Ted Bromund: America shies away from Britain's woes

BY and large, Americans are not much interested in foreign elections.

Britain has always been the exception that proves the rule. That's partly because Britons and Americans speak the same language – or so Americans believe. But, of course, the Canadians and the Australians speak English, and their elections pass by quietly in the US.

Britain, among all the nations of the world, has always been the one with elections that Americans care about. The reason why is clear.

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

Americans have a fascination with British politics, which they believe they understand. Even more importantly, they have an abiding respect for Britain as a great democracy, a cultural centre, and a vital ally.

In the past, America cared about Britain's elections, simply put, because Britain mattered.

But not this year. There has never been a British election of so little interest to Americans. There have been a few fawning pieces on Nick Clegg, who represents the political dream of the American liberal lite. There is puzzlement at the concept of a hung Parliament. And there is a vague recognition that British politics are more confusing than they seemed. But compared with previous elections, it is the sheer inattention of America that has stood out.

In part, this is because none of the three main party leaders grabbed the American eye. You can't fault Cameron for this: it isn't easy for an opposition leader to command regular transatlantic headlines. Gordon Brown, though, is another matter. His inability to provide a compelling narrative in the United States is the least of his problems, but it means that Americans, of all political stripes, lack a clear rooting interest in the outcome.

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

That was something that Brown's predecessor, Tony Blair, excelled in generating. For the past three elections, and for better or worse, he was the story. In 1997, he personified New Labour. In 2001, he asked Britain to stay the course. And in 2005, wounded by Iraq, he was pursued by both the opposition and his enemies in his own party.

Once Blair survived that test, and retired on his own terms, the American public lost the thread. The issue in British politics today is not the survival of a leader of Blair's stature, or of Britain's continued commitment to the Iraq war. It is a much duller, more grinding danger: the danger of national insolvency and default.

Americans should care about this. But precisely because of the prestige that Britain still commands in America, the degree to which Britain has mismanaged its public finances is inconceivable to Americans. Anyone in the US who cares about such things knows Greece lied its way into the euro and that the Germans will end up paying the price.

But Americans have too much respect for Britain to recognise how badly off it is. They are stunned when told that Britain's annual deficit is more than it collects in income tax. They are astonished when informed that Britain has one of the world's worst structural deficits. And they are amazed to learn that the Government is spending over 50 per cent of Britain's national income. Americans think of their government when they think of fiscal incontinence, not Britain's.

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

In one way, Britons are lucky to command, even if undeservedly, such a good name in the eyes of the world: if the markets had as little regard for the British political system as they have for Greece's, Britain's situation would be far worse. But as the Greek example shows, luck doesn't last forever. Americans may not care, in part, because they don't understand Britain's position. But they also don't care because it's not clear the British people do.

The great British public has long wanted two mutually contradictory things from their politicians: European levels of services and American levels of taxation. As this is impossible, they are never happy for long, and they vote according to which itch is most in need of scratching.

In the late 1970s, with Labour having run the economy into the ground, Margaret Thatcher was the answer. In the mid-1990s, with the Tories having set the economy back on track, the public could indulge its desire for more goodies by voting Labour. What is new, and depressing, about this election is that the Liberal Democrats, the party that has made the biggest splash, is also the party that is the least interested in cutting spending.

To return to Thatcher's metaphor, government spending is looking more and more like a ratchet: it only moves one way. Of course, as everyone knows, that won't work. But the fact that all the parties have ring-fenced so much of the British budget testifies to the unreality of this campaign: cuts are fine, but preferably later, and for someone else.

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

In reality, the need to cut government spending is an opportunity, not a problem. It's an opportunity to focus on what the government needs to do, instead of allowing it to sprawl into things it simply can do.

The fact that so many believe the government is the most efficient spender of other people's money is profoundly troubling.

And that is why it is so unfortunate, and so telling, that Americans are paying so little attention to this campaign. The US is indulging in the same epic financial irresponsibility that marked the last 10 years of the Labour Government. The result under Labour has been a diminution of Britain's role in the world, with the nation now struggling to sustain its deployment in Afghanistan.

The US is headed down the same road. If it troubled to glance in the British mirror, it would glimpse its future. Perhaps that, ultimately, is why Americans have been so keen to look away.

Ted Bromund is a senior research fellow at The Margaret Thatcher Center for Freedom, based at The Heritage Foundation in Washington.