Keir Starmer is stuck between a rock and a hard place over trade

Janus-like, Sir Keir Starmer insists that Britain does not have to choose between the United States and the European Union, saying: “Against the backdrop of these dangerous times, the idea that we must choose between our allies, that somehow we’re with either America or Europe, is plain wrong.”

This ambiguity about British priorities or “cakeism”, to put it less kindly, is hardly new – but it is becoming increasingly unsustainable. Since the Second World War, the British have found themselves sometimes bound by the bridge between the two shores of the Atlantic Ocean. Sometimes it is a happy relationship, sometimes it is torn.

It must be said, the UK found this relationship rather easier to handle over the half century when the UK was a member of the European Union and its forerunners. In security terms, all the main players on both sides of the pond (with the partial exception of France) were committed members of Nato, and all were committed to the established international order and, albeit haltingly, the gradual easing of international barriers to trade and investment.

The UK had its “special relationship” with the United States, notably on intelligence and nuclear weaponry; it was, or so it assumed, at the centre of the Commonwealth; and was a leading member of the European Union and Nato. The Venn diagram of international influence was perfectly formed so far as British diplomacy was concerned. London was at the centre of things.

Now, post-Brexit and with the imminent second coming of Donald Trump, things have taken a decided turn for the worse. The ties that bind have loosened, and not to Britain’s advantage. On security and on economics, the British, much against their wishes, are being forced to choose by the much bigger powers flanking them on either side.

Sir Keir told his audience at the Lord Mayor’s Banquet, regarding the Ukraine war: “I would encourage everyone here to stop and think for a moment about what it would mean to us, to our continent, to the world if Russia wins. What would it mean for our values – for democracy, commerce, and liberty?”

In Paris, Berlin, Brussels, Warsaw and Rome the horror conjured up by that rhetorical question is shared. In Washington, under President Trump? Not so much.

Mr Trump, the master of “the art of the deal”, is the first US president since before Franklin Roosevelt to see international relations as a zero sum game, and the first to see the transatlantic alliance in transactional terms. It used to be that Europe’s safety was vital to America’s security. No longer. Mr Trump has made no secret of his unwillingness to automatically fight for any and every European border threatened by Russia.

Article 5 of the North Atlantic Treaty, the “all for one, one for all” clause, will be effectively made conditional by the incoming isolationist administration. President Macron has asked his fellow Europeans – including the British – to draw their own conclusions and provide for their own defence.

Sir Keir has, on occasion, tacitly accepted that challenge by pursuing a defence and security dimension to his “reset” of the EU-UK Trade and Cooperation Agreement. The UK might not be “choosing” Europe over America, but only in the sense that, pending a functioning European Defence Community, the British have no choice but to hope for the best from Washington. Yet the trend is clear.

Much the same may be said for economics, tariffs and trade. If, or, more likely when, Mr Trump ramps up tariffs on imports, how will the British escape them and the damage they would inflict on already anaemic prospects for economic growth?

The UK could be attached to a free trade deal with America, the great Brexit prize that remains unfulfilled. But such a deal would be very much on Mr Trump’s terms, and, for him, no doubt predicated on reducing the UK’s healthy trade surplus with the US. It would inevitably require access to lucrative NHS contracts for US pharmaceutical giants and others – and the UK agreeing to import chlorinated chickens, genetically modified grains, hormone-boosted meat, and processed foods with additives previously banned in Britain.

If such an unpalatable deal had to be agreed by the British, for fear of losing American markets and defence cooperation, then that would necessarily wreck any hope of upgrading the UK-EU trade deal.

If, as was the case during the first Trump administration, appalled British public opinion rendered an American trade deal unacceptable, then the British would pay the vengeful price exacted by the Trump administration – fewer Range Rovers, fewer bottles of Scotch sold to American customers and less access for British service providers, as well as a general frostiness about the future of the British nuclear deterrent.

If he’s lucky, then Sir Keir, David Lammy – and whoever the next ambassador to the US turns out to be – will somehow manage to charm President Trump into going easy on the UK for sentimental and strategic reasons. That would conclude an advantageous US-UK free trade agreement, while simultaneously bringing us closer to our European partners.

If Sir Keir’s luck does not hold, then within the lifetime of his government the UK could be hit with punitive US trade tariffs with no realistic chance of regaining the trading and investment opportunities with Europe that were sacrificed for Brexit. Tough choices may have to be made.