Donald Trump’s remarks on Afghanistan were blunt, poorly timed, and frankly a misfire, but then he redeemed himself magnificently.
By suggesting Britain and other Nato allies “stayed a little back, a little off the front lines” while America carried the burden, he overlooked the grim reality: 457 British service personnel killed in a conflict where UK forces led NATO operations in Helmand’s unforgiving terrain from 2006.
The repatriations through Wootton Bassett were not mere statistics; they were symbols of profound national sacrifice. Starmer’s demand for an apology was understandable, even if his outrage served as a convenient distraction from Labour’s own failings.
Yet politics is not judged on tact or sensitivity—it is measured by outcomes: sovereignty preserved, security strengthened, blunders averted.
On this score, Trump’s intervention over the Chagos Islands has delivered where Starmer failed spectacularly. The president’s January 20 Truth Social post was devastatingly precise: “Shockingly, our ‘brilliant’ NATO Ally, the United Kingdom, is currently planning to give away the Island of Diego Garcia, the site of a vital U.S. Military Base, to Mauritius, and to do so FOR NO REASON WHATSOEVER. There is no doubt that China and Russia have noticed this act of total weakness… The UK giving away extremely important land is an act of GREAT STUPIDITY.”
Those words were not bluster. They were a clarion call that forced reality upon a government blinded by its own ideology. Starmer’s Chagos deal—ceding sovereignty to Mauritius while leasing back Diego Garcia for 99 years at an average £101 million annually (with critics estimating the long-term taxpayer cost in the tens of billions) — was never pragmatic realism.
It was an act of grotesque self-harm; surrender dressed as virtue: bowing to a non-binding ICJ advisory opinion, risking breach of the 1966 UK-US treaty that explicitly affirms British sovereignty, and handing leverage to a regime with troubling ties to Beijing.
Keir Starmer must be praying Afghanistan distracts from the quiet defeat of his plan for national self-harm - Lee Cohen
|PA
Diego Garcia is no peripheral outpost. It underpins joint UK-US operations across the Indo-Pacific and Middle East — rapid strikes against Houthi threats, intelligence dominance, and deterrence against Chinese expansion.
A lease, however long, is not ownership. Mauritius could one day renege, invite “malign influence”, or simply demand more.
Starmer’s justification — protecting the base from legal challenge — ignored the obvious: yielding sovereignty invites endless challenges, from the Falklands to Gibraltar.
This was not bold decolonisation; it was self-inflicted weakening, prioritising fleeting international approval over enduring British strength.
Trump saw the peril immediately and acted without hesitation. His reversal from earlier administration support did not stem from inconsistency but strategic clarity: allies who casually discard their own assets become unreliable partners.
By publicly branding the deal “GREAT STUPIDITY,” he shifted the entire dynamic. The legislation, which had scraped through the Commons, faced mounting resistance in the Lords.
Conservative peers tabled motions highlighting treaty violations; scrutiny intensified. On Friday night, the government pulled the bill from its scheduled Monday debate—Starmer’s humiliating climbdown, credited by opposition figures to Trump’s pressure.
Kemi Badenoch called it “complete self-sabotage” and declared Trump “right”; Priti Patel demanded the “shameful treaty” be scrapped; Nigel Farage thanked the president for vetoing the surrender.
Starmer’s earlier lectures about “respect and partnership” over Greenland now ring hollow — exposed as posturing from a leader who folded the moment Washington exerted resolve.
Britain must face this uncomfortable truth: President Trump proved a more steadfast guardian of British interests than its own prime minister.
He reinforced a treaty Starmer undermined, secured a base Starmer gambled away, and treated sovereignty as an asset worth defending rather than a burden to shed.
Leadership is defined by results that endure, not by diplomatic niceties. Chagos remains under British control — for now. Diego Garcia stays operational and secure. A dangerous precedent has been shattered.
History will record that Trump absorbed criticism for candour yet delivered salvation from strategic folly. Britain owes him straightforward gratitude: an ally who bridged the Atlantic to protect what truly matters.
Starmer, by contrast, merits opprobrium as the prime minister who nearly bartered away vital national interests — only to be reined in by superior will from across the pond.
Trump succeeded where Starmer floundered, proving once again his resolve to defend the West — even when its own leaders will not.