As war rages on in the Middle East in what some are already calling the “Third Gulf War”, Keir Starmer finds himself between a rock and a hard place, facing criticism from both sides of the political spectrum regarding his response to Iran. On the right, the likes of Nigel Farage and Kemi Badenoch think that the Prime Minister has been too hesitant and should be doing more to both help the US and Israel, along with protecting our own interests. Simultaneously, the likes of Jeremy Corbyn and Zack Polanski on the left see his approach as being too hawkish and dragging us into an “illegal war” echoing Iraq.
One cannot be a pacifist and a warmonger at the same time. So what is it about Starmer’s Iran response that has sent critics, right wing and left wing, into such a frenzy? The answer to this question lies in the uncomfortable reality that Starmer’s position is neither pacifist nor hawkish, but something far less satisfying to recent political discourse: nuanced. But then again current discourse, especially on social media, rewards the most polarising and one-dimensional soundbites.
We know that Starmer initially refused requests to use British airbases as a launchpad for US-Israeli strikes that triggered the latest escalation. Since then, however, the situation changed rapidly once the conflict started. It was only when Iranian retaliation began to threaten British personnel and interests, including a drone strike on RAF Akrotiri in Cyprus, that the Prime Minister later allowed the US limited access to UK bases like Diego Garcia for defensive purposes.
The distinction which many seem to miss is vital. Starmer did not allow British assets to be used in the initial offensive that ignited this conflict. Instead he gave permission only once Iranian retaliation began to directly implicate Britain in spite of us not being involved in the attack that Iran sought to respond to. In other words, what some might portray as a contradiction or U-turn is better understood as a response to events and circumstances changing in real-time. In an age of hyper-polarised politics and headline-driven debate, distinctions like this are easily lost. Yet they are exactly the kinds of judgements responsible foreign policy requires and which Starmer appears to have made.
There is most definitely a historical precedent shaping Starmer’s response. The memory of the Iraq War still looms over British foreign policy and especially the Labour Party, a reminder of the damage that can follow when Britain joins an American-led military intervention with no clear end. Also, his response is quite reminiscent of Harold Wilson’s refusal to commit UK troops during the Vietnam War, instead choosing to offer diplomatic and political support to the US while keeping Britain out of direct military involvement.
Starmer’s position rests on a belief that we should have a unique foreign policy that is mindful and wary of fully entering open-ended conflicts while also recognising, as Wilson did, that alliance with the US does not require automatic military entanglement. With this in mind, Starmer’s approach is not unprecedented but it is instead a product of key lessons in modern British foreign policy. Starmer responsibly treads a careful line as he takes defensive action for Britain and its allies in order to maintain key regional relationships while not fully crossing any lines that bring us into more direct forms of conflict with Iran that could put national security at a much greater risk.
In an era of political extremes, especially online, where every crisis has to be reduced to a binary choice between action or inaction, Starmer’s approach to the Middle East crisis may not appear the flashiest nor the most headline-grabbing. Responsible statecraft rarely makes for viral headlines and can appear unsatisfying but this is exactly what we need in this precarious time: navigating the need to maintain, rather than abandon, key relationships, while keeping British security and interests firmly in view.
