September 8, 2006

After six years of George W. Bush, one would think the average citizen of the once not-entirely-insane Western world would be inured to embarrassment. It can't get worse, correct? Americans weep, Canadians cringe, Brits smirk.

And then along came the latest leaked memo from British PM Tony Blair's office.

Blair is Bush's best friend, or so he says, although Bush seems to regard him as a trainee waiter. Britons were red-faced, sure, but they have such a sense of humour about themselves that at some level they were enjoying Blair's earnest efforts to grovel in the service of the Texas No-Brain.

But this memo sets the baseline for the greatest humiliation Britain has endured since Suez. His own ministers, who had been grudgingly going along with his plan to leave in a year, are openly saying, "Go! Now!" the way you would to a dog that's been crouching on the sidewalk for 3 ½ hours while you hold your little grocery bag.

The five-page memo outlines the manner of Blair's departure from office. Since he fears a knifing in the back à la Margaret Thatcher, he will go, yes, but like a king brandishing his crown, flinging it to the party (but not to his former ally Gordon Brown) like a shotgun bride tossing her bouquet. This snaggle-toothed, pot-bellied, faded rock star is planning a farewell tour. I quote from the memo written by his PR people and leaked to the Guardian this week:

"He needs to go with the crowds wanting more. He should be the star who won't even play that last encore."

There will be a flurry of carefully chosen interviews, TV appearances on

kiddie shows and a TV church hymn recital for the oldies, followed by a national tour. The public must "remember him as he should be," and staff have been instructed to tell everyone how lovable he was, the Guardian reports. The memo trumpets, "His genuine legacy is not the delivery, important though that is, but the dominance of new Labour ideas … the triumph of Blairism."

Ultimate ego trip

This is the ultimate ego trip for a politician: Referring to himself as an "ism."

It would have embarrassed even Mussolini. Even Gen. Augusto Pinochet, the torturer and drug dealer who looted Chile, would have drawn the line at "Pinochetism." All politicians are egotists, with their airplanes and sycophants and hatred of the press, but it's rare to see such an extreme case exposed to public view.

The memo does not say that Iraq has been Blair's biggest disaster since charter schools, prison overcrowding, proclaiming a new crime for almost every day he spent in office (3,000, I'm not joking), shooting a non-terrorist in the head six times, privatizing water and railways, the Millennium Dome — I shan't go on.

It says, "We need to incorporate [Iraq] into our media plan. It's the elephant in the room [;] let's face up to it."

Blair will visit schools and hospitals (where people have grown measurably stupider and sicker since his election in 1997); visit the 20 oddest-looking buildings erected since his election (hi, Big Gherkin); tour six cities outside London (lovely Leeds, the Kabul of the north); visit Wales and Scotland (naff off, nasty man) and give monthly interviews to foreign news outlets to gloss his international standing (Architectural Digest, Oprah's mag, Toronto's Cheap Eats).

The British print media are shrieking with joy and disgust.

Parody interview

The satirist Armando Iannucci conducted a parody interview with Blair. Iannucci's questions to Blair began with "What plans have you got for the future?" and descended into "Are these the ravings of a sun-dried lunatic?"; "How do you mean, you mental imp?"; "I'd say it was probably best for everyone if I killed you now"; "Your point being, Sod Creature?"; "I really am going to kill you now", and ending with "Can you put your head on my lap while I worship it with this hammer?"

Will Blair's Greatest Hits tour drag on? Or will the Labour Party rid themselves of this pompous, self-loving authoritarian menace, grimly envisioning two decades of exile as David Cameron's Tories rule the land?

Decide, please. I have been boycotting my beloved Britain since around 1998. England didn't form me; studying English literature did, but I couldn't stand the place any more. I think it was the slogan "Tough on crime, tough on the causes of crime" that made me say "The land of Shakespeare shall see me no more. France will I visit now and partake of its fine wines, its steak frites and bonbons." I am a lefty who was reduced to pointing out that even Thatcher didn't repeal the Magna Carta. I became a fan of the senior judiciary who kept telling Blair not to mess with habeas corpus. Me. A judge-lover.

Britain has lived through terrible times. Now comes drought followed by flooding. People will paddle to work. Or to prison, which is more likely unless Cameron lifts Blair Law.

But I will be there for you, plucky little Britain. I will shop at Hatchard's and the London Review of Books' new shop. Many sweaters will I purchase at Fenwick's of Bond Street. I shall visit Vanessa Bell's house and Churchill's grave. Every night shall find me in a House of Curry.

Call it my Glad to Be Back Tour. Get moving, glorious Old Labour Party. Your country needs me.