Hard to watch...

So, apparently we’re all supposed to swoon over the optics of this U.S.–U.K. royal handshake tour. Cue the bagpipes, the Union Jacks, the slow-motion footage of motorcades rolling through London, and Donald Trump trying to look statesmanlike next to King Charles. But let’s be clear: there is no ideological love story here. Charles has spent his life talking about climate action, biodiversity, and international development. Trump… well, Trump tears up agreements, mocks science, and measures success in applause counts. Oil and water.

Yes, the photos will show them smiling. Maybe Charles even puts a hand on Trump’s back. But don’t be fooled: that’s not friendship, it’s choreography. The monarchy survives on ritual, not on personal chemistry. This visit is about protocol and geopolitics, not mutual admiration. It’s Britain trying to keep the “special relationship” on life support while its own citizens wave placards outside the palace gates.

Do I like it? Not even a little. I hate watching the pomp used to burnish Trump’s ego. I don’t want the red carpet rolled out for him. I don’t want anything that makes him look good. I don’t want anything that feeds his ego, because it’s exactly what he craves, the optics of respectability. Right now, he’s not getting that from his supposed friends. Putin’s busy, Xi Jinping is recalculating, Kim Jong Un is playing his own games. So this visit, with its royal backdrops and ceremonial salutes, becomes the next best hit of validation. It’s the kind of spectacle that soothes a bruised ego.

However the palace knows how to choreograph a spectacle. But hidden away, out of sight, is another uncomfortable truth: you won’t see Prince Andrew sidling up to Trump for a chat about Epstein. That photo op won’t happen. Andrew is kept far from public view for a reason. The royal family is ruthlessly careful about who appears where and when. They know exactly how toxic certain images would be.

Here’s the geopolitical kicker: these three countries, the U.K., Canada, and the U.S. were once united allies, the dependable triangle of Western democracy. Today it’s only two of them. Canada and Britain still stand for the rules-based order, climate responsibility, and alliances. The U.S., under Trump, has drifted into transactional nationalism, tariffs, and thinly veiled contempt for its oldest partners. That’s the unspoken tension behind every handshake photo and parade step this week. The monarchy and Britain have to do what they have to do. But let’s not confuse duty with devotion.

Still, there’s a part of me hoping for one unscripted moment. My fantasy? King Charles leans in and says, “Mr. President, just a reminder: Canada’s still part of our Commonwealth and not for sale.” Or maybe he sneaks in a gentle lecture about climate change. But I won’t hold my breath. This visit is survival, not solidarity. It’s ritual, not rapprochement. It’s the monarchy protecting itself, not endorsing Trumpism.

What makes this so frustrating to watch is that it feels designed to fool people who only see headlines. “Look, King Charles and President Trump smiling together!” It's as if that means anything. You can practically hear the stage directions: “Cue the cavalry horses, cue the trumpets, cue the handshake.” Meanwhile the British public, the bulk of whom have nothing positive to say about the current president of the United States, look on with a mix of resignation and protest.

Maybe it’s petty and childish of me, but I wish this weren’t happening. I wish the crown could simply say, “No thanks, not this time.” But monarchies don’t get that luxury. They live and die by symbolism and continuity. And so we’re stuck with the show.

Bottom line: don’t mistake a royal welcome for a royal endorsement. In just a few days Trump will be back to the same controversies and court cases and questionable allies he arrived with.

The red carpet may hide the dirt, but it can’t scrub off the footprints of history, and no handshake, crown or trumpet blast will ever make Donald Trump look kingly.