003. I naively told sceptical friends that it was not possible that a British Prime Minister would take the nation to war without being certain it was necessary. Yet Blair was not certain, and he knew it. Aided and abetted by Alastair Campbell, he exaggerated the evidence of Iraqi weapons of mass destruction. The journalist Andrew Rawnsley, not unsympathetic to Blair, wrote in a detailed examination of the episode that “Blair was a sincere deceiver. He told the truth about what he believed; he lied about the strength of the evidence for that belief.” He deceived the country, and even, it seems, the Americans.
This failure of judgment contributed to catastrophic consequences in the Middle East. It left Britain more exposed to terrorism. The British Army was committed to unwinnable campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan for which it had neither the numbers nor the equipment. Soldiers died due to lack of armoured vehicles and helicopters. The outcome recalls the worst defeats of the days of empire, in blood, treasure (costing every British family several thousand pounds) and reputation.
And now Sir Tony Blair is to advise Donald Trump on how to heal the open sore of Gaza. Why would Trump listen, given Blair’s past misjudgements? Of course, he might not. But he does lap up obsequiousness as a tomcat laps up cream, and Blair has a record of applauding what the White House decides. Otherwise, it would be like requesting Lord North to advise on How to Win Friends and Influence People, or inviting Neville Chamberlain to expound The Art of the Deal.
Once, former Prime Ministers accepted an Earldom and faded gracefully into the twilight. Today, Number 10 seems merely a way station to a more lucrative and less accountable career of stepping and strutting on the world stage. The pioneer was Sir Tony Blair, who today commands an Institute whose collective brains and contacts manufacture solutions to the world’s problems. The imperial buccaneer Cecil Rhodes described the British Empire as philanthropy plus 5 percent. The Tony Blair Institute seems to be similarly philanthropic and no less globe-spanning.
Its latest project is to advise Donald Trump on the Middle East. Apparently, the Institute has been labouring for months on a plan for Gaza. Sir Tony did serve between 2007 and 2015 as Special Envoy to the Middle East on behalf of the “Quartet” (the USA, EU, UN and Russia), though without notable effect. But surely his real qualification for advising the White House – at least in the eyes of its present occupant – must be his enthusiastic support for American action in Iraq in 2003.
I am not among those who accuse Blair of war crimes. I accept that, by his own lights, he behaved honestly. But it is worth briefly recalling his share of responsibility for what became a human and political catastrophe. His period in office saw an unparalleled frequency of military action: five times in six years. Though Blair claimed the legacy of Gladstone, he was really the heir of Palmerston, with a similar combination of idealism and bombast. But he lacked Palmerston’s power, and fatally lacked his hard-headedness.
As early as November 1997 Blair said privately that Iraq was “very close to some appalling weapons of mass destruction.” He feared being booed in the streets as “the Stanley Baldwin who did nothing.” He was primed for action well before the Twin Towers atrocity in 2001, and thereafter encouraged the Americans to act forcefully in the Middle East.
He openly aimed to show America and the world that Britain was its closest and most reliable ally. This has been our main foreign policy objective for generations, and while understandable, if Britain’s own interests are subordinated it is costly, and when taken too far it is perilous. In this case, it was not even necessary: the Americans suggested that Britain might prefer to keep its troops out of the invasion of Iraq. But Blair insisted on full British participation.
He was hugely confident in his own judgement. Whether or not his policy was criminal, it was certainly high-handed and reckless. Decisions were made in daily phone calls to Washington. The Foreign Office was bypassed, and its legal advice given short shrift. The Cabinet Defence and Overseas Policy Committee and its Intelligence Committee never even met. Blair coolly told the Chilcot Inquiry that his Cabinet must have known what was going on from reading the newspapers.
I remember supporting the invasion of Iraq in 2003. I naively told sceptical friends that it was not possible that a British Prime Minister would take the nation to war without being certain it was necessary. Yet Blair was not certain, and he knew it. Aided and abetted by Alastair Campbell, he exaggerated the evidence of Iraqi weapons of mass destruction. The journalist Andrew Rawnsley, not unsympathetic to Blair, wrote in a detailed examination of the episode that “Blair was a sincere deceiver. He told the truth about what he believed; he lied about the strength of the evidence for that belief.” He deceived the country, and even, it seems, the Americans.
This failure of judgment contributed to catastrophic consequences in the Middle East. It left Britain more exposed to terrorism. The British Army was committed to unwinnable campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan for which it had neither the numbers nor the equipment. Soldiers died due to lack of armoured vehicles and helicopters. The outcome recalls the worst defeats of the days of empire, in blood, treasure (costing every British family several thousand pounds) and reputation.
And now Sir Tony Blair is to advise Donald Trump on how to heal the open sore of Gaza. Why would Trump listen, given Blair’s past misjudgements? Of course, he might not. But he does lap up obsequiousness as a tomcat laps up cream, and Blair has a record of applauding what the White House decides. Otherwise, it would be like requesting Lord North to advise on How to Win Friends and Influence People, or inviting Neville Chamberlain to expound The Art of the Deal.