Don’t let protesting Trump distract you from the fact that our government is no better

Even at the best of times, Britain has no reason to be on its high horse in relation to America, and this week in particular we should be hanging our heads in shame

A Trump baby balloon is fun, but beneath the indignation lies something which feels more like self-righteous mocking (PA)

As if this week hasn’t already been exciting enough, we have Donald Trump’s long-awaited visit to look forward to on Friday. After chickening out of his previous scheduled trip to the UK in January, he’s now decided to bite the bullet and pop on over, despite mass protests scheduled for his arrival.

It’s easy to get caught up in the theatrics of it all – Trump himself is prone to a spot of amateur dramatics, as evidenced on Monday by the reality TV-style manner in which he unveiled his Supreme Court appointee, missing only a drumroll accompanying “and the winner is…!” which he presumably only refrained from after a long-suffering staffer gently explained why it was inappropriate.

A Trump baby balloon is fun and the protests are a worthy display of the public’s outrage at his horrific ideology and cruel policies, but beneath the indignation lies something more akin to self-righteous mocking. Since Trump was elected it seems every other country on the planet is pointing and laughing, like school bullies in a playground ganging up at the kid who got picked last for sports team.

Trump’s election reinforced our prejudiced views of the American public (less dangerous but no less unfair than Trump’s ignorant presumptions about Mexicans or Muslims or women, by the way): that they are a bunch of redneck gun evangelists with no culture nor history, who have never left the country and whose individualism prevents them from comprehending empathy.

The truth is that only 55 per cent of those eligible voted in the 2016 election, meaning that just over a quarter of the population elected Trump. That's far less than the 37 per cent of people in the UK who voted for Brexit – an equally uninformed, greedy, terrifyingly nationalistic choice.

While the fallout of the Brexit vote rumbles on in the background, involving complex geopolitics, contradictory stats and opaque headlines about “summits” and “White Papers” that most of us don’t fully understand, Trump’s complete incompetence is conveniently presented in the almost daily absurdity of his egotistical tweets, inconsistent policies and downright lies, which become easily digestible soundbites for the rest of us to share incessantly.

Even at the best of times, Britain has no reason to be on its high horse in relation to America for anything much. Yes, they have their weird gun fetish, but they also have a powerful grassroots movement spawned by young activists which is pushing for change. Granted, their healthcare system is utter insanity which leads to seriously injured people begging onlookers to not call an ambulance because they can’t afford it, but before we get all high and mighty about the evils of their privatised medical industry, we might want want to look at the newly appointed health secretary, who looks to have accepted £32,000 from a think tank who wants to dismantle the NHS. Looks like privilege and wealth speak the language of power on both sides of the Atlantic.

At least Trump’s child separation policy was short-lived and swiftly reversed, whereas May staunchily refuses to roll back her “hostile environment” which led to the shameful treatment of the Windrush generation.

But never mind all that, because "football’s coming home", I hear. Although it’s not really, because football is actually Scottish and I'm pretty sure it's actually going to Qatar, but far be it for me to try and make sense of sports chants. The point is, we’re a nation of very easily distractible voters, that’s for sure.

Regardless though, this is hardly the week for us to be throwing shade at how another country runs its government – we should be hanging our heads in shame. Theresa May is shedding cabinet ministers like she’s a Pomeranian getting a blow dry, the pound has plummeted, the EU is basically giving us the living embodiment of the facepalm emoji and all the while our own Etonian, floppy haired version of Trump is presumably rubbing his hands in the backbenches plotting a coup to become prime minister. Anyone who thinks Boris Johnson doesn’t stand a chance clearly didn’t get the memo that nothing is too outlandishly absurd for global politics in 2018. It wouldn’t surprise me if Mike Pence’s UK counterpart Jacob Rees-Mogg, who shares his penchant for banging on about religion as though it were an excuse for trying to end women’s rights to bodily autonomy, wound up as his deputy either.

Meanwhile the RAF spent £8m on having little aeroplanes fly around for shits and giggles and I have yet to see a single report on the environmental impact of such a display of national egotism, because we’re all looking the other way and focusing our efforts on what Trump is or isn’t doing.

While we’re all busy marching against a man who has little power over the UK’s future, we’re ignoring the fact that after two years there is still no clear plan on Brexit. The “crashing out” alternative is becoming increasingly likely – and no less terrifying – by the day.

By all means criticise Trump and call out those who voted for him, and if it makes you feel better to join the throng in central London wearing a pussy hat, knock yourself out – I know I will. But let’s not fall into the trap of thinking we’re in some way superior just because our prime minister is a bit less mad on Twitter.