At the outset of the Second World War, the Allies were desperate to have Americans fight alongside them. So, they enlisted Canadian M16 officer William Stephenson to help sway them, kicking off a large-scale, state-sponsored influence campaign. Author Henry Hemming joins The Agenda to discuss his book, “Agents of Influence: A British Campaign, a Canadian Spy, and the Secret Plot to Bring American into World War II.”
It’s the racism.
The British press has succeeded in its apparent project of hounding Meghan Markle, the Duchess of Sussex, out of Britain. The part it perhaps didn’t bargain for, however, is the loss of Prince Harry — a much loved Royal and a key part of the family’s global brand — along with her.
In a statement released this week, the couple said they want to “carve out a progressive new role” within the royal family and will “step back as ‘senior’ members, and work to become financially independent.”
If the media paid more attention to Britain’s communities of color, perhaps it would find the announcement far less surprising. With a new prime minister whose track record includes overtly racist statements, some of which would make even Donald Trump blush, a Brexit project linked to native nationalism and a desire to rid Britain of large numbers of immigrants, and an ever thickening loom of imperial nostalgia, many of us are also thinking about moving.
From the very first headline about her being
the racist treatment of Meghan has been impossible to ignore. Princess Michael of Kent wore an overtly racist brooch in the duchess’s company. A BBC host compared the couple’s newborn baby to a chimpanzee. Then there was the sublimely ludicrous suggestion that Meghan’s avocado consumption is responsible for mass murder, while her charity cookbook was portrayed as somehow helping terrorists.
Those who claim frequent attacks against the duchess have nothing to do with her race have a hard time explaining these attempts to link her with particularly racialized forms of crime — terrorism and gang activity — as well as the fact that she has been most venomously attacked for acts that attracted praise when other royals did them. Her decision to guest-edit British Vogue, for example, was roundly condemned by large parts of the British media, in stark contrast to Prince Charles’s two-time guest editorship of Country Life magazine, Prince Harry’s of a BBC program and Kate Middleton’s at Huffington Post, all of which were quietly praised at the time.
Her treatment has proved what many of us have always known: No matter how beautiful you are, whom you marry, what palaces you occupy, charities you support, how faithful you are, how much money you accumulate or what good deeds you perform, in this society racism will still follow you.
In Britain’s rigid class society, there is still a deep correlation between privilege and race. The relatively few people of color — and even fewer if you count only those who have African heritage — who rise to prominent success and prosperity in Britain are often told we should be “grateful” or told to leave if we don’t like it here.
The legacy of Britain’s history of empire — a global construct based on a doctrine of white supremacy — its pioneering role in the slave trade and ideologies of racism that enabled it, and policies of recruiting people from the Caribbean and Africa into low-paid work and then discriminating against them in education and housing, is with us today: The scandal surrounding the wrongful deportation of black British people in recent
Meghan’s decision to join the family that is the symbolic heart of the establishment responsible for this troubled history was perplexing to many black British people, as we wondered whether she fully appreciated the institution she had entered.
Both she and Harry appear to have gained crystal clear vision as to their reality. It’s no wonder the couple want to leave and — as the coded statement that they want to raise their son Archie “with the space to focus on the next chapter” seems to suggest — protect him from the bile to which they’ve been exposed.
The British press, having attacked the couple continuously, now reacts with shock at this move. But the clues have been there for some time for anyone willing to read them.
There was the decision not to give Archie a title from birth — something that is expected among royal children of this rank but which Meghan and Harry appear to have chosen to avoid. Then there were the rumors last spring that they might relocate to a country in southern Africa.
In recent months, the couple have begun bypassing official royal channels and communicating with the press directly — most notably when the Duchess said in a television documentary that she found adjusting to royal life “hard,” and Harry revealed that the tragic experience of the death of his mother, Princess Diana, made him want to “protect” his wife and family.
All were signs that the couple would not abide by royal business as usual, to the extent that even announcing this decision to step down from their roles as senior royals appears to have taken Buckingham Palace by surprise.
I am not at all surprised. This was the bitter shadow of their sunny May 2018 wedding. How many of us suspected — hoping but doubting we were wrong — that what would really initiate Meghan into her new role as a Briton with African heritage would be her experience of British racism. And ironically, by taking matters into their own hands, Harry and Meghan’s act of leaving — two fingers up at the racism of the British establishment — might be the most meaningful act of royal leadership I’m ever likely to see.
LONDON — They have been dubbed the Conservative rebels, a group of renegade lawmakers willing to risk their careers to defy their newly chosen leader, Prime Minister Boris Johnson, and hobble his leadership over their clashing views on Brexit.
But behind all the talk of revolutionary ardor and mutinous tactics is an unlikely group of insurrectionists — a band of starchy grandees of Tory politics that includes Winston Churchill’s grandson and a 45-year party veteran and ex-chancellor so colorless that he earned the nickname “Spreadsheet Phil.” Running the government only weeks ago, they now flout it from the sidelines.
They believe that Mr. Johnson, in his zeal for pulling Britain out of the European Union without a deal, is risking severe damage to the British economy. But they also believe that he is tearing the Conservatives apart, setting fire to their vision of a big-tent party with priorities beyond Brexit.
In setting aside their usual caution and threatening to rip the heart out of Mr. Johnson’s Brexit plans on Tuesday night, they are offering perhaps the clearest indication yet that the party, squabbling for decades over Europe, is on the brink of a civil war.
Iran demanded the immediate release of one of its tankers impounded with the help of British forces in Gibraltar this week, an incident that has angered Tehran and exacerbated tensions between Iran and Western countries.
The British ambassador to Iran was summoned to the country’s foreign ministry Thursday night shortly after British Royal Marines assisted Gibraltar in the detention of an oil tanker that was bound for Syria in suspected violation of European Union sanctions. Iran has supported Syrian President Bashar al-Assad through an eight-year war.
A senior Iranian Foreign Ministry official told British Ambassador Robert Macaire that the tanker seizure was “tantamount to maritime piracy,” according to the ministry’s website. The official “stressed that Britain has no right to impose its own unilateral sanctions or those of the European Union in an extraterritorial manner against the other countries.”
A day earlier, Iranian Foreign Ministry spokesman Abbas Mousavi said the impounded tanker, named Grace 1, was carrying fuel from Iran, according to the state-run IRNA news agency. He didn’t say where the fuel was headed.
The U.K. Foreign Office didn’t comment on the meeting but in a statement Friday said it welcomed “this firm action by the Gibraltarian authorities, acting to enforce the EU Syria Sanctions regime.”
Gibraltar’s Supreme Court ruled the tanker could be detained for 14 more days, the British territory’s government said Friday.
One British official said the ship was registered to a company in Lebanon. This is the first time the U.K. has seized a ship for violating sanctions against Syria. The Gibraltar police are now involved over deciding what to do with the crew and the ship.
Mohsen Rezaei, secretary of Iran’s Expediency Discernment Council, which advises the supreme leader, on Friday tweeted that Iran should seize a British tanker if the Iranian vessel isn’t released immediately.
“The Islamic Revolution has never initiated any battles in its 40-year history but has also never hesitated in responding to bullies,” Mr. Rezaei added on Twitter.
Recent attacks on oil tankers in the Gulf of Oman has raised the risk for oil tankers traveling through waters off Iran’s coast.
Danish A.P. Moller-Maersk , the world’s largest container shipper, on Thursday said it would raise prices for sending containers into the Persian Gulf, following similar moves from other major shipping companies.
In a statement, Maersk said it would charge an extra $42 per 20-foot container for shipments to some ports in Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, Qatar, United Arab Emirates, Kuwait, Iraq and Oman.
The threat to U.K. ships has historical precedents. In 2007, Iran detained 15 U.K. Royal Navy personnel off the Iran-Iraq coast, alleging they had entered Iranian waters. The sailors were released 12 days later. Iran also in 2004 captured eight British sailors who were training Iraqi forces, releasing them after three days.
The unusual seizure of the Iranian vessel piles pressure on Tehran, which has tried to find ways to evade U.S. sanctions imposed with the aim of slashing the country’s oil exports to zero.
The incident in Gibraltar, a British overseas territory, adds to growing acrimony between Iran and the EU, which doesn’t have broad sanctions in place against Iran. Tehran is moving toward a second violation of the 2015 nuclear accord on Sunday when it has said it would surpass limits imposed by that agreement on its uranium enrichment. The U.S. pulled out of the deal last year and then imposed sanctions on the country.
The U.K., which alongside Germany, France, China and Russia, remains a party to the 2015 nuclear deal with Iran, has worked to keep the pact alive. However the U.K. is caught in a delicate balancing act, defending the nuclear accord while sharing the White House’s concerns about Iran’s growing belligerence in the Middle East.
Tensions between the U.K. and Iran are already high. Britain has joined the U.S. in blaming Iran for attacks on oil tankers in May in the Gulf of Oman and is also campaigning for the release of several Iranian British dual nationals who have been detained in Iran. These include Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe who was jailed in 2016 for spying, an activity she denies.
For its part, Iran has grown increasingly frustrated with European countries, demanding that they stand up to U.S. pressure and provide some relief from American sanctions. The Iranian Foreign Ministry said that based on its available information the tanker had been seized at the request of the U.S.
Gibraltar’s government denied that, saying its decision to board the tanker was “not at all based on extraneous political considerations” and not “taken at the political behest or instruction of any other state or of any third party.”
U.S. national security adviser John Bolton called the tanker seizure “excellent news,” tweeting on Thursday that “America & our allies will continue to prevent regimes in Tehran & Damascus from profiting off this illicit trade.”
A British shipping executive with direct knowledge of the matter said the ship was tracked by American authorities, who informed the British.
The decline in oil sales has strained Iran’s economy. Its budget is based on the assumption that Iran would be able to export 1.5 million barrels a day, already a stark drop from the 2.5 million barrels it exported a day this time last year.
As U.S. sanctions have bitten harder than the Iranian leadership expected, Tehran has taken a more confrontational approach, and in June shot down a U.S. surveillance drone. Washington also accuses Iran of attacking six oil tankers in the Gulf of Oman, a charge Iran denies.
In the wake of harsh sanctions by the Trump administration, Iran’s oil exports have fallen to around 230,000 barrels a day, mostly to China, according to a former Iran oil official.
A top adviser to the Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei on Friday praised China for continuing to purchase Iranian oil.
“China has continued to buy our oil and will do this in the future,” Ali Akbar Velayati, the adviser, said in an interview with Mr. Khamenei’s website.
National Anthem of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland – “God Save The Queen” Includes lyrics in English.
He’s the most effective demagogue in a generation. Now he sets the agenda.
LONDON — Nigel Farage is the British crisis in human form. His party, the unambiguously named Brexit Party, which is hardly a party and didn’t exist six months ago, won nearly a third of the British vote in the recent European Parliament elections, putting it in first place and driving the shattered Conservative Party into fifth. Long underestimated, Mr. Farage has done more than any politician in a generation to yank British politics to the hard, nationalist right. He is one of the most effective and dangerous demagogues Britain has ever seen.
With his last political vehicle, the U.K. Independence Party, or UKIP, Mr. Farage took an assortment of Tory retirees and a smattering of ex-fascists and other right-wing cranks, and welded them into a devastating political weapon: a significant national party. That weapon tore such chunks out of the Conservatives’ share of the vote that the party leadership felt compelled to call a referendum on Europe — which it then lost. Mr. Farage declared victory and went into semiretirement as a pundit.
Now, almost three years after the Brexit vote, he’s back. His timing could hardly be better. After a “lost decade” of declining living standards and flat wage growth, trust in Parliament and the news media is at rock bottom. The Conservatives are disintegrating; Prime Minister Theresa May is on her way out of office, having failed to secure a parliamentary majority for her Brexit deal. She failed because, rather than seeking cross-party consensus, she tried to placate her own hard right and prevent voters from abandoning the party — again. Unable to do so, she has simply hardened public opinion.
A poll in April found that given a choice between remaining in the European Union, and leaving with no deal, 44 percent of Britons support “no deal.” The vast majority of these voters previously supported the Conservatives. But since they are the party of business, they can’t seriously contemplate leaving without a deal. Nor can Parliament.
The resulting stalemate, combined with an election in which the main parties barely campaign, presented Mr. Farage with an easy target. And thanks to his success, there is enormous pressure on the Conservatives to deliver Brexit in October, deal or no deal. Boris Johnson, likely to replace Mrs. May as prime minister, is now pledging to do just that.
The Brexit Party’s campaign was a one-man show. While it has a sophisticated digital strategy, the party has no members and no manifesto, and none of its candidates were democratically selected. It offered only one policy: a “No Deal” Brexit. Its rallies focus on star performances by Mr. Farage, introduced with thundering motivational music. He is a gifted communicator, verbally dexterous, with a sense of humor.
Like many English reactionaries — including Mr. Johnson — he speaks in a nostalgic, “old world” register. He doesn’t talk about taxes or privatization. He talks about unfairness and loss, about the sovereignty supposedly ceded to Europe, immigration and elite cosmopolitans. And he names a placebo solution within reach: Brexit. The great escape. It’s a powerful antidepressant.
It is ironic that Mr. Farage appeals to people who are besieged by precisely the kind of volatile financial capitalism that he champions. He is, like President Trump, that paradoxical figure: the capitalist populist. He made his money as a City trader during the boom years of the 1980s, reveling in its adrenaline-fueled, heavy-drinking culture. He is the Gordon Gekko of British politics. It’s striking, to those who care to look, just how much his agenda is about class interest: He opposes extended maternity leave, raising the minimum wage and reducing the retirement age — anything that inconveniences his nouveau riche confederates. If he had his way, many of his supporters would be working harder, longer, for less money, with less protection. That, indeed, is his Brexit dream: Singapore on the Thames.
Even his racism is class-bound. Mr. Farage’s problem is not just with immigrants, it seems, but with poor immigrants especially: those from Eastern Europe, or Muslim countries, or those with H.I.V. He has said he would be uncomfortable with Romanians as neighbors, but he married a woman from Germany. He hates the European Union because its moderate social legislation and free movement defy what he thinks is a Darwinian cultural ecology through which some rise and others fall.
It is a mistake to overstate his “white working-class” base — UKIP included plenty of professionals and managers — but he has wooed many older, white workers, remote from the center of financial power where he built his career. Some were ex-Labour voters in manual jobs. His offer to them is that, in a society of dog-eat-dog competition, they will not have to compete with foreign workers. This is why the liberal press’s muckraking about his racism and far-right connections, by itself, generally doesn’t work. Far from impeding Mr. Farage, racism is his ticket to success. It puts him on the same side as his poorest voters.
With Parliament deadlocked and the Conservatives nearing their death throes, Mr. Farage has spotted an opportunity: a new political model, inspired by the Five Star Movement in Italy. A “digital platform” that harnesses the free labor of its “users,” allowing them “participation” through content-sharing and online polls, rather than rights. Parliamentary democracy is slow at the best of times, and these are not the best of times. Such platforms, however, introduce volatility to the system. Dropping UKIP, a traditional membership party, he launched something like a venture capitalist start-up, with crowdfunders rather than members, and a chief executive rather than a leader.
Hence, the Brexit Party. Unlike older party models, it doesn’t invest in lasting infrastructure. It is nimble-footed, expert at gaming social media — the stock market of attention. It won the battle for clicks, and made a killing in this election. Such online frenzies are akin to destabilizing flows of hot money, forcing legacy parties to adapt or die. But when Parliament is so weak, its legitimacy so tenuous, they can look like democratic upsurge.
That may be Mr. Farage’s ultimate triumph. The quintessential City trader and apostle of cutthroat competition, he is exploiting our democratic crisis to remake politics in his own image.
Sting: I’m an alien, I’m a legal alien. I’m an Englishman in New York