
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


Keir Starmer chose silence after Trump’s Venezuela invasion - and permanently destroyed his credibility on international law. Right, so Keir Starmer has just volunteered Britain for permanent irrelevance. Donald Trump removed Nicolás Maduro from Venezuela by force, and the British prime minister responded by waiting for Trump’s press conference to offer a response to it, as if the law only switches on once Washington has finished talking. That pause wasn’t prudence. It was submission, performed slowly and blatantly in public, by a man who keeps advertising himself as a human rights lawyer, yet can watch international law get dumped without so much as a squeak. This isn’t a one-off lapse and it isn’t about a bad day at the office. You’ve seen this move before. Law shouted from the rooftops when it’s safe, law whispered into a cushion when it points at allies, and a sudden obsession with “process” when naming the breach might cost something. Starmer recognised what had happened, recognised who had done it, and chose to look away. No other conclusion can possibly make sense. So now he owns the consequences for his weakness, and every word he says about international law carries the same problem: no one believes he’ll use it when it actually bites. Right, so Keir Starmer watched Donald Trump remove Nicolás Maduro from power in Venezuela and he did nothing that could plausibly be called independent judgement. He did not object, he did not name the breach, and he did not even pretend to assess legality on his own terms. He waited, publicly, for Trump’s press conference, which is to say he waited for the perpetrator to decide how the act should be described before deciding whether the law still applied. That choice wasn’t confusion and it wasn’t caution. It was deference, and it fixed everything that followed. Starmer did not need clarification. A sitting head of state had been forcibly removed by a foreign power, sovereignty had been overridden, and control had shifted by force. A lawyer does not need a press podium to recognise that. A former Director of Public Prosecutions does not need a briefing to understand what international law does with that kind of act. Starmer understood it immediately, which is precisely why he stalled. He wasn’t deciding what had happened.
By Damien WilleyKeir Starmer chose silence after Trump’s Venezuela invasion - and permanently destroyed his credibility on international law. Right, so Keir Starmer has just volunteered Britain for permanent irrelevance. Donald Trump removed Nicolás Maduro from Venezuela by force, and the British prime minister responded by waiting for Trump’s press conference to offer a response to it, as if the law only switches on once Washington has finished talking. That pause wasn’t prudence. It was submission, performed slowly and blatantly in public, by a man who keeps advertising himself as a human rights lawyer, yet can watch international law get dumped without so much as a squeak. This isn’t a one-off lapse and it isn’t about a bad day at the office. You’ve seen this move before. Law shouted from the rooftops when it’s safe, law whispered into a cushion when it points at allies, and a sudden obsession with “process” when naming the breach might cost something. Starmer recognised what had happened, recognised who had done it, and chose to look away. No other conclusion can possibly make sense. So now he owns the consequences for his weakness, and every word he says about international law carries the same problem: no one believes he’ll use it when it actually bites. Right, so Keir Starmer watched Donald Trump remove Nicolás Maduro from power in Venezuela and he did nothing that could plausibly be called independent judgement. He did not object, he did not name the breach, and he did not even pretend to assess legality on his own terms. He waited, publicly, for Trump’s press conference, which is to say he waited for the perpetrator to decide how the act should be described before deciding whether the law still applied. That choice wasn’t confusion and it wasn’t caution. It was deference, and it fixed everything that followed. Starmer did not need clarification. A sitting head of state had been forcibly removed by a foreign power, sovereignty had been overridden, and control had shifted by force. A lawyer does not need a press podium to recognise that. A former Director of Public Prosecutions does not need a briefing to understand what international law does with that kind of act. Starmer understood it immediately, which is precisely why he stalled. He wasn’t deciding what had happened.