In the Knopf edition of Tony Blair's A Journey: My Political Life, the opening sentence is: "America's burden is that it wants to be loved, but knows it can't be." Presumably, this introduction is an add-on to support publication of the book in the United States, where the book is a bestseller. But as I read A Journey, I was repeatedly reminded of two books about Blair that PublicAffairs published in his tenure as prime minister.
The first, by BBC commentator James Naughtie, was called The Accidental American: Tony Blair and the Presidency (2004), which like its title makes the case that Blair, by instinct, style, and circumstance, had an association with American presidents that was unlike that of any of his modern predecessors. The second book, by the British writer William Shawcross, was The Allies: The U.S., Britain, Europe and the War in Iraq (also 2004). It was, essentially, a defense of Blair's support of the American invasion of Iraq, despite growing evidence (finally conclusive) that the British public and even some of his closest advisers thought he was making a serious mistake.
In A Journey, and in articles and speeches over the years, Blair argues that September 11 reshaped the world and that it was essential for Britain to stand with the United States in challenging the dangers of Islamist extremism. Blair and Bush conflated the belief that Saddam Hussein's weapons of mass destruction inevitably included a partnership of some sort with al Qaeda. We now know that was not, in fact, an immediate danger. Yet Blair's sense of the compelling need to join the United States in meeting the security threat posed by Saddam, al Qaeda, and Islamist terrorism is--for American readers, at least--the central message of the book.
The reviews of A Journey in the American media have, not surprisingly, focused on Blair's defense of his Iraq policies and actions. But this is a much more expansive memoir than that subject, and very substantial parts of the book, as well-written and eloquent as they may be, will be of little interest to Americans unless they are captivated by the intricacies of British political machinations. But this issue of Blair's affinity for the United States and its significance for our political era is worth considering on its own merits. As far back, at least, as Winston Churchill, there has been a periodic British reconsideration of what is known as "the special relationship" between the United States, a unique engagement that is unlike any other American alliance.
Having lived in the United Kingdom for four years in the 1960s and
1980s, I can say with certainty that the extent of "the special
relationship" means much more to the British than it does to Americans,
given the breadth and range of U.S. global interests. But there is a
legitimate intimacy between these two countries that includes a sharing
of national security information. And at the softer end of the
relationship spectrum, there is a cultural sensibility that is
distinctly complementary, and less of an American one-way export than is
true with its relations with much of the rest of the world.