As the Prime Minister prepares for a crucial sit down with the Tango Tyrant, Fleet Street Fox has some advice on how to deal with tricky customers
About a thousand years ago, a newspaper editor asked me how, exactly, being a pub waitress would be of use in journalism. “I’ve learned how to deal with people who are drunk, grieving, delighted, arguing, or letting their children run riot,” I said. “And I can handle temperamental chefs armed with knives.” He laughed and I got the job, where I swiftly learned that in journalism the only difference is the weapons you face usually include colleagues with a bitchin’ hangover and a vengeful streak.
Any lingering hubris evaporated after becoming a parent, and realising I was in an arms race with a manipulative narcissist who doesn’t believe the slave trade ended. And if there is one thing that decades of dealing with all those tantrums and drama has taught, it is that when Keir Starmer meets Donald Trump in Washington DC today, every bit of his careful preparation could go out the window on the whim of an Oval Office Oompah Loompah with the emotional stability and foresight of a three-year-old.
Earlier this week, French president Emmanuel Macron was first to put his head above the parapet. He combined Gallic charm with overt masculinity and the occasional slapdown. He called him “dear Donald”, he corrected his misinformation in real-time, and he spread his legs so far apart he looked like he was about to give birth. Eau d’homme , as the perfume ad might say, and a sweaty, hairy homme with trop grand plums, at that.
That won’t work for Starmer. A country and a party revolted by Theresa May holding the beast’s hand would simply never let him back in if he backslapped and giggled; besides, if Starmer tried manspreading it would just look like he had a prostate problem. Instead, armed with a few words of advice from Macron and aware of the need to leave a level landing strip for Ukrainian president Volodomyr Zelenskyy who will be next to visit, the PM will have to use strategy.
1. There’s only one language a bully understands
The best way to deal with a dictator – so many of them get elected first, have you noticed? – is to earn their respect. And the only way to extract that from Trump is to be the fight he would lose. This is when Starmer needs to be David vs Goliath, plucky Britain on the front line, emphasising intelligence, tactics, and the sort of ruthless chicanery that meant Sid James always came out on top in the Carry On films. Germany is asking for the defence of Britain’s nuclear weapons, the EU is pushing for closer ties, and Trump’s domestic policies are starting to stumble as courts overturn his instructions and the budget looks rocky. If Starmer can bring with him the rest of the playground, Trump will reluctantly fall into line. You don’t need to ban a badly-behaving drinker from the bar – you merely need to make them seem unimportant. Trump cannot be disciplined, but he can become irrelevant, and that is his greatest fear.
2. There’s one treat every toddler wants
In a pub restaurant when things get sticky, you bring out the pudding menu. When knocking on a door, you offer the chance to pay tribute to a loved one, or to control the narrative. And with every toddler, the last resort is naked bribery. Trump wants to make deals and look important. The deal doesn’t even have to be that good. Ukraine’s mineral reserves are Soviet-era estimates that may be expensive to extract and difficult to monetise, particularly if the US government pays third-party contractors and mercenaries to protect them. Of 20,000 surveyed sites, only 8,000 are thought to be viable, and it could cost billions to get them online.
Yet Trump is desperate to snap up ownership and declare he’s getting back the US taxpayer’s money given in support of the war. If Zelenskyy has any sense – and he seems to have an abundance – he’ll offer Donny the duds and keep the aces for himself. Starmer can broker the deal, offer the extra defence spending he’s already announced, then sweeten it by throwing in some changes on the Chagos Islands agreement which will guarantee the US can manspread all the way to the Indian Ocean. Top it off with a visit to Balmoral and Trump will be eating out of his hand. Be a good boy, Donald, and you’ll be king of the world.
3. Hold the line
The above transactions are only possible if they’re palatable at home and abroad. Trump needs to look like the boss for his base, and Starmer needs to look like the voice of reason for his: the calming influence that makes it all a bit more bearable for the Brits. In general we are pro-Ukraine and anti-Trump, pro standing up to invaders and very much for rolling our eyes at the Obnoxious Yanks. And if Starmer was elected for just one thing, it was to Not Be That Guy – to not be the rule-breaker, not be the billionaire, not let party ideology decide the direction of an entire country.
And so he must Not Be Trump. Stand up to him. Say no. Don’t bend or laugh it off. History is going to judge Trump as the president who destroyed the Constitution, wrecked the economy, offered tax cuts he couldn’t fund and let an unelected, drug-addled twonkadonk run riot through the American computer system. When dealing with a a Sunny Delight-full Donald, one must be clear, be firm, and stick to one rule that’s non-negotiable. BE A PARENT, KEIR.
Trump has a skin made of porcelain, the skittish sensitivity of a man with an untreated dental cavity, and the sort of tactical brilliance which make mayflies look like they have a long-term plan. He demands to be treated gently but respects only a refusal to do so. The trick, therefore, is to never give in. Never surrender. Because if we’re not the good guys, there’s nothing else left.
As it is in pubs and in print, so it is in politics. And for gawd’s sake, don’t hold his hand.
