It wasn’t quite the Pyramid stage. When the queen, the pope, Nelson Mandela and Barack Obama were invited to address both houses of parliament, they were given Westminster Hall. On the first state visit of any European leader since Brexit, Emmanuel Macron had to make do with the Royal Gallery. The UK has been on quite the journey since Liz Truss was unable to identify the French president as friend or foe.
Still, the Royal Gallery is not a bad second-best. Indeed, if Donald Trump gets a similar invitation – in doubt, as everyone is trying to avoid that possibility by staging his visit in parliamentary recess – he might even prefer it. Enough gold paint and gilt to satisfy any simple narcissist.
We Britons know the way to foreign leaders’ hearts. Just try to persuade Manu not to look too closely to the sides. On the left, an enormous painting of Nelson’s death at Trafalgar. To the right, an equally large daub of Wellington and Prussian field marshal Blücher meeting before the Battle of Waterloo. Awkward.
More than an hour before the start of the event, the room was already half full. The organisers of similar events for other foreign leaders in the same venue have had to go scurrying around the parliamentary estate looking for extras to fill the rows of seats when peers and MPs decided they couldn’t be bothered to turn up. No such problem with Macron. Manu is box office.
One of the first to arrive was Priti Patel. Awarded a front row seat. Though not looking as if the entente cordiale had reached her yet. She still dreams of slashing small boats with knives.
Kemi Badenoch and Ed Davey found themselves seated next to each other and facing 45 minutes to fill with small talk. Both abandoned any pretence of civility early on and sat mostly in silence. Kemi soon turned round and started chatting to Helen Whately.
Theresa May made her entrance in her usual way: alone. She seems to prefer things that way. She doesn’t do close friendships in parliament. Or perhaps anywhere. She prefers to sit alone and be left to her own thoughts. None of them probably good. A French accent is enough to cause a meltdown. She still has PTSD from the Brexit negotiations.
There was no sign of Nigel Farage. The Reform UK leader had been outraged that Macron had declined to meet him. Odd, that. Nige spends a lifetime slagging off France, the French and the French president, and then is deeply shocked to discover that Macron has better things to do with his three days in England than be abused.
Still, there was nothing stopping Nige from coming to hear the president. Except his pride, of course. Never forget that. Also missing was the newly independent James McMurdock. After meeting his lawyers, Young James has concluded that the best way to prove his innocence of wrongdoing over Covid loans is to say nothing further at all.
Next the bad news. The House of Lords doorkeeper grabbed the microphone to announce that Macron was running about 15 minutes late. Either he had had too good a lunch with the king or the traffic had been heavier than anticipated. An overheated packed room suddenly felt a whole lot more stifling. A few lords were already struggling to stay awake. And that was before Lindsay Hoyle had even started making the introductions. The speaker sure knows how to lose a crowd.
When Macron eventually did turn up, Hoyle appeared to imagine that everyone had come to see him. So he started droning on about his favourite subjects: himself and rugby league, for the best part of a quarter of an hour. And when he did go off topic, his main theme was how often the English had bailed out the French in the 20th century. Macron tried to appear interested. His wife, Brigitte, remained inscrutable. She’s clearly perfected her face for sitting through events like this. Several more lords began to nod off.
At last it was time for Macron. And he didn’t disappoint. Even if he did go on a bit long, as well. I guess opportunities like this come along once in a lifetime. So you might as well make the most of it.
Speaking in an English that was infinitely better than most Britons’ French, he began in style, with references to Montesquieu, Rousseau and Locke. You can’t imagine too many British politicians trying something like that. Then the thanks, the honour bestowed and the obligatory shoutout to Winston Churchill. Still a crowd-pleaser, even though he’s been dead for 60 years.
On to the substance. Ukraine, the Coalition of the Willing. France and the UK were leading the European drive for peace and security. Keir Starmer nodded along. Less so when Manu got to the Middle East and called for everyone to recognise the state of Palestine. That’s still a bridge too far for the British government.
Having moved around the rest of the world in the search for peace, Macron turned his attention to climate change. We must see off the deniers, he said. He could have started in the Royal Gallery, as Toby Young was in attendance. Perhaps he, too, had nodded off by that point.
After a brief drive-by on immigration – we must treat it with humanity, fairness and solidarity, he said – we got to Brexit. He regretted it. But the UK was entitled to make its own mistakes. He looked May in the eye and confessed that he had enjoyed the Brexit negotiations immensely. This tipped the Maybot over the edge. Her flashbacks uncontrollable.
Finally we got the big reveal. The French were going to lend us the Bayeux tapestry. And we were going to lend them the Sutton Hoo longboat in return. Good luck with your small boat crossings in that. Still, it was about as close to a one in, one out deal Starmer was likely to get from this state visit.