What Keir Starmer can learn from ‘little creep’ Harold Wilson in dealing with an angry US president

The Anglo-American “special relationship” has hit a low ebb following American strikes on Iran. US president Donald Trump disparaged British prime minister Keir Starmer with a negative comparison to Winston Churchill, making clear his “disappointment” over British reticence to offer logistical support to the American military.

This is the latest in a series of comments Trump has made about Starmer’s authority on foreign policy concerns – particularly the British return of Diego Garcia to Mauritius.

For his part, Starmer has publicly broken from the president on the matter of Greenland, offering “strong support” to Denmark in response to US threats to take over the territory. In January, when Trump disparaged British troops in Iraq and Afghanistan, Starmer called the remarks “appalling.”. Despite Trump’s attempts on Truth Social to smooth the matter over following a “stern” call from Starmer, one controversial exchange has bled into the next. Trump is understood to be very unhappy that the UK won’t join strikes on Iran. Starmer has stood by his decision and insists it is his duty to decide what action is in “Britain’s national interest,”.

This breakdown in relations between the two heads of state is remarkable – but it is not unprecedented. Britain’s refusal to follow America into a foreign conflict has inflamed tensions before. President Lyndon B Johnson and prime minister Harold Wilson endured a breakdown in the 1960s over Vietnam. The way Wilson handled this situation should be Starmer’s guiding light has he charts his own course on Iran.

Vietnam

The UK did not publicly participate in the Vietnam war. At the time it was searching for a way to join the European single market against French wishes and extricate itself from its military bases in the Arabian Peninsula and Southeast Asia. Wilson was seeking to move away from costly military commitments abroad.

Publicly, Wilson pushed for an end to the war, meeting with the Soviet Union’s Alexei Kosygin to try and move negotiations forward. He backed Johnson when the US agreed to what Wilson called “unconditional negotiations” with North Vietnam in 1966. Behind closed doors, Wilson reiterated his private support for Johnson regularly. He also met with the president to justify British reticence to join the war on several occasions, using trips to Washington as a way of trying to bolster the public image of a strong affiliation.

However, the Wilson and Johnson governments clashed over a number of concerns. Johnson faced criticism in Britain for failing to attend the funeral of Winston Churchill in 1965. LBJ was allegedly so infuriated by the lack of British troop commitment to the war that he called Wilson a “little creep” behind closed doors. The Americans also lamented the weakness of the British pound, as Wilson had it devalued by 14.3% in 1967. This threatened the stability of the US dollar and other western currencies.

The White House began to see Britain as a much less valuable – or stable – ally in the ongoing cold war. The British in return felt pushed to acquiesce to American pressure, while also relying on American support on issues such as Rhodesia, which unilaterally declared independence from the UK in 1965.

With this change in attitude, Johnson turned to other allies for public support. The then Australian prime minister, Harold Holt, went “all the way with LBJ,” joining other Pacific allies in sending troops to fight alongside Americans. Johnson lavished support on them, granting Australia its first state visit by a sitting US president in late 1966.

Conversely, he never visited Britain once. Johnson’s antipathy towards the UK is perhaps best summed up by an act of political disrespect towards Wilson in 1965, when he had the White House band play “Plenty of Nuttin’” at a diplomatic dinner following economic talks – a sarcastic rejoinder for Wilson’s lack of what he deemed proper support.

A third way

Ultimately, the “special relationship” cooled significantly during the Johnson-Wilson era. But despite the sometimes-wretched relations between the two leaders, the connection between the two countries in terms of intelligence sharing, training and support on other matters remained intact. Wilson saw the value of American support, travelling to the United States several times during the 1960s despite criticism from anti-war campaigners and from some in parliament. Wilson’s conciliatory approach is mirrored by Starmer’s attempts to carve a third way over the first year of Trump’s government. Starmer was heavily criticised for inviting Trump to carry out a second state visit – the first US president to receive a return invite.

The situation has changed since then, and the Iran strikes have indeed put pressure on the US-UK relationship. But there is precedent for resistance to American pressure in the Wilson-Johnson relationship. The effects were stark – it was not until Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan were in charge that the relationship truly felt “special” once again – but it endured and thrived again despite what had been a severe clash in personalities.

Trump’s climbdown over the criticisms he made of Nato troops in January shows that the United States still values its British ally to some extent. The prime minister should remember that the relationship will endure long after the current occupants of both the White House and 10 Downing Street leave their respective offices.

Benjamin Quail has received funding from the US-UK Fulbright Commission.