“Taiwan, Mr Moan!”
Eva paused and then, using the karate Nami Gaeshi throw in its attacking form, propelled the founder of the British United National Kingdom Party (BUNK) across the lounge of their Mayfair penthouse with a move that made Will Smith’s Oscar slap on Chris Rock seem like a village tea party jest.
“And stop staring at the pictures of Jade Pinkett Smith!” ordered the former Russian Olympic shot put champion, Eva Brick. She picked up her political mentor, sat him down on the settee and gave him a hug.
It’s The Economy, Stupid!
“Mr Moanie,” she gestured. “You are on your way to the greatest election victory of all time.” She handed him a medical cloth which he used to wipe his face. “In May 2024, BUNK will storm the polling stations and the people will sweep Mr Moan into power.” She sat down by her partner. “Horace and Rishi will have torn each other into shreds as inflation ravages peoples’ pockets and, although of questionable morals, Bill Clinton called it right: ‘it’s the economy, stupid.’
Mr Moan clung to her as he asked Eva to repeat the question. She leaped up and completed a series of aerial cartwheels using the Hatohiru emphasis which she had mastered on the island of Kyushu.
“Mr Moanie,” she said. “I asked you to define the greatest threat to your reign as Prime Minister. She sighed. “You have offered me three answers: President Macron, Prince Andrew and Laura Kuenssberg.” She leaped up and stamped her foot. “Mr Moanie, the answer is Taiwan.”
She reached for the bowl of her daily nutrition and started to crack open the walnuts. She threw the utensil into the air when Mr Moan admitted he did not know where Taiwan was. Then she went over to the table and returned with a map of the world pointing to an island on the north side of the South China Sea.
“It’s near Hong Kong,” said the future Prime Minister. “I’ll make it my first overseas trip.”
“Mr Moan,” continued Eva. “Taiwan is known as The Republic of China and used to be called Formosa. It is not recognised by the United Nations which accepts the People’s Republic of China (PRC) as representative of mainland China. They want the old Formosa back.”
“So what’s the problem, Eva?”asked Mr Moan. “Surely I need to worry about the migrants pouring across the English channel?”
“The problem, Mr Moan,” continued the student of British politics, “is that America is guaranteeing the independence of Taiwan. President Obama sent billions of dollars of armaments to the island.”
Mr Moan sighed. “It’s a long way away. I’ll let Sleepy Joe worry about that.”
Eva stretched her frame. “It’s not that easy, Mr Moan,” she advised and she read him a letter which had been published in ‘The Times’. The writer was a former British Rear Admiral who had been director of nuclear policy. He was suggesting that the Russian invasion of Ukraine had shown up the increasing risk of war between the nuclear-armed superpowers. In his view the real flashpoint will be Taiwan because China has made it clear that it intends forcing democratic Taiwan back into its totalitarian regime.
Mr Moan stood up and showed his grasp of geopolitics. “I think I’ll let them get on with it, Eva,” he summarised.
“But Mr Moanie,” she cried as she slumped back onto the settee. “America is guaranteeing the security of Taiwan and the Rear Admiral is suggesting that one way of defeating the Chinese aggression is to threaten to use nuclear weapons.”
“Phew, that’s potentially dangerous,” said Mr Moan.
China is Reluctant
“The Rear Admiral is more sagacious than that, Mr Moanie,” gasped Eva. “He suggests that Taiwan should resurrect its nuclear weapons development programme which the United States persuaded it to abandon in the 1980s.” She paused. “He thinks that China would be reluctant to risk precipitating a localised nuclear war.”
Mr Moan stood up. “Eva, “ he instructed. “Call a press conference. It’s time that I announce a major policy development. BUNK will guarantee the independence of Taiwan, call for it to become a nuclear power and save the world from self-destruction.”
“Horace will be furious that he did not think of it, Mr Moan,” laughed Eva.
“Oh no, Eva, Horace will be true to form. He’ll blame someone else. Pity, Miz Rust was looking quite a strong leadership contender.”
Eva hugged her mentor.
“Mr Moan,” she cried. “You are going to be the greatest Prime Minister of all time.”