Every foreign policy decision involves a gamble of some kind — a bet that the benefits of a particular course of action will outweigh its costs. Britain’s decision to initially withhold cooperation from the United States over Iran was a gamble that, by most assessments, did not pay off.
The calculation behind the decision appeared to be that the domestic political benefits — avoiding opposition from Labour MPs uncomfortable with military involvement — outweighed the diplomatic costs of friction with Washington. It was a calculation that made a certain amount of sense in isolation, but did not survive contact with the reality of American presidential reaction.
The president’s public criticism was more damaging than any internal Labour dissent could have been. It put the prime minister in the uncomfortable position of being seen to have failed his country’s most important ally, while the domestic political benefits of the initial refusal proved elusive. Critics of the government were quick to argue that he had got the worst of both worlds.
The eventual reversal — granting limited access for defensive purposes — was an attempt to limit the damage, but it arrived alongside the president’s dismissal of the UK’s offer of further assistance as no longer necessary. The timing could hardly have been worse.
The episode offered a sobering lesson about the risks of trying to satisfy competing domestic and international audiences simultaneously — and about the speed with which diplomatic situations can move beyond the control of even experienced governments.