POLITICS

And what, pray, does all this have to do with the American administration?

BORIS JOHNSON

Last weekend, the Irish foreign minis- ter, Mr Dick Spring, paced the lawn at Martha's Vineyard in discussion with Presi- dent Clinton. Their subject was the fate of British citizens living in the British Isles. No British minister was present, no ambas- sador, not even a civil servant. Mr Clinton has also, symmetrically, been in contact with the Unionists to reassure them that there will be no 'sell-out' of their interests in pursuance of the IRA ceasefire.

What part of this Kingdom, MPs have asked themselves in wonderment, does Mr Clinton possess that he is able to sell out? Since when has it been Mr Clinton's responsibility to decide whether there will be a sell-out of anything in Britain? The arrival of Mr Gerry Adams in Dublin on Tuesday may have been premature; but the visit to Shannon next day of Mr Al Gore, US Vice-president, is baffling. The whole American involvement in the affair gets so far up the nose of some Tory MPs that they can barely speak, and it is diffi- cult to blame them. When Mr Nick Bud- gen this week silkily enjoined Mr Clinton to 'push off, this writer, for one, felt an urge to cheer.

What is Britain, then? Some debtor state to be chivvied around like Paraguay? Admiral Crowe, the new ambassador to London, met Jim Molyneaux, the Ulster Unionist leader on the Thursday of last week, I am reliably informed, to keep him abreast of Bill and Hillary's intentions. Mr Tony Lake, the National Security Council Adviser, has been on the blower to the Unionists, spreading more reassurances to British citizens about the state of affairs that will obtain in the future in part of the United Kingdom.

Where do these Americans come in? What is their locus standi? On the face of it, Britain is being treated like Israel, a coun- try with which America enjoys long-stand- ing and important ties of kinship, but which must now be brought into line for the sake of world peace and Mr Clinton's reputation for foreign policy.

'We're weaker in the face of American pressure than we have been for some time,' is the view of one Tory, delivered with a certain gloomy relish. It is an assessment of Britain which delights the masochistic, self- deprecating tendency. Seen from abroad, say, Paris or The Hague, a capital where the IRA enjoys particularly keen support, Britain is just one of two sides locked in a psychotic tribal struggle which they have lost the power to end themselves.

It seems quite reasonable to our Euro- pean 'part- ners' that Washington should knock heads together. But for most Tory MPs it is, understandably, galling that this country should even appear to be dancing on a string pulled by a pair of puffy-faced dissimulators such as Clinton and Sen. Edward Kennedy. They seethe as they think of those cheerful, deluded denizens of Irish bars in New York, with their curi- ous misapprehensions about the relative population of Catholics and Protestants in the province, passing the hat round for the gunmen — and so do we all.

Some MPs say we are forced into this position of subservience to Washington by our diminished position in the world. On this view, the British are so desperate to remain the fulus Achates, the loyal lieu- tenant in the weakening Atlantic alliance, that they will devour any amount of humble pie. One MP even thinks that Mr Clinton's recent Berlin speech, where he said that Germany was now America's prime partner in Europe, was a coded warning to Britain to get into line over Ulster.

The reality may be quite otherwise. Per- haps Britain is not really having its arm twisted by Mr Clinton, but only pretending to be. It may be that some specious appear- ance of American mediation is needed; a vital part of the theatrics of negotiation when the two sides have so much to lose by being seen to talk to each other.

But if that is the case, it should be made clear, if only for the sake of British morale. It is important to know whether we are marching towards a change in the constitu- tion of the United Kingdom entirely of our own volition. For there must now be a rea- sonable chance — some put it as high as 50-50 — that someone will in the long run be able to claim credit for a historic break- through.

No one doubts that on most definitions the result will be a 'sell-out'. The selling began with the Downing Street Declaration on 16 December. It is hard to imagine Mr Major, he who championed the Union in the 1992 election campaign, saying that London had no 'selfish, strategic or eco- nomic interest' in Scotland, for instance. No one doubts that there have been covert talks with Sinn Fein and the IRA. One MP, an enthusiast for the process, mused: 'I wonder whether the Government knows what it has taken on, whether it is aware that British sovereignty will never be the same again?'

Mr Major's strategy has been, so far, sound. From now on, any party failing to give ground will be accused of endangering the ceasefire. Sooner or later there will be an amendment to the 'offensive' section 75 of the 1920 Government of Ireland Act, that part which bangs on, in a manner which rankles in Dublin, about sovereign- ty.

There may be a rebellion from those few on the Tory backbenches, perhaps ten or so, who for reasons of vendetta or principle oppose what is coming. But they will take their cue from Mr Molyneaux; and he knows that it is always better to have the Tories in power than to fall prey to the nationalism of Labour and Mr Kevin McNamara.

Someone then, as I say, has a fair chance, though by no means a guarantee, of being covered with glory in the coming months and years. It may be optimistic to say, as one Tory backbencher puts it, that Mr Major is now in 'a Nobel peace prize situa- tion here' (bethink thee of that, Mr Blair). But I would guess I speak for many when I say that what we do not want is a scene, of any kind, on the White House lawn. If the Americans choose to give money, or raise 'peace bonds', that is their affair. But the prospect of handshakes with Mr Clinton causes a constriction in the throat.

In the old days, those who felt indignant at American meddlesomeness in Ulster would satirically suggest sending weapons to native Americans, perhaps to encourage the Seminole to retake Miami. That may seem unnecessarily aggressive. But in view of Mr Clinton's decision to allow another grim-faced Brit-killer called Joe Cahill to have a visa to whip up further support in Washington, and promises yet another visa for Adams, some kind of retaliation is in order. I realise that Mr Al Gore in theory requires no British visa for his visits to northern Ireland. But it would be nice if some immigration difficulty could be found for him: if only to show that we are not mr Clinton's stooges.

Boris Johnson is on the staff of the Daily Telegraph.