AT A TIME when divorce is evidently getting easier and more lucrative, it is touching to see one couple soldiering on despite their domestic difficulties. Admittedly this “marriage” is between two men, which would raise eyebrows (and possibly shotguns) in the senior partner’s native Texas. It is, though, the family of the other partner that remains most shocked, mortified indeed, by the enduring liaison. All of which was revealed last week when Tony Blair met George W. Bush in Washington. To some, nothing else during the Prime Minister’s time at No 10 has seemed so surreal.

And not only does the Labour Party feel betrayed and humiliated by the spectacle of Mr Blair and Mr Bush in action. So do the Democrats. How, they ask, could a politician of the Centre-Left turn so effortlessly from the embrace of Bill Clinton to a redneck Republican equivalent of Vlad the Impaler?

Hence the cynicism over what was sold as the “swansong summit”. Two deeply unpopular leaders seeking solace in each other, both dragged down by a conflict in Iraq that one of them did not have to start and the other was under no obligation to approve. It is a morality tale of sorts — and a rather traditional one at that; a warning against tying the knot with someone who is disapproved of by your kith and kin.

Yet I, for one, am prepared to defend this unorthodox romance. The attacks on Mr Blair for his dealings with Mr Bush are based on a false nostalgia for the Clinton era, a failure to appreciate the realities that a Prime Minister faces in foreign affairs and a reluctance to admit that “liberal interventionism” often involves conservative methods.

The recasting of the Clinton years is risible. The former President is depicted as a sage diplomat, measured and consistent, who “spoke European” (unlike his successor, who can barely speak English) and with an astute strategy for global politics.

This is nonsense. Mr Clinton’s approach to international relations was rather like his attitude to women: he either wanted his hands everywhere or he ignored the body concerned entirely. He came into power demanding that Europe take charge alongside him in Bosnia and then retreated when a relatively minor military debacle elsewhere (Somalia) drained him of personal authority. After that he was such a feeble commander-in-chief that when Osama bin Laden started his terrorist campaign against American targets the response from the Oval Office was to bomb so-called chemical factories in Sudan — but only after local security guards had finished their night shift and there was no danger of them being hit by missiles. That must really have put the frighteners on al-Qaeda.

Then there was Kosovo. Six years after declaring the behaviour of the Serbs in one part of the Balkans to be utterly unacceptable, Mr Clinton had to be dragged kicking and screaming by Mr Blair into a neighbouring area where the atrocities committed were worse still. The split between the two men then was more profound than any that has occurred since Mr Bush entered the White House. It happened not because Mr Clinton was being “measured”, let alone “consistent”. He behaved as he did because he did not want to risk his poll ratings. Too often, Mr Clinton did not “speak European” — he spoke with a forked tongue. Whatever Mr Bush’s faults may be, as the Prime Minister has frequently observed, you do know where he stands and where you stand with him.

The truth also is that Mr Blair had little choice but to stand with the President. Britain is a country that punches above its weight in world matters. It does so mostly because of its intimate connections with what has become the lone remaining superpower.

The Prime Minister appreciated immediately that September 11, 2001, would transform American overseas activities and hence fundamentally alter the direction of ours, too. If Britain were to opt out of either the intervention in Afghanistan or the invasion of Iraq, then it would sacrifice its standing not just with this Administration, but others that would follow. It would discard a “special relationship” for a mere amiable association.

There are some enthusiasts for the EU who would prefer that Mr Blair watered down the transatlantic alliance. Yet even if he wanted to take Britain much closer to the heart of Europe, could he? France and Germany are not looking for a ménage à trois with this country and British voters (mercifully) will not tolerate euro membership, which is the minimum price for admission. Furthermore, experience suggests that the EU’s concept of a common security and foreign policy is not “common”, “secure” or much of a “foreign policy”.

Thoughtful critics of Mr Blair from within his own ranks understand much of this and articulate a more sophisticated thesis. They accept that his room for policy manoeuvre was limited and assert that the liberal interventionism that he espouses — trying to right outrageous wrongs in the world whenever possible, using force if needed — is right. The tragedy of Iraq, they say, is that it devalued the cause that he champions.

There is much in this that has to be conceded. Mistakes made in the aftermath of the overthrow of Saddam Hussein have been costly. Some of them were avoidable. Others, on the other hand, were inevitable. The idea that there can ever be such a thing as Fairy Liquid warfare — conflict that leaves your hands feeling cleaner and smoother afterwards — is an illusion. Liberal intervention will always demand imperfectly conservative methods. It is a price that has to be paid.

The essence of Mr Blair’s words in Washington are that he sticks by that view. He is correct. His might be an arranged marriage with Mr Bush, but it would be madness to break the marriage vows now.

Read more Tim Hames columns here

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