It was Bismarck who expressed the art of political leadership most poetically. “A statesman cannot create anything himself,” Germany’s 19th-century iron chancellor once said. “He must wait and listen until he hears the steps of God sounding through events; then leap up and grasp the hem of his garment.”
In other words, when it comes, seize the day. Leadership as Bismarck perfected it combined opportunity, readiness and drive. If circumstances allowed – something Bismarck was brilliant at ensuring – an opening might present itself, through which he could propel the state in the direction he wanted. At such moments, the gales of history seem to intensify, making it possible to achieve things that would otherwise be impossible, or more hazardous, in normal times.
Bismarck was a master at creating such moments. So was Franklin Roosevelt. Some would make a similar claim for Margaret Thatcher. Lesser leaders merely find these moments thrust upon them. Boris Johnson, for example, compelled by the pandemic to attempt – badly – things he would not normally contemplate, but which the nation required: things such as lockdown, the furlough scheme, or the vaccine rollout.
Donald Trump’s idea of leadership is the opposite of Bismarck’s. But Trump is fashioning a moment of unusual opportunity for Keir Starmer. The decisions the British prime minister faces are not primarily about UK relations with Washington. Starmer is rightly trying not to tear up that playbook. But he now faces a series of choices which did not exist three months ago and which are the direct and indirect accumulated consequences of Trump’s trade wars, foreign policy betrayals and disrespectful “kiss-my-ass” bullying. Starmer now has to show whether he is a Bismarck or a Boris.
Trump shakes up every political kaleidoscope. He has transformed the internal politics of Canada, where the Liberals look like winning an election they were previously likely to lose. German politics has been upended, with Friedrich Merz, the incoming chancellor, casting aside decades of fiscal orthodoxy to promote huge spending on defence and infrastructure. They are not isolated examples. Trump forces all states to consider their options. This process will not stop.
He is reshaping the political space here in Britain too. Because of Trump’s unpopularity, options for the Conservatives and Reform UK have narrowed, while those for the parties in power have broadened. Trump has enabled Starmer to define the situation facing Britain as a national crisis. He has allowed Labour to pose as offering the patriotic response. And he is permitting Starmer to position himself as something akin to a wartime leader.
If every cloud has a silver lining, or if every setback is an opportunity, then this is a pivotal moment for Starmer. Labour’s re-election may depend on exploiting the openings that Trump has created for him. But it should immediately be said that this is not the same as writing a wishlist of the things Starmer might do in an ideal world without constraints or consequences.
The possible nationalisation of British Steel highlights some limits. The mere discussion this week of that possibility is an indication that Trump has opened a window of opportunity for Starmer. But that window exists because of national economic need amid a global trade war. By that yardstick, defending a UK steel industry qualifies as a patriotic act. That argument does not apply so overwhelmingly to the nationalisation of water or rail.
One obvious thing for which Starmer also now has some cover is closer rapprochement with the European Union, most probably in the form of customs union membership. The overriding purpose would be to expand UK trade and protect the UK economy from the Trump slump. He could depict this as the obvious patriotic course. His watchwords would be prosperity and the national interest, and nothing else. There would be no rejoining the EU.
Another option would be to adjust the UK’s fiscal rules because of the trade war emergency and the need for increased defence spending. This would be an impossible economic move at the moment, because the bond markets are febrile, and currencies unstable. Politically, however, it is now on the cards, because, as Germany shows, fiscal orthodoxy is no longer viable and the emergency allows, in principle, for bolder options.
Less popular with liberals, but perhaps tempting to the government for electoral reasons, are two other options made more possible by the trade war. One is to say North Sea drilling will continue, or even be boosted, in order to maximise UK energy self-sufficiency, especially if accompanied by a pledge to restrict the oil and gas to domestic use. The other is to introduce a compulsory digital ID system, in part to restrict rights to benefits and access to services to qualified holders.
And what about a government fund to support UK universities to attract US scientists whose funding and research are now being attacked by Trump? This week, Cornell and Northwestern joined Brown, Columbia, Princeton, Harvard and the National Institutes of Health among the victims. Starmer should offer government support for programmes and laboratory building in UK universities aimed at attracting the US’s top scientists in things like artificial intelligence, quantum computing and life sciences. Visas would be fast-tracked. The larger goal would be to turbocharge new UK industries with global potential. Perhaps it’s a job for Kate Bingham, who headed the Covid vaccine drive.
They may or may not belong to God, but all these steps are sounding closer and louder today. On a different occasion, Bismarck defined politics as “the capacity of always choosing at each instant, in constantly changing situations, the least harmful, the most useful”. Because of Trump, Starmer faces a range of such choices today. But it is time for him to leap up and grab the passing hem.
Martin Kettle is a Guardian columnist
