If London’s newest but short-lived Underground station — “Gareth Southgate” — highlights one British idiosyncrasy, that monument to the Raj, the Durbar Court of the old India Office, illumines another. It inspired Boris Johnson with a vision as poignant as the apostle Paul’s on the road to Damascus. Both testify to the enviable British ability to proclaim victory in the jaws of defeat.
This is most dramatically illustrated by what Anglo-Saxon history books laud as the “Miracle of Dunkirk” in the summer of 1940. I have a childhood memory of my mother wondering how anyone could possibly boast of a mad scramble to run away from the enemy. But the British did so with pride and, as television programmes nearly 80 years later testify, still do so. Other nations would have been ashamed of a panic-stricken flight. For Winston Churchill, however, the British evacuation of France was a “miracle of deliverance”.
There have been gains since then to compensate for France’s Cup. No one has suggested 12 Thai boys deliberately got stranded in a waterlogged cave to await the gallantry of intrepid British divers and potholers. But only jealous rivals accuse England captain and Golden Boot winner Harry Kane of what is called “stat-padding” which insinuates flat-track bullying and scoring against sub-standard opposition. Vietnamese basa can still be served as English cod in fish and chips when Mrs May stalks out of the European Fisheries Control Agency.
Trade is the touchstone. Crawford Falconer, Britain’s chief international trade negotiator, claims the whole world is “begging” to trade with Britain. But Donald Tusk dismissed Mrs May’s plan for “managed divergence” from the European Union as “cherry-picking”. The other Donald — Trump — ruled that the Chequers Brexit strategy had ruled out a US-Britain trade deal. Narendra Modi’s demand for visas in return for trade dealt the unkindest cut of all.
Britain hasn’t forgotten the lost jewel in the crown. Mrs May may not suffer from excessive historical sensitivity but Johnson writes he went into the Durbar Court on his first day as foreign secretary. Standing in that ornate marble monument to imperial glory, he was dazzled by a spectacular vision that forces him to fight for the prime ministerial crown.
Britain is deliberately trying to exorcise the past the Durbar Court symbolises. It used to be stressed that the building’s four doors were for four Indian princes of equal rank to enter simultaneously without yielding an inch of precedence. No one mentions any Indian link nowadays. They say Britain once entertained the Sultan of Turkey in the Durbar Court’s mock-oriental magnificence.