Europe

London, England When I checked the date that Boris Johnson resigned as prime minister, I thought it must have been wrong. July? The psychodrama that ensued felt as if it had been going on for years. If Boris’s tenure was the main show, Liz Truss’s stint as Britain's shortest-serving PM was the slapdash encore that no one asked for. You know, when the music restarts as you’re eyeing up a taxi home and secretly thinking the act needn’t have bothered. Boris’s downfall, the real one — not the multiple wobbles — began with Partygate. A steady drip of salacious stories for months, each one getting slightly more unforgivable, recounting incidences of Boris and members of his government breaching the strict lockdown rules he himself had set in place.

London, England Nobody in British politics really thought things could get worse than last night. Conservative MP Charles Walker told the BBC that the day was a "pitiful reflection" of the party; he added that there was "no coming back from it." Seasoned political editors described Wednesday as the most catastrophic day of their careers. The government victory on fracking — with 326 votes opposing the Labour motion to 230 backing it — was tarnished by claims of intimidation and bullying in the House of Commons. The home secretary, Suella Braverman was fired for sending official documents from her personal phone, something which is likely now a relief for her. Two other figures were said to have quit, but remained in their posts when questioned twelve hours later.

It was 11:15 p.m. in Kyiv, just after the curfew, and the military had set up its checkpoints on the city streets. Finding your way home after hours can be a hazardous business. The city is paranoid about assassins and saboteurs, and in wartime few are above suspicion. Things were looking ominous until my friend Sasha declared: “we are late for breakfast.” The guards waved us through. This was the daily password, shared with those important enough to move around after curfew. Checkpoints and curfews were a few reminders of the war in Kyiv, where I was just before last week’s deadly air strikes. In the capital city, life was approaching some form of normalcy.

Can Ukraine sustain a war effort that is proceeding far better than most military analysts ever expected? Part of that answer, of course, depends on the extent to which the Ukrainian army can keep their troops in the field equipped, supplied, and motivated. That challenge comes as the Russian military increasingly relies on so-called “kamikaze drones” to strike deep into Ukrainian territory (on October 17, a Russian drone attack killed four people in Kyiv during the morning rush hour). But another factor that will determine success or failure is whether Europe remains onboard — or, more to the point, whether Europe’s support to Kyiv will continue as the war enters a dreary, unforgiving winter.

“The Queen is dead, boys, and it’s so lonely on a limb.” So the ever-provocative Morrissey sang on the title track of the Smiths’ 1986 album. At the time, his wishes were regarded as little more than republican throat-clearing, shot through with satirical wit. In the same song, he imagined an unlikely encounter with the Queen, who remarks caustically, “Eh, I know you, and you cannot sing.” Some of his detractors might agree. But now, thirty-six years on, the Queen really is dead. Queen Elizabeth II, the longest-reigning monarch in British history, died on September 8, 2022 at the age of ninety-six. The second Elizabethan age — one that surpassed the first for both achievement and longevity — has come to an end.

The Russian army has been the source of an endless list of shortcomings and embarrassments over the last eight months. There are simply too many of them to count, from the failure to move through Kyiv’s suburbs in March to the sinking of the flagship Moskva in April to the loss in September of more than 3,000 square kilometers of territory in just days. But by far the most humiliating to Vladimir Putin personally was last weekend’s attack on the twelve-mile bridge that connects mainland Russia with Crimea, the peninsula Moscow annexed in 2014. That bridge, which cost more than $7 billion to build, was one of Putin’s pet projects, a visible signal to the world about Moscow’s staying power in the region.

Last Friday, President Biden signed a spending bill that will keep the government’s lights on until December 16, when lawmakers will have to cobble together a funding resolution to avert a shutdown. Tucked into that law was another tranche of security and economic assistance to Ukraine, to the tune of $12.3 billion. The signing came two days after the Defense Department announced the release of an additional $1.1 billion military package for Kyiv, which will include 18 more HIMARS systems, 150 armored vehicles, and ammunition of various calibers. The Biden administration has provided the Ukrainians with over $16 billion in security assistance since Russia’s invasion in February. Washington’s hands have been cramping up from writing so many checks.

Giorgia Meloni and her Brothers of Italy party were swept into power in elections this weekend, a development that the media complex in America greeted with all the subtlety of a bird smacking into a sliding door. The New York Times managed to call her a “fascist” 28 times in a single article. Meloni stands to become Italy’s first female prime minister — but I suppose it’s only good for women to break glass ceilings if they’re the correct kind of women.

September 8, 2022 will go down in history as the date we lost Her Majesty Elizabeth II, Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and of her other realms and territories, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith. Her son Charles, Prince of Wales, has now succeeded her as King Charles III. For the first time in this writer’s life, the anthem is to be sung as "God Save the King." To write about the accomplishments of the sole public figure remaining from one’s earliest memories is a daunting task. The Queen in her turn inherited an institution that is difficult for Americans — especially of a conservative stripe — to understand.

Following the death of Queen Elizabeth II last week, every national TV network in America dispatched crack squads of producers to London to cover the aftermath. Staff shortages meant that The Spectator opted to send Cockburn over on an economy flight, although he bets that if it was anyone else, they’d be flying classy. After Cockburn got over the screaming kids and bad liquor on his JetBlue plane, he decided to start at Buckingham Palace. This was, in hindsight, a huge mistake. In fact, Cockburn would go as far to say that the British royal family’s HQ is host to a cabal of the worst humans on earth. Loud, crying Americans, British oiks taking smiling selfies, Instagram moms laying flowers down seven times to make sure that their dutiful camera man got the best angle of their ass.

Last month, in preparation for an article about the growing gay backlash against trans ideology, I spoke with Bev Jackson, the co-founder of LGB Alliance, a gay and lesbian activist group that opposes the hijacking of the gay rights movement by transfolk. Bev told me about her background — fifty years in British gay activism, a resident of Amsterdam for four decades — and asked me about mine. I mentioned my 2006 book While Europe Slept, a cri de coeur about the Islamization of Europe. I heard in her voice a degree of disquiet about its topic. Nonetheless, she asked me to participate in the LGB Alliance’s forthcoming annual convention. I accepted, but when I hung up I told my partner: “I’ve been invited to a convention in London.

As Alexander Larman writes, the passage of the Queen is not a tragedy. No life lived so well, so dutifully, and with such faith in so many things now lost to us can be considered a tragedy. But it is nonetheless very sad, even for those of us in America — a nation she loved in so many ways. Her death seems like another blow to another important institution of the West, undermined in recent decades by boomer proclivities and millennial narcissism, and likely to break into a thousand pieces in the absence of the old-world values Elizabeth represented. What is more tragic, and more offensive, is the degree to which the Queen's passing has been met by historical ignorance from the anti-Western left and its attendant useful idiots on the decadence-obsessed right.

I write as an American patriot who is also a confirmed Anglophile. So when I got the sad news this morning that the Queen’s health had taken so dangerous a turn that the palace had summoned her family to Balmoral, I steeled myself for bad news. Alas, the bad news has now been confirmed. Queen Elizabeth II has died. It says a lot that when I say “the Queen” even American readers know I can mean only one person. The ninety-six-year-old had just celebrated her platinum anniversary this summer — seventy years on the throne, the longest of any English monarch. Elizabeth was far and away the most admired head of state in the world. Her good sense, her generosity of spirit, her thoughtful but active reticence have made her one of the most successful monarchs in history.

Russia’s brutal war on Ukraine has moved into a new phase, a very encouraging one for Ukraine and its western allies. In Phase 1, Russia tried — and failed — to seize the capital city of Kyiv with a blitzkrieg assault. The idea was to decapitate the Zelensky government quickly and install a puppet regime, subservient to Moscow. After that failed, Russia focused on taking the Donbas region of eastern Ukraine and forming a “land bridge” to Crimea, which Russia seized in 2014. Russia has had some success in this Phase 2 of the war, at very high cost, but movement along that front has now stalled.

Russia has invaded Ukraine, and the images are all over the news. CNN has gone to round-the-clock coverage of bombs falling near Kyiv, refugees pouring into Hungary, Putin’s war machine rolling down a misty highway. We’re outraged by this, roused to action, as we righteously hang a blue-and-yellow Ukrainian flag off the porch and learn to spell the names of places like Kherson and Mariupol. The West, listless and fractured, seems suddenly united again as opposition to Russian imperialism grows and... ...and it’s summer. The weather is warm and a gentle breeze is tinkling through the chimes. The kids are off from school, horsing around the kitchen, and the lawn isn’t going to mow itself.