Did the UK Make the Right Decision on Iran?

Early last week, the United Kingdom (UK) government was sent a request from the United States (US) through the most secure of channels. It landed on the Defence Secretary’s desk, who elevated it to Downing Street, who then deferred to the office of the Attorney General, Lord Richard Hermer.

Hermer is unelected. He is also a marshal within the left-wing, human-rights law complex; some argue that he is the real power centre insofar as the UK’s image abroad is concerned – how it is projected, maintained, and most importantly, how it needs to change.

The US requested permission from the UK to use some of its military bases, notably, the Diego Garcia base located in the Chagos Archipelago, to launch strikes on Iran. Along with another former colleague of Keir Starmer’s, Hermer is said to have been central to the decision to hand Mauritius these islands, and pay the country handsomely for the privilege of doing so.

Here, Hermer would appear to be trapped in a brazen conflict of interest, but nonetheless drafted his legal opinion and delivered it to the Prime Minister’s desk. “The request is not consistent with international law, and thus should be denied.”

Reason

There is scope for reason, despite the circumstances.

The consequences of Tony Blair’s poodling-up to George W. Bush in 2003 exploited a culture of inquiries into a raging addiction. Between 2003 and 2016, no less than three significant inquiries traced the military intelligence, the responses these prompted, and legality of UK involvement in Iraq.

The first was the Hutton Inquiry, which investigated the death of chemical weapons expert Dr David Kelly, who was presumed to have committed suicide in a woodland near his house; central to this inquiry was the claim that Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein possessed weapons of mass destruction (WMDs) that could be deployed within three quarters of an hour. Tony Blair’s hostile director of communications, Alistair Campbell, was implicated in a plot to allegedly “sex up” the claims with the purpose of enabling an urgent response.

Campbell resigned the day after Blair appeared at the Hutton Inquiry, since seeking to redeem himself a liberal, centrist-dad podcaster, i.e., someone who gets extremely cross when someone else offers a marginally contrarian view.

The Hutton Inquiry was followed by the Butler Review, which addressed the veracity of the intelligence claims. Despite the fact that multiple flaws were discovered, no officials were held accountable. For many, the Butler Review was a sham, and possibly one of the points in UK political history where lying to Parliament mainstreamed.

The Chilcot Inquiry was the big one. Running from 2009 to 2016, this inquiry examined the UK’s Iraq policy over a decade.  It took seven years for Sir John Chilcot to present his findings, concluding that the UK’s approach was unacceptable, that poor decisions up and down the chain of command, from Blair’s office to the Foreign Office and Department of Defence, had been made on shaky ground.

But as ever, despite the findings, despite Blair’s grovelling apology – almost a decade after he exited Downing Street – there were no consequences.

It would be unwise to underestimate the effect of the “no consequences” bit on a national psyche, particularly relevant when examining today’s broken social contract and the exhaustion of the electorate with, among others, the upward failure of the uniparty political establishment. Perhaps Hermer knows this, that contained in the emphasis of “international law” were actually traces of dread – a fear of repeating the events between 2003 and 2016.

Repetition

But you can’t repeat something if you’ve got nothing to repeat it with. Compounding the turmoil “international law” sparks in the heads of the UK’s armies of lawyers is a much more pressing reality: the state of the UK military.

For reasons located possibly on the lips of heavily medicated lunatics occupying padded cells, David Cameron began reducing the size of the UK armed forces – “trade strength personnel” – shortly after entering Downing Street, perhaps worrying in a way leaders of the likes of Guinea-Bissau do. Between 2010 and the present, trade strength personnel have been cut by 31%, from 102 000 to 70 000, with promises of future cuts attached to unwillingness from Keir Starmer to protect UK veterans of Northern Ireland’s Troubles from vexatious prosecutions.

Insofar as fighting gear is concerned – the ships that were once supposed to have ruled the waves are out of puff. Major backlogs in servicing and maintenance, coupled to budget constraints, have weakened operational readiness. Morale within the navy is reported to be worryingly low, with the extreme lengths of deployment identified as the primary factor.

On Sunday Starmer, having initially denied the Americans the use of its military bases, went all volte-face. Apparently, the circumstances had altered, and now defensive purposes were necessary. But only defensive purposes, as these align to “international law”.

Belligerence

Hermer is a belligerent customer. Last year in a speech he compared critics of “law” – i.e., those predisposed to individualism – to “Nazi-era thinking”. He was urged to apologise, but refused, instead – through gritted teeth – dismissed his own remarks as “a little clumsy”. The risks of appointing people like this to influential positions are self-evident.

But the question of whether or not the UK made the right decision when it refused the US access is both no and yes – in that order. No, given the UK’s weight of military reliance upon the US, no, given the state of the special relationship, no, because the decision to hand the Chagos Archipelago to Mauritius was fundamentally flawed, a profound insult to the island’s rightful owners, and an expression of just how contaminated academic, social justice grievance logic is.

But yes too. Yes, because the UK can’t abide another decade of inquiries that conclude with zero political consequences – to say nothing of criminal ones. Yes, because the stripping of the armed forces – personnel, gear, budgets, and confidence – has left it not just vulnerable, but scared of its own shadow. Under the conditions of the UK at present, Richard Hermer did the best he could – the right decision – even if that “right decision” is absolute garbage.