‘They attempt to assassinate Donald Trump – so why are we sending King Charles to face subsequent to him?’

“As America rolls out the red carpet, Britain is sending King Charles as a diplomatic doormat for a man who despises us, while pretending the security risk is manageable and the reward is real”

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Let us be absolutely clear about what is happening here. As King Charles and the Queen fly to the US, British and American security teams are not simply polishing schedules and motorcades, they are asking a far more basic question: is this safe enough to go ahead?

Think about that. Our monarch. And “safe enough” is the bar.

The honest answer, when stripped of diplomatic niceties, is no. Not physically. Not politically. Not in any way that should give comfort to a country sending its Head of State into the orbit of Donald Trump. Because, following the White House Correspondents Dinner on Saturday, during which an armed man tried to take out Trump, this is not just about one man being a target. It is about proximity to him, turning everyone nearby into one.

OPINION

Christopher Bucktin

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Trump is not a conventional political figure. He is a lightning rod. Deeply polarising, fiercely loved by some, viscerally despised by others. That is not abstract. It has already translated into real-world violence. And in that environment, anyone standing beside the US president – sharing a platform, a stage, a motorcade – becomes part of the risk. That includes the King.

Security services can harden perimeters, lock down streets, sweep venues and plan every movement down to the second. But they cannot neutralise the fundamental truth in a country awash with millions of guns: when a figure is as divisive as Trump, the threat does not sit neatly with him alone. It radiates outwards.

It spreads to those in the room. Those in the convoy. Those shaking hands for the cameras. Collateral.

So what exactly are we sending the King into? America’s political climate is febrile, volatile and deeply unstable. The events of recent days have only underlined that.

This week’s State visit is no longer a standard diplomatic engagement dressed up with ceremony. It is a visit unfolding in the shadow of an attempted assassination – a stark reminder that the unthinkable is no longer theoretical.

And still we press on. For what? To flatter a man who has repeatedly denigrated Britain, questioned its global standing and even entertained claims that the Falkland Islands should be Argentinian. Sovereign British territory reduced to a talking point, and yet we roll out the King regardless.

It is submission dressed up as diplomacy.

Yes, there is a long tradition of royal visits easing tensions. Soft power has its place. But soft power cannot come at any cost and certainly not at the expense of basic judgment. Because this is no longer a relationship of equals. This is Britain contorting itself to accommodate a leader who offers respect only when it suits him.

We all know how this plays out. Warm words while the King is on American soil. Smiles for the cameras. Handshakes and toasts. And then, the moment the monarch disappears from view, the tone shifts. The criticism returns. The sniping resumes. The same old pattern.

Now add Iran to the equation. Britain has not backed Trump’s reckless and legally questionable posture. That alone makes this visit more precarious, not less. Are we expecting goodwill, or are we simply delaying the inevitable?

And through all of this runs the most serious concern: the physical risk. Because no amount of planning can eliminate the danger of proximity. No security ring is absolute. No intelligence picture is perfect.

And when the stakes involve the monarch, “manageable risk” in a country so saturated in firearms should not be a phrase any government is comfortable using.

Which leaves a deeper, more uncomfortable truth. By going ahead, Britain is not just taking a risk; it is sending a signal. That no matter how volatile, how divisive, how openly hostile to allies a leader becomes, the King can still be dispatched.

That normalises something that should not be normal.

None of this reflects on Charles himself. He will do what he always does: serve with dignity, restraint and an unshakeable sense of duty. But that is precisely why this decision is so troubling.

Because his presence will be used. As theatre. As endorsement. As proof that all is well, when clearly it is not. And that is a risk we should never have taken.