World leaders pretend

The leaders landed on the moon deserted of almost all life forms, the streets cleansed, people swept aside, strays disposed of, even the pigeons were blow-dried. Who is protecting who? Clearly security is paramount but increasingly world leaders do not want to soil themselves by having contact with that most feared entity, the general public. Appearance is constructed to make them look great in front of their own adoring supporters. Strangely the one exception is Macron, who still squeezes the flesh of the normal public, pictured with babies and the elderly on campaign trails. However, for him two parks will be closed to public, in case, wait for it, he ‘might’ want to go for a run. Why can’t he use a jogging machine? Maybe he might want to swim in the Bosporus are they going to empty it of fish!!! Still, they are being good hosts, cooks for each nation and Turkish delight handed out by each taxi driver. No expenses spared to please the chosen few. My mother used to say even the Queen goes to the toilet to humanise those who think they are above humanity.

Of course, the whole show is aimed to tickle the toes of the bloated ego of the US president. The worst culprit is NATO general secretary Mark Rutte, who sits on his lap staring all gooey eyed pleading love me love me. Even Fifa has allowed him to take over football. The example we are setting for children is, if you are being bullied, give him more sweets.

Each will say please be nice to me Mr President. On the 250th anniversaries of the formation, the founding fathers could not have envisaged such an incompetent and dangerous leader. 

It’s the morning of his arrival and the TV stations are tracking his plane following it in real time, the capital is in shutdown, my mother-in-law informs my wife the council cannot deliver her daily meal today because of Nato.

This is going to take a while to digest, I must be prepared for on coming bullshit. 

It’s now mid-afternoon, people are arriving, being greeted, lots of hellos, it’s like a snapchat group in real time. The main item on the agenda seems to be, at present, leaders of nations buying weapons from other nations to drop on innocent people across the globe.

Both leaders met and declared how much they liked each other from the first moment they met all those years ago and how great they both were. Journalists fielded tough questions like “why they were both so great?” and the first day ended there.

The evening was like a gala event as the leaders and partners, in most cases, entered the only place they were designated to attend, the palace, as if it was a ball. The UK PM cut a lonely figure as he entered alone with only days before he becomes an ex PM. 

Late late at night I flicked through the news channels in the dead of night. A news team was still outside. “They’re still there!” I shouted through to my wife. “They will be there all night!” she shouted back. “Why?” No reply. The next channel had a man with a pointy stick. “He’s got a stick!” I spluttered out, finally she joined me. He was pointing out the interaction between the two leaders circling when he gently helped him, the stills were played in slow motion then a smiling interaction. The presenter who was jumping up and down declared they probably said I’m staying in your place tonight it was like Taylor Swift’s wedding but in political terms. “I guess they could have said that.” She glared at me. “Have I joined the mad people?” I switched it off as he slided on the floor like footballers do. I got under the duvet, take these people away from me.

The day started with Trump complaining that NATO was not behaving like his own private army. By the afternoon the channel that sleeps at the venue and the one with the pointy stick pedal the line that it is a summit about the host nation, a bit about the other president and lots of other nations either carrying their bags or sleeping on the sun-lounges. This is becoming an infernal bore. Late afternoon and all resemblance to a meeting has now vanished. It’s him on loop, praise gushing from the screen wetting our carpet. 

It’s almost over, it has slipped of the international news agenda, the usual is spoken and the delegates are presented with pens hotel match boxes and towels... “Bye, see you again.” “You too, love you.” 

The fantasy world ended for those who were wined and dined, seeing nothing of where they were, they could have been, for all purposes, on the moon. The hoarding boards hiding the truth removed, behind dilapidated houses and the dally struggle to survive continued. But as long as they were looked after and the presidents like each other that’s all that matters… (DM/VK)