If you look at the now-evacuated British embassy in Tehran, its high walls and trees hiding recent damage from rioters, you wouldn’t think that Britain could claim much of a role in dissuading Iran from its apparent pursuit of nuclear weapons. Indeed, many say it hasn’t had one, adding this to their evidence of the decline of British influence.
But ten years of on-off talks with Tehran should still count as a success. British diplomats have probed for weak points and for a deal, in that ambiguous, shifting territory where their American counterparts cannot tread; they have taken a lead, with France and the US, in crafting sanctions which now have real bite. Mark Fitzpatrick makes a strong case—with which I agree—that it is still possible to persuade Iran, by sanctions and US threats of last-resort military strikes, that nuclear weapons would cost more than they would be worth.
Agreed, we are not at a high point of British confidence. Budget cuts, the threat of recession, casualties in Afghanistan, the possible loss of the Falklands—and Scotland—they are all corrosive. Our March cover story (“The end of welfare?”) showed both government and opposition to be floundering, in ideas and in relations with voters. As the BBC’s Today programme put it, in debating our poll with Polly Toynbee and Frank Field, the results were uncomfortable for Labour. But as Matthew Parris argued, in devoting his Timescolumn to our survey, the Conservatives could never afford to make such cuts—and he is right. David Cameron has barely, since taking office, mentioned his commitments to fixing the broken parts of British society; had he made good on that pledge to the poorest, he would be in a stronger position. As it is, he is vulnerable—as shown by David Davis’s condemnation of “crony capitalism” also in our March issue (see Letters), which the Guardian called a “lethal attack.”
Some of Davis’s themes were echoed at our 1st March conference on regenerating the economy, where many argued that ministers had failed to get banks lending to businesses. Peter Mandelson lamented “the British way”—a persistent fitfulness in policy. Many felt that applied to education; it was perhaps fortunate they did not have to hand our new report on the fall in average IQs. But although economist David Kern rose up to pronounce Britain sentimental about manufacturing, the overall mood was upbeat. No one mentioned the fashion business—but couldn’t have done better than Edward Docx’s startled tribute to the neon and neoprene of London Fashion Week.
To deny that Britain is losing influence would be crass boosterism, but the decline is often overstated. True, governments display a taste for muddling through and an indulgence of a culture of amateurism that should long ago have gone. The results are exasperating, costly and painful. But the strengths of “the British way” are shown in commercial resilience, in the irreverence of London fashion, and not least, in the quiet calculations of the decade-long tussle with Tehran.