World

Benjamin Netanyahu has made some of Israel's foreign enemies his friends, but he's finding it difficult to do the same domestically. India’s prime minister Narendra Modi visited Israel in July 2017, the first Indian representative to do so since the two countries first established a diplomatic relations in 1992. Netanyahu returned the gesture by visiting India in January 2018, when the two leaders spoke of a future together that would benefit both countries. In January 2019, Prime Minister Netanyahu re-established diplomatic relations with Chad as part of his effort to pursue diplomatic ties with African states.

After the Ukrainian crisis and the Iranian crisis, we now have the Ukrainian-Iranian crisis. For the second time in six months, Ukraine finds itself inexplicably — and inextricably — in the midst of a world-historical crisis that it had no part in crafting. As it was with Trump’s inquiries into Hunter Biden’s business activities, Kyiv is marooned politically and facing difficult and even unpalatable choices between warring opponents, neither of whom it wants to antagonize. The American airstrike that killed Qasem Soleimani had threatened to set off a conflagration which many observers — 99 percent of them never having heard of the most interesting man in the Middle East — histrionically predicted as ‘World War Three’. Blessedly, that did not happen.

One of the main reasons Labour lost the election in the UK was a well-orchestrated campaign of character assassination against Jeremy Corbyn, who was rated Top Anti-Semite of 2019 by the Wiesenthal Center (ahead of actual terrorists!). There is nothing new in this. It is a small part of the worldwide offensive whose victims include many Jews critical of Israeli politics — such as the 'propagandist for Hamas' Gideon Levy, who wrote in Haaretz on December 8: 'Laws labeling anti-Zionism as anti-Semitism and the anti-occupation movement as anti-Semitic, are passed with overwhelming majorities.

Will Boris Johnson get the majority he needs to 'get Brexit done'? Or has he followed in the footsteps of Theresa May?

Perhaps it truly will take place. Maybe it will happen.Imagine the scene. President Trump sits with his nose upturned as if a member of his entourage is suffering the effects of an enormous curry. Prime Minister Corbyn sits with a look of vague discomfort, as if he is meeting a friend's drunkenly abrasive wife. Their handshake is tense and their words are limited. (They have some common ground. As someone else — not me — suggested they are both unfriendly if not hostile towards the idea of Nato.)Afterwards, Trump says ‘Grandpa Jez’ is a ‘crazy guy’. ‘But we have to work together,’ he shrugs diplomatically. Corbyn tells the British press that he grilled the president on his sexism, racism and Islamophobia.

Prince Andrew has already lost his case in the court of public opinion. His floundering and implausible BBC interview about his long friendship with Jeffrey Epstein saw to that. ‘Randy Andy’ also seems to have forfeited the confidence of his own family: after the interview was broadcast, he was summoned to Buckingham Palace and relieved of his public duties. After last night, and a second broadcast by the BBC’s investigative Panorama program, The Prince and the Epstein, it is impossible not to conclude that Andrew is an unreliable witness to his own life: on screen, Andrew’s already flimsy alibis dissolved in the acid of Panorama’s evidence and testimonies.

This article is in The Spectator’s December 2019 US edition. Subscribe here. What have Fidel Castro, Nicolás Maduro, Hamas and the Khomeinist regime in Iran got in common? That the US has not exactly seen eye to eye with them over past years and decades? Well, yes. But there is another thing too: Jeremy Corbyn, the Labour party leader who could soon be the British prime minister, has warmly praised them all. Castro, according to Corbyn on the occasion of the former Cuban leader’s death in 2016, was a ‘champion of social justice’. Corbyn rang in to a Venezuelan TV program in 2014 to praise Maduro, who introduced him as a ‘friend of Venezuela’.

The former British chancellor of the exchequer – or finance minister – Nigel Lawson once described the National Health Service (NHS) as the closest thing the British have to a religion. For some, however, is a worse than that – less mainstream religion than messianic cult. Yesterday, Donald Trump reassured British radio listeners that in seeking to do a trade deal with Britain it is not attempting to interfere in the NHS.  Not that it made any difference. Activists for Jeremy Corbyn’s Labour party, which will face Boris Johnson’s Conservatives in a general election on December 12, continued to make the accusation that there is some secret plot to break up the NHS and sell it off to US healthcare corporations.

For a president about to face ‘The Greatest Witch Hunt In American History’, Donald Trump sounded thoroughly unperturbed when, as presidents often do when the House votes to impeach, he turned his attention to that essential part of the top job: a long, relaxed and amiable phone interview with Nigel Farage, addressing such matters of central import to the American public as the electoral chances of Jeremy Corbyn. Trump was on comedic top form, bantering about ‘Boris’ and ‘Sleepy Joe’ and ‘Pocahontas’, and explaining to his out-of-town audience that impeachment proceedings weren’t going to proceed anywhere because the Republicans control the Senate.

Meghan Markle, Duchess of Sussex and dim millennial virtue-signaler, has complained that she and Prince Harry are ‘existing, not living’. We should all be so lucky to merely exist on millions of pounds of taxpayers money in a selection of posh country houses with a loving spouse worth somewhere north of £40 million; with a new baby who is seventh in line to the British throne and whose great-grandmother, according to the Church of England, has a hotline to God; with Elton John’s jet on permanent stand-by to whisk you off to the sunny and exclusive hideaways of the extravagantly rich and famous; and, perhaps most valuable of all, with those keys to the kingdom of a life of impossible luxury: the goodwill of the British people.Not enough, apparently.

The Hitler of our century, Boston Celtics basketball player Enes Kanter has said, is the president of his native Turkey. In response to Lebron James playing interference for China following Rockets general manager Daryl Morey tweeting support for Hong Kong’s protesters and their struggle for liberty, Kanter responded with his experience: his outspoken criticism of Turkish president Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s human rights abuses has cost him his family and his safety. 'FREEDOM IS NOT FREE,' Kanter wrote on Twitter, also listing the consequences for his disobedience, including his father being jailed, Kanter’s attempted kidnapping, and having not seen or spoken to his family in five years. Him and his family became pariahs.

In 2006, as British Euroskepticism was gathering steam, Boris Johnson published a book called The Dream of Rome, in which he held up the Roman Empire as a successful model of European integration and as a foil to the unlovable European Union. That was a rather peculiar choice. You would hardly have expected the future Brexiteer to yearn for a time when Britain was but a marginal province of a ‘European super-state’, a label that Margaret Thatcher had once applied to the EU, yet which is a much better fit for imperial Rome. But Johnson also failed to realize that it had actually been the end of Roman power that launched Europe’s long, tortuous and unique journey toward modernity — a journey in which the sovereign United Kingdom came to play such an outsized role.

Should the United States be sending hundreds of millions of dollars in lethal weaponry to Ukraine? That's not a policy discussion we’ve heard aired in the past two weeks. This seems odd, because the provision of such lethal weaponry is at the center of the rapidly-unfolding Trump/Ukraine/impeachment drama. Trump is accused of withholding ‘aid’ for the purpose of ‘pressuring’ Ukranian authorities to carry out investigations that advance his political interests. At least at first blush, it’s a valid matter for inquiry. But what about the ‘aid’ itself?

The Hong Kong Stock Exchange has tabled a $37 billion bid for its London rival. Li Ka-shing is buying the pub chain Greene King for $3.3 billion. The American buy-out firm Advent has offered $5 billion for aerospace supplier Cobham. On an almost weekly basis, foreign predators are swooping on one British company after another. But hold on: the UK is meant to be plunging into an economic abyss. A chaotic departure from the European Union, a political system in meltdown and the looming threat of a Marxist hard-left government have made Britain the one country that investors don’t want to touch. To many, the ZAVs — Zimbabwe, Argentina, and Venezuela  — look attractive by comparison. And yet, the flurry of buyouts by foreign firms is not as odd as it may seem.