Trump’s inevitable May day swing

During the Trump-May press conference at Chequers, ITV journalist Robert Peston asked President Donald Trump to calibrate the specialness of the relationship between the US and Britain, perhaps hoping for some sort of lukewarm response. Spotting the trap, Trump stepped on the gas. He asked the journalists if there was anything higher than “the highest level of special”. On confirmation that he had indeed reached the verbal summit at this political summit, the president settled for that.

Trump looked pleased with this bare-faced defiance, as ever. Theresa May, not naturally given to hyperbole, just displayed a blend of relief and embarrassment, as if the insincerity of it might appear just a bit too obvious. What seems to have happened is that Trump had reverted to his usual, baffling pattern of behaviour before meeting other world leaders. It runs roughly as follows: Trump gives an interview or throws some off-the-cuff remark out during a press conference, or thumbs out a tweet that offends an honoured ally or deadly enemy alike.

Then the opportunity, or obligation, arises for Trump to meet that ally, possibly after some strong diplomatic protests. When he is physically next to them, he then rows back and uses a mixture of bluster, denials and generalised flak about “fake news” to claim that relations are actually the best they could ever be, and he had never suggested otherwise. Then he insults someone else.

Such has been May’s fate as she was put through the emotional wringer, again, this time as a result of an interview in The Sun.

In the morning she was a poor substitute for Boris Johnson, was an incompetent negotiator, and her Brexit white paper had virtually killed any trade deal with the US. By the early afternoon we were through the looking glass again, and into a world where the prime minister wasn’t some sort of sub-Boris weak loser, but, standing next to the president, was, rather “an incredible woman doing a fantastic job”.