The UK needs to keep out of the Middle East

Iraq, Libya, Afghanistan: our recent interventions have not been a success. Let’s not repeat the error

On Thursday night, after making a cup of cocoa, I turned on the news to learn that we’re bombing the Houthis. There was no warning, no parliamentary debate. When David Cameron faced the foreign affairs committee two days before – at which he could not define Gaza’s legal status or recall his lawyers’ advice on the subject – Yemen took up just seven minutes. Yet here we are on the verge of war. Again.

If there is one good reason to use military force it’s to stop piracy, so we owe the United States gratitude for that much. But why did Britain have to be involved? And what is the long-term plan? Joe Biden had put us on the path to disengagement from the Muslim world by withdrawing from Afghanistan, yet since October 7 the West appears determined to get stuck back in, fighting a proxy battle with Iran, which masterminds all the H-es (Houthis, Hamas and Hezbollah).

To this, I offer an alternative strategy. Let’s pull out. We’ve been trying to bring peace and democracy to this region for decades and it hasn’t worked, because it is dominated by lunatics and cynics whose politics resists logic and negotiation. The Houthis, who believe Yemen should be run by a holy man distantly related to the Prophet Muhammed, are a fine example.

In the 1990s, the Sunni Saudis threatened Yemeni territory, so Yemen’s president allegedly supported the Houthis to bolster the Shia resistance. They got too big; the president sent his cousin to destroy them. But every time the cousin came close to winning, the president mysteriously declared a ceasefire. It was whispered that the president hated his cousin more than he did the Houthis, hoping he’d get killed in battle. What we do know is that the cousin’s map location was leaked to the Saudis, who were told it was a rebel stronghold and invited to bomb it.

Unsurprisingly, the cousin cut a deal with the Houthis and allowed them to establish a quasi-government in the north. Thereupon they switched allegiance to the president, and captured the capital in 2014. Saudi Arabia wanted to crush the rebellion; then prime minister David Cameron agreed, so he green-lit billions in arms sales to Riyadh. Up to 400,000 people are thought to have died in the ensuing war, from fighting, disease and lack of food, while British bombs, made in Glenrothes, Harlow and Stevenage, have done little to promote our global brand. In 2017, Andrew Mitchell – now Cameron’s voice in the Commons – told MPS that British foreign policy had ceased to make sense, that at the same time as we were trying to get aid into Yemen, we were assisting with its blockade – radicalising “an entire generation” by our support for Saudi bombing.

Mitchell visited a demolished school, perhaps hit by one of our exports, where children were being taught in tents provided by our taxpayers. The pupils were chanting “Death to the Saudis and Americans!” Out of politeness, “they had omitted from their chanting the third country on their list”.

Despite the Saudi campaign, the Houthis still control most of the Yemeni population. Military intervention rarely succeeds on its own terms. A strong argument for action, Cameron told the foreign affairs committee, is to prevent bloodshed; he had bombed Gaddafi in 2011, he said, to stop Gaddafi killing his people. But the death of the late dictator exacerbated a civil war that has murdered many thousands more, reminding us that good motives, if insufficiently interrogated, can lead to greater evil.

The history of the Houthis is intimately linked to our foreign policy. They arose from the ashes of the Cold War, were radicalised by the invasion of Iraq and given a fresh role by the Arab Spring. Their Red Sea attacks are justified as a protest at the bombing of Gaza. The West’s retaliation will no doubt enhance their popularity.

At the heart of the Western imagination lies the myth that all human beings want the same things, hence every foreigner desperately wishes to live like us. But parts of the developing world have proven impervious to democracy – too tribal, too religious – and one now has to ask how it benefits our citizens to spend vast sums attempting to police them.

Cameron is one of the more capable exponents of globalism, of the view that the world is becoming smaller and more integrated, so we must try to shape it to our advantage. This ambition is absurdly out of proportion to Britain’s wealth and military capability, and out of touch with the cultural drift of Western societies. Parochialism is in. Our populations want less immigration, more sovereignty – to reduce our dependence on China, move manufacturing onshore and, with an eye on the environment, consume less.

We are told that there is no money for anything, yet the PM has managed to find £2.5billion for Ukraine – even though it will probably soon have to negotiate a ceasefire – and to splash out £1-£2million a piece on missiles fired at the Houthis. The establishment regards Britain’s role to give, give, give – aid, arms, asylum – and each time it does, it draws us further into Byzantine conflicts, necessitating deeper sacrifice and exposing us to greater risk.

To date, the Houthis have not sunk any ships or killed a single sailor. Do you think, following this operation, that the situation in the Red Sea is likely to get better or worse?