It’s funny which bits of the Constitution are taken seriously in America.

When a young Ruth Bader Ginsburg demanded equal pay for equal work in the US Supreme Court, she was initially told the Constitution doesn’t mention ‘women’ or ‘sex’ – so tough luck. 

When classrooms full of children were gunned down, multiple times, defenders of the Second Amendment insisted the Founders were clear: the right to bear arms is sacrosanct. 

But now, as Donald Trump and his allies talk up the idea of him having a third term in the White House, suddenly, we’re told that the 22nd Amendment, which unequivocally states ‘no person shall be elected to the office of the President more than twice’ is open to interpretation.

On Kamala Harris’s campaign last year, I repeatedly warned about three things that would happen if Trump took office again: he would criminalise abortion, abandon Ukraine, and scrap the democratic process.

In debates with everyone from Trump fanboy Nigel Farage to White House advisor Sebastian Gorka, I was dismissed as dramatic, alarmist, and out of my depth.

When I raised alarms about Project 2025 – the utterly chilling blueprint for authoritarian rule written largely by former Trump officials – I was told by Gorka it had ‘nothing to do with him.’

And yet, here we are – just 70 days into his second term, and already a third of women of reproductive age live under abortion bans. We all saw the sickening scenes with Zelensky in the White House. And at lightning speed, Trump has already enacted an estimated 42% of Project 2025.

Now, the idea of a Trump third term isn’t a punchline anymore – it’s a plan. I’ve been in rooms with strategists, overheard campaign staff, and studied these unhinged proposals more than I care to admit.

‘But how?’ I hear incredulous readers screaming.

Well, the theory from right-wing voices is simple: yes, they concede, the Constitution lays out that no one shall be elected president more than twice. But it says nothing about succession.

Trump, the theory goes, could run as vice president in 2028 – perhaps alongside his current VP, JD Vance. If they win, Vance could be sworn in as Commander-in-Chief and then resign, allowing Trump to assume the presidency through the line of succession.

This isn’t a legal argument – or one that makes much sense. But in MAGA-land, grievance is disguised as logic.

Steve Bannon – a former chief strategist to Trump who was convicted for defying a subpoena related to the January 6 Capitol riot investigation, and pled guilty to fraud – has floated the idea of ‘four more years after the next four.’ 

Former advisors talk openly about Trump being ‘restored’. Republican lawmakers table bills to ‘repeal the 22nd.’ At Trump rallies, I’ve seen T-shirts printed with ‘Trump 2024. 2028. 2032.’

Many assumed this was a reference to his children standing, or a joke. 

But now, they are preparing for Trump to complete over a decade in the Oval Office. 

Trump is surrounded by more loyalists and fewer checks and balances than ever before. The ‘grown-ups in the room’ (I use that term loosely) from his first term are long gone. This administration is stacked with MAGA loyalists who see constitutional norms as optional.

If they think they can force a third term – through lawsuits, executive orders, or sheer chaos – believe me, they will.

The movement isn’t trying to win on policy, governance, or compromise but through sheer brute force. They believe might is right and they’re high on power. Their plan isn’t to govern. It’s to outlast, outmaneuver, and outlive any opposition to its poisonous agenda.

This is how democracies slip: not always with tanks in the streets, but with technicalities, semantics, and very serious men in suits saying, ‘It’s actually more complicated than that.’

In Britain, we’ve been used to believing that America has institutions too sacred, a constitution too set in stone, to be broken. But opposition leadersin the US – especially those working to stop this – are under no such illusion.

The courts are politicised. Congress is broken. State legislatures are in hock to Trump. A President who tried to overturn an election and incited an insurrection is not only not in jail – he’s been re-elected.

We need to stop treating the Trump third term as hypothetical. The groundwork is being laid right now. And from where I’m sitting – just like I predicted nationwide bans on abortion and betraying Ukraine at every turn – it’s terrifyingly plausible.

For those watching from abroad, don’t make the mistake of thinking this is America’s problem alone. We know what can happen when authoritarianism gathers pace.

In the UK, we aren’t powerless. 

Rebuilding and strengthening our European alliances are essential in countering America’s democratic slip ‘n’ slide.

So the next time you hear talk of Trump’s third term, believe it. They’re not joking. They’re not testing the waters. They are planning for a third term.

And if you think the Constitution will save America from it – well, you haven’t been paying attention.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Ross.Mccafferty@metro.co.uk. 

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I love my country. There, I said it. 

And no, I’m not a frothing racist or a far-right activist. I’m not even a Conservative. 

I’m a patriot. I’m proud of my country – and you should be too. 

For too long, patriotism in Britain has been hijacked, and I am sick to the deepest pit in my stomach of cringing every time a far-right thug or opportunistic political voice drapes themselves in the Union Flag, weaponises our national symbols and whitewashes our heritage. 

From Tommy Robinson to Laurence Fox and Nigel Farage, these faux patriots use red, white and blue bunting as a backdrop for division. They have twisted British patriotism into a cheap political prop to slam the other side with.

Yet, I am equally frustrated with the liberal left who wince at the thought of patriotism – or worse still, shame me for loving our country.

If we surrender our country and flag to the far-right, the negative consequences will impact us all. 

I am everything you’ve been warned about: a liberal, pro-European, anti-Trump, anti-Putin, wokerati, DEI-supporting, internationalist, vegetarian lefty. (Phew, I think I got them all in there.) 

But I’m also an unashamed patriot who is proud of his nation and will sometimes even go so far as to say the UK might be the greatest country in the world.

The problem today is that being a patriot has become synonymous with narrow-minded nationalism and far-right extremism. 

It’s been lumped together with xenophobic slogans, exclusionary politics and misplaced declinism. 

Being proud of our country is my right – and boy, do we have some things to be proud of. 

Throughout history, in almost every field – from health to science and transport to human rights – we have led the way. 

It was Manchester scientist Alan Turing whose groundbreaking work cracking the Nazis’ Enigma code helped bring the Second World War to an early end – saving countless lives and laying the foundations for modern computing.

And he’s hardly the only Brit to transform the world – I barely need to mention Stephen Hawking, Charles Darwin, Jane Austen or William Shakespeare.

We kickstarted public transport, invented the World Wide Web, revolutionised nursing and changed science forever.

We pushed boundaries and built a legacy of courage, creativity, and conviction that can only be found on our tiny island.

Even now, we don’t just contribute to global culture and sport – we define it. Britain’s football clubs are adored everywhere, and our music has reached every inch of the planet.

Big-screen icons like James Bond, Harry Potter and Wallace & Gromit have captivated audiences worldwide and, with series like Doctor Who, Sherlock and The Crown, our television is undeniably the gold standard.

We have a strong public sector, a fair justice system, high animal welfare standards, and fundamental rights like same-sex marriage and safe, legal abortion are non-negotiable. 

When Britain shows up, we don’t just participate – we lead. 

I’m immensely proud of our history of defending neighbours in times of crisis and welcoming those in need. 

When Hitler invaded Poland, over 400,000 Brits made the ultimate sacrifice to defeat fascism.

When Putin invaded Ukraine, we didn’t even take a breath before picking a side. Brits opened their arms, taking in over 200,000 refugees and now we are leading the ‘Coalition of the Willing’, working flat out to secure Ukraine’s victory through aid, funding and military support.

Yet, there’s no denying our past is complicated. I acknowledge and regret the injustices wrought by the British Empire, the deplorable legacy of the transatlantic slave trade, and the prejudices that prevailed in our society. 

I know that for many people – particularly those of ethnic minority descent – the horror of Britain’s past, and the inequalities that persist today, make it difficult to feel pride in our country.

That discomfort is valid and modern patriotism must make space for that uncomfortable truth, because we are not perfect today.

I don’t believe in continued British expansionism and the hangover of the Empire still wreaks havoc today – right on our doorstep.

I continue to find the partition of Ireland deeply troubling – a century-old conflict where British rule in the North remains contested, power-sharing is fragile, and a fictional border drawn by Westminster still fuels division.

I find it entirely unsurprising that former colonies like Barbados want to cut ties with us completely.

But my ability to hold multiple truths at once – pride in our national story and sorrow for the darker elements of its past, and sadly sometimes its present – reflects a maturity that all Britons, particularly those on the left, must learn to embrace.

It’s time to forge a new era of patriotism, in which democracy, the rule of law, compassion and the embrace of diversity are our undeniable bedrock.

At its core, the United Kingdom is a reflective, compassionate, forward-looking country. 

Those of us on the liberal left and sensible right have a responsibility to make it better, not surrender it to those who peddle division and nostalgia for a past that never truly existed. 

When the world sees the Union Flag, it should be a proud projection of shared hope, responsibility and democracy, not a symbol of exclusion and division.

But it’s on all of us to make that symbolism a fact.  

Patriotism is not anyone’s to weaponise, and it shouldn’t be anyone’s to abandon. I’m proud of my country, and I refuse to let anyone take that from me. 

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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Donald Trump might believe that he knows the Art of the Deal, but Vladimir Putin knows better. 

That’s why he is laughing at the US President – but there’s nothing funny about it, because Ukraine is paying the price. 

This week, when Trump eagerly awaited a call from the Russian leader, Putin made him wait over an hour while he enjoyed an event in Moscow. This wasn’t a scheduling mix-up or a simple delay – it was a calculated display of power. 

And when the call finally happened, despite what Trump had previously claimed, Putin didn’t budge on ending the war. Quelle surprise.

Putin had, according to a US readout, told Trump he would stop attacks on Ukrainian energy infrastructure. But there is no sign he was telling the truth. 

And why would he? Putin is not here to negotiate. He’s not interested in peace. He’s here to win. And winning means flattening Ukraine until they concede to his unreasonable demands, ceding land and authority. 

Trump, after the call, praised Putin as ‘very solid, very strong.’

He has since spoken to Ukraine’s Volodymyr Zelenskyy, but neglected to give details on a peace deal, claiming in an uncharacteristically muted statement that ‘we are very much on track’. 

This was not the statement Trump expected to make. 

For him, this was supposed to be a triumphant moment. He spent last year’s campaign trail claiming he’d end the war in 24 hours if only we gave him the chance.

Like all of Trump’s grand promises, it was questionable whether it was true, and he now even claims he was being ‘a little bit sarcastic’ when he made that pledge. 

Far from getting the President of Russia to agree to a peace deal, he couldn’t even get Putin to pick up the phone on time. 

Worse still, Russia’s refusal to engage in meaningful ceasefire talks exposes the lie at the heart of Trump’s ‘peace plan.’ 

Russia doesn’t want one. 

Putin’s delay is a calculated humiliation, a public display of the power imbalance. In the world of fragile male ego politics, punctuality is a signal of dominance. 

Trump tries to act like he’s a master negotiator, but Putin treats him like a hapless contestant on a Russian version of The Apprentice. He’s not testing Trump’s resolve – he’s denying its existence and toying with the supposed ‘most powerful man in the world’. 

Putin’s rejection of a ceasefire isn’t about strategy – it’s about survival. Keeping the war going fuels American right-wing anger towards Ukraine, weakens Western unity, and isolates the US from its allies.

The longer this drags out, the better it is for Russia.

Even more telling is what Putin is demanding as a condition for any truce: a complete halt to all weapons deliveries and military aid to Ukraine. 

European leaders see this for what it is – a trap. If Ukraine is left defenceless while Russia rearms, any ceasefire would be a countdown to another invasion.

For all the bluster and grandstanding, this basic fact remains: Ukraine has agreed to a ceasefire. Russia has not. And no amount of Trump boasting about ‘solid’ phone calls will change that. 

Fewer than 60 days in and Trump’s second term is an unconditional failure.

Domestically, the economy is in freefall, food prices are skyrocketing beyond recognition, and unemployment is going up amid fears of a recession. 

Internationally, his ‘epic’ Israel-Gaza ceasefire has collapsed, his slashing of aid has already resulted in suspected deaths and he has made no progress on Ukraine.

Instead, Trump has strengthened Russia and punished Zelenskyy at every turn.

Seeking financial compensation for US aid, Trump turned to the victim, not the aggressor. 

Seeking diplomatic advice, he called on the Kremlin, rather than European allies. 

Seeking the terms of a peace deal, he met with Putin, not Zelenskyy.

Meanwhile, this morning, Russian state-controlled media is claiming Putin got the better of Trump, humiliated Europe and ‘detoxified’ his country’s image.

And yet, none of this means anything to the women and children suffering under the bombing organised by Putin last night – on the very day he claimed he was committed to peace.

The UK and our European allies know what’s at stake. As we scramble to fix Trump’s mess, Putin is watching it all, calculating his next moves. 

As he does, one thing is clear: he’s not negotiating with Trump – he’s laughing at him. 

As tempting as it is to revel in the President’s misfortune, it’s not Trump paying the ultimate price. 

It’s Ukraine’s brave soldiers. And her innocent civilians. 

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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Here’s something my friends and family have never heard before: I’m completely lost for words. 

It’s taken me unusually long to gather my thoughts for this column because I just couldn’t find what to say.

My opinion of Donald Trump isn’t exactly a secret, my disdain for his dangerous approach to Ukraine is well-documented, but even I didn’t see his most recent move coming.

Trump says he wants peace, but at every turn, he is punishing Ukraine, not Russia. He said he was tired of watching Ukrainian people die. 

So why is he apparently preparing to deport 240,000 of them straight back into the jaws of a deadly war zone? 

Reports at home and abroad suggest that the President is going to revoke the protections they’ve enjoyed in the US since fleeing the conflict. 

Let that sink in for a moment. These 240,000 humans are not abstract statistics – that’s a quarter of a million mothers, fathers, and children who escaped Putin’s missiles and brutality.

There are no words to describe the wave of despair I felt upon hearing this news. My initial reaction isn’t printable. But as I paced my room, a mixture of frustration and emotion simmering, my phone lit up as friends texted me in complete disbelief. 

The conclusion was unanimous. Evil. Not just pure evil, but evil on a historic and unprecedented scale.

There will be deaths and the blood of those families will be on Trump’s hands as much as they are on Putin’s.

Families like Yulia’s, whose story I recently read about. 

They fled Ukraine through unimaginable hardship days trapped in terrifying uncertainty, enduring relentless missile attacks, panic attacks, and severe deprivation. 

Upon finally reaching safety in Arlington, Virginia, Yulia and her family began rebuilding their lives: finding jobs, enrolling their children in schools, and becoming valued members of their new community. 

Now, they’re faced with the devastating threat of being uprooted once again, returned to the horrors they narrowly escaped amid Trump’s reported plans to deport the Ukrainians who now call America their home. 

This is a tale of two conflicts: the war in Ukraine and the battle for America’s soul—and Trump’s latest betrayal reveals exactly how America is faring in its internal struggle.

Joe Biden’s administration helped Ukrainian immigrants resettle in the United States under the Uniting for Ukraine program, allowing them to legally work and live safely in America. 

Trump’s decision to revoke this protection and throw these families back into Putin’s war machine isn’t strength, ‘America First’ or even a vain attempt to secure peace – it’s moral bankruptcy at its absolute worst. 

America is a nation of immigrants. Its foundation and meteoric rise as a country is thanks to immigrants, and its true strength has always been grounded in compassion and moral clarity. 

Democrats, Republicans, and independents alike have historically united around principles of honour, freedom, and protecting the vulnerable.

There are countless examples through the centuries. When the Great Famine devastated Ireland, over a million Irish immigrants found refuge in America. 

When Europe faced the horrors of Nazi Germany, America welcomed nearly 200,000 Jews fleeing persecution. 

In the aftermath of the Vietnam War, America sheltered thousands of Vietnamese families fleeing communist aggression. 

These decisions set a global moral example, a testament to America’s strength, compassion and leadership.

Today, however, Trump is choosing cruelty over compassion. He is squeezing what little soul the country has left under the guise that it’s about being ‘fair’ to America.

But Trump doesn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘fair.’ His vision is blurred by his obvious admiration for Vladmir Putin. 

If Trump wants ‘fair’ compensation for the cost of supporting Ukraine, why is he demanding it from the invaded, not the invader? 

Right now, there’s over $300 billion of frozen Russian assets sitting idle in Europe. Why isn’t Trump sanctioning Russia aggressively himself, seizing their assets, and repaying American taxpayers directly? 

It’s quicker, more effective, and infinitely fairer than stripping rare minerals from Ukraine or plotting to topple Ukrainian leadership through duplicitous back-channel schemes or public Oval Office dressing downs?

This is precisely what the UK is doing—because that approach is fair. Last week, Keir Starmer announced plans to use frozen Russian assets to fund increased support for Ukraine. 

America could do the same, but Trump isn’t interested in genuine fairness or peace. 

He’s committed to punishing the victim, not the aggressor.

Trump’s potential deportation of refugees isn’t just abandoning Ukraine; it’s abandoning America’s own moral compass. 

If America allows compassion and core values to be replaced by cruelty and cynicism, it loses something far more valuable than geopolitical power. It loses the  fundamental battle for the soul of America.

And what’s really left if you lose the heart of your country?

Ukraine might be winning the fight for its immediate survival – but under Trump, America is losing the fight for itself. 

The consequences of the former are far graver – immediate and devastating – but if the latter takes much longer, we’ll lose both.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

Share your views in the comments below.

Eight million people live in New York City, just under 20 million in the state. And yet, I’ve never felt more isolated.

As Ukraine marks three years under relentless attack, I’ve found myself in a country that seems eerily indifferent to the suffering of my neighbours.

I may live in the US, but I am proudly British, proudly European, and absolutely, wholly, completely, proudly pro-Ukraine. Every day and every headline is a fresh betrayal, and I find myself mostly surrounded by people who don’t know, don’t care, or don’t understand.

One relative out here even questioned why I’m so invested in Ukraine’s sovereignty and told me that I would feel differently if it were my taxes funding it — seemingly completely unaware that Europe has contributed more to Ukraine than the US.

I try to remain levelheaded, but Trump’s decision to halt aid to Ukraine yesterday is the final betrayal — it’s a death sentence.

The callousness goes beyond Trump. Days after those scenes in the Oval Office, Marco Rubio accused Zelenskyy of ‘Ukraine-splaining’ when he dared to push back against US politicians undermining his country’s fight for survival. Tulsi Gabbard, Director of National Intelligence, used her platform to claim that Zelenskyy has ‘different aims’ beyond peace.

But the root of all this animosity tracks back to that infamous call in 2020.

Trump had a 30-minute phone call with Zelenskyy in which the Ukrainian President said his country was ‘ready’ to buy more weapons from the US. Trump responded: ‘I would like you to do us a favour though,’ before later asking Zelenskyy to ‘look into’ Joe Biden’s son, Hunter, and his business dealings with a Ukrainian company.

A whistleblower complaint of this exchange was later the basis for Trump’s first impeachment, which he was acquitted for.

Then, there’s the rest of them. JD Vance essentially argued that supporting Ukraine is a waste of resources and Americans ‘won’t stand’ for funding ‘the war forever’.

Republican members of Congress have openly spread and entertained Russian propaganda. It seems to me that the only ones willing to talk about Ukraine are those looking to plunder the country for its minerals.

And where the hell are the Democrats? There is zero leadership. The national party has slumped to the most embarrassing political communication I’ve ever seen — and I worked for the Liberal Democrats during the tuition fees fiasco.

Michelle and Barack Obama? I can’t see a single word. Hillary and Bill Clinton? Nothing meaningful. Jill and Joe Biden? Silent. Even George W. Bush, who knows a thing or two about illegal wars, doesn’t appear to have said anything.

Okay, a few — notably Elizabeth Warren, Bernie Sanders, AOC, and a handful of others — have been speaking out. But it’s not enough.

I am exhausted from constantly explaining why my continent’s survival — why Trump and Putin can’t just redraw geographical boundaries — should matter to Americans. 

This is not some distant conflict; if Ukraine loses, the world becomes catastrophically less safe. Putin and other dictators who dream of conquest will not stop at Ukraine. They will test the limits of Western inaction, and authoritarian regimes will take notes. US security, NATO’s future, and global stability all hinge on Russia’s defeat.

And guess what? If Ukraine does lose, where do you think all those refugees are going to go? The same people who dismiss this war as ‘not our problem’ will likely be the first to complain about an influx of displaced, desperate families seeking safety. So, if only for your own selfish reasons, start giving a flip about this war.

And let’s clear up another thing: Alliances are not one-sided. America rightly expects loyalty from its allies, but where is their commitment?

Vance can seemingly dub the UK ‘some random country that hasn’t fought a war in 30 or 40 years’ (something he’s since denied), but when our once-closest ally needed us after 9/11, we responded without hesitation — and lost 636 brave British soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan.

This is life and death. Every dollar withheld, every weapon delayed, costs lives. Each time you look away, you are complicit. 

Living here, watching my home continent under siege, has been isolating, frustrating, and depressing. But one good thing has come of it: I have never been prouder of my country.

Britain, while certainly not perfect, has stepped up in a way that sends shivers down my spine. I understand the difficult dance Starmer is doing, but seeing Zelenskyy welcomed in the way he was brought tears to my eyes.

Cheering crowds outside No 10 Downing Street; our Prime Minister embracing him on the streets, a seemingly small but powerful difference, as Prime Ministers tend to wait inside No 10 to greet leaders — it has been a masterclass in solidarity.

But still. The war goes on. Ukraine continues to be ravaged. And the most powerful country in the world is now looking the other way, pulling funding and – what appears to me – to be siding with Russia.

So I beg you. Do your bit — stop turning the other way. Stop scrolling past. Do not shrug off the destruction, do not ignore the bombed-out homes, and do not rationalise Trump’s appeasement.

Silence is complicity. And there is more than enough history to teach us that complicity leads to the darkest of places.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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In 1939, Britain faced a crossroads. A chance for a defining moment.  

And that chance was seized by Winston Churchill a year later, in standing firm against appeasement, rallying Britain and its allies to confront the growing threat from Nazi Germany. 

Churchill did not wait for history to unfold around him – he confronted it, and he shaped it. 

That’s why, decades later, he is still respected as one of the greatest prime ministers of all time; studied, quoted, and admired across the world.  

His legacy endures because he understood that leadership is not about waiting for consensus or avoiding difficult decisions – it’s about knowing when to act, when to stand up and be counted even when friends and allies hesitated.  

Now, as the man who holds that same office, Keir Starmer, arrives in Washington, he faces his own Churchill moment. 

Starmer might not face that same war, but he does face a test of moral clarity, courage, and leadership.  

He does so in the company of Donald Trump, a man lacking in all three of those qualities.  

So what Starmer does next will determine how history remembers him and could define Britain’s role in the world for a generation or more.  

The President’s latest tripe on Ukraine – that President Zelenskyy is a ‘dictator’ who ‘should never have started the war’ and that Ukraine should be excluded from negotiations about its own future – is ignorant, dangerous, and disgraceful. 

Of course, Ukraine didn’t start this war. Russia did. Trump’s revisionism, endorsed by Vladimir Putin’s regime, is a calculated move to justify abandoning Kyiv in its hour of need. 

Maybe Trump is so ignorant he believes what he says. Maybe he calculates that ‘ending the war’, even on Putin’s terms, will boost his standing with Americans.  

But we Britons know better. We may love politely standing in a queue and apologising when someone bumps into us, but beneath that civility, we know who we are, we know what’s right, and we know what we stand for. 

We should never allow our politeness to be mistaken for passivity.  

When democracy is threatened, when bullies attempt to redraw borders by force, and when history is being rewritten before our eyes, even by our closest allies, we do not look the other way. We do not shrug and hope for the best. 

We know that this moment demands more than polite British diplomacy.  

It demands the same moral clarity that saw Churchill take a stand when Europe was under siege before.  

Frankly, it demands that Starmer call out Trump’s lies for what they are – directly to his face, on his territory, in the White House – and reaffirm, without hesitation, our commitment to Ukraine and the defence of democracy. 

Brits understand this because our sense of right and wrong runs through our veins. The question is – does our Prime Minister? 

Less than 12 months ago, Starmer won a decisive victory.  

Even if he only serves one full term, he will outlast Trump.  

Starmer’s number one priority – more important than any domestic issue – must be to ensure the future stability of Europe and NATO’s survival as the world’s greatest defence force. 

Churchill knew that alliances, not isolation, were Britain’s greatest strength. Starmer must decide: does he let Trump destroy them, or does he lead the charge in protecting them? 

Will Starmer sit in the Oval Office, nodding and grimacing as Donald Trump spews his lies, or will he look him dead in the eyes and tell him in the strongest and clearest way possible: Britain stands with Ukraine before America, and we will not follow you down this path of betrayal, appeasement, and retreat? 

If he does the latter – he will gain respect at home and abroad.  

French President Emmanuel Macron challenged Trump’s lies on live TV, but his otherwise cautious approach fell short. Starmer must go further. 

Weathering the next four years by staying quiet and keeping the ‘special relationship’ intact isn’t going to work – for Britain or our allies.  

The ‘special relationship’ is finished – it died the moment Trump abandoned Ukraine. We need to stop denying it, and start getting over it.  

Trump has no interest in alliances beyond his mutual affection with Putin. He has no interest in shared values, and no interest in defending democracy with us.  

Britain’s real allies are those standing with Ukraine not just with warm words, but with action.  

Germany sent tanks and air defence, France supplied missiles and howitzers, Canada gave armoured vehicles and drones, while the Baltics and Nordics delivered artillery, anti-air weapons, training, and F-16s 

Those are our allies. Together, with our neighbours, we can reject Trump’s isolationism and authoritarian sympathies. 

This is not the time to hedge bets or hope for moderation. 

It’s time to step up where the US steps back.  

That means leading an effort to bolster Ukraine, increasing military aid, deploying troops for training and operational support, and preparing for a post-NATO America. 

This is Starmer’s Churchill moment. 

He can be remembered as the prime minister who stood tall like the great man did, leading Britain to the right side of history – or he can shrink into the shadows while traitors sell out our neighbours for a quick buck. 

Starmer’s visit to Washington is more than just a diplomatic formality – it is a test of his leadership. A test of who he is. What he says when that Oval Office door closes on Thursday will define Britain’s role on the global stage for generations to come. 

History rewards those who show courage when it matters.  

If Starmer fights back, he won’t just secure Britain’s place in the world – he’ll help save a European country from fascism and earn his place as the greatest prime minister since Churchill. 

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Ross.Mccafferty@metro.co.uk. 

Share your views in the comments below.

There exists a profound truth: while diplomacy and caution have their merits, there are times when decisive might is essential.

Last night, when I saw the breaking news alert that Keir Starmer said he is ‘ready and willing’ to put UK troops on the ground, I felt both a chill run down my spine and a surge of pride.

Then when I saw former Conservative Prime Minister Rishi Sunak publicly declare support for his once-fiercely fought opponent, I thought: ‘This is British politics at its best.’

But they still remain words without weight.

Ukraine needs more than inspiring platitudes and warm words. For too long, the West has focused on merely preventing Ukraine from losing — a stance that, while well-intentioned, has proven dangerously inadequate.

Some experts predicted that Ukraine would collapse within a week of Russia’s invasion. Three years on, although they have not fallen, victory remains frustratingly out of reach.

Even more so now that Donald Trump has made his position clear — reportedly excluding Ukraine from negotiations, potentially conceding ground and emboldening Vladimir Putin.

It is time to abandon the defeatist narrative and relentlessly focus on securing a win. And the United Kingdom must lead this charge.

Our nation boasts one of the world’s proudest records of defending our neighbours in times of crisis.

When Hitler invaded Poland, we refused to bow down and up to half a million Brits – alongside millions of our allies – made the ultimate sacrifice to defeat Nazism. The human cost was immeasurable, but it remains the right decision.

Admiral Nelson’s daring leadership at the Battle of Trafalgar secured our nation’s future, our intervention in Kosovo helped protect vulnerable communities, and our decisive action in Sierra Leone rescued a country under siege.

Our history is littered with moments attesting to our unwavering commitment to fight for what’s right with courage and conviction. That indomitable British spirit has defined our legacy; now, it demands that we revive it.

Today, we find ourselves at another crossroads — a moment when half-measures, public posturing, and behind-the-scenes manoeuvring are not enough. While Starmer’s recent remarks signal a move in the right direction, they may ring hollow to families enduring the ravages of war.

The reality is simple: Ukraine must win now, not avoid defeat for another week. The solution is also simple — but it is painful: we must deploy British troops to secure victory.

I understand the weight of what I’m saying here. This is not a decision to be taken lightly, but the UK cannot and must not sit on the sidelines of history. We know who we are; we know what we stand for, and this is the time to prove it.

It is not enough to simply sever all ties with Russia — though we should — we must signal to the world that the era of half-measures is over.

By deploying British troops to Ukraine, we send an unequivocal message that the United Kingdom defends democracy.

Our moral responsibility demands urgent, decisive leadership from Keir Starmer. Those who argue that this risks escalating the conflict or dragging us into ‘another country’s’ war fundamentally misunderstand that the alternative is far graver.

A decisive victory for Ukraine is not just morally and geopolitically necessary to safeguard democratic values worldwide — it is a strategic imperative: Failure to act undermines and weakens our own country’s security.

Comparisons to WWII are overused today, but they are instructive. In seminal moments of existential crisis, Britain and its allies understood that victory required more than just resistance — it demanded heart wrenching sacrifice and willingness to fight the enemy head-on.

Today, Ukraine stands at that same cliff-edge. We have all seen the ferocity of Russian aggression and the resilience of Ukrainian defenders. Without our military intervention, this conflict risks becoming an endless struggle.

As we approach 80 years since VE Day, now is the time for the UK to embody the transformative and inspirational spirit of that defining victory. Now is the time to demonstrate the kind of leadership that can transform this humanitarian catastrophe from a state of survival into a historic turning point.

Every decision — and every word — carries enormous weight in times like these. But the stakes are too high to settle for anything less.

The United Kingdom is an extraordinary nation with an extraordinary legacy. We are defined by our founding principles of democracy, the rule of law, and the unwavering protection of freedom.

As Russia’s grip tightens, the United Kingdom must step up. We must be the country that didn’t blink, that didn’t hesitate, that didn’t back down.

We have to be the nation that acted decisively — defended our neighbours, ended suffering, repelled tyranny, and helped secure victory for those who must have it. 

It is hard to hear, harder to say, and hardest to do, but we must now demand that British troops be deployed in Ukraine.

Anything less betrays not only our brave neighbours in Ukraine but the defining principle of our own country.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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Donald Trump wants you to believe that the very thing that makes America such a great country – its diversity – could be partially responsible for the catastrophic events in Washington, D.C. 

On Wednesday night, a passenger plane collided with a military helicopter, killing all 67 people on board both aircrafts. 

Well my advice to anyone who saw his claims is – don’t believe him.

The President’s response to the mid-air collision over the nation’s capital was as shameful as it was predictable. 

Before the dust had even settled, before the families had time to grieve – Trump declared in a typically freewheeling news conference, without providing evidence, that an increase in diversity at the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) could be to blame. 

Pressed on how he could say that, Trump doubled down, claiming the FAA hired unqualified people.

No evidence. No facts. Seemingly just a populist, knee-jerk culture war attack on diversity that, if taken seriously, may erode faith in air traffic control and potentially lead to fewer people joining the profession. 

The reality is that there has been a shortage of air traffic controllers dating back years, and as of last May, there were around 3,000 fewer than needed. 

This shortfall forces those who remain to work brutal shifts with minimal margin for error. That problem isn’t caused by diversity. It’s caused by working conditions, budget cuts, and there have already been a number of near-misses in recent years. 

If Trump genuinely cared about aviation safety, he wouldn’t be attacking public servants. He would be answering for his administration’s failure to fill key FAA vacancies, for the weakening of airline safety regulations in favour of corporate profits, and for his refusal to acknowledge the long-standing air traffic controller shortage.

On Trump’s second day in office this year — just one week before this disaster — he fired the head of the Transportation Security Administration and sacked the entire Aviation Security Advisory Committee.

So, tell me again how this is the fault of diversity, or, as Trump puts it, the FAA daring to hire people with dwarfism or epilepsy? 

Diversity, equality, and inclusion (DEI) in the workplace isn’t about ticking boxes, it’s about making better decisions, and the FAA is a prime example of why it matters.

Some independent studies show that diverse teams challenge herd mentality, and improve problem-solving, which are crucial factors in high-stakes environments like aviation.  

When former President Joe Biden implemented stricter DEI policies, the FAA broadened its air traffic control recruitment efforts and found itself able to tap into a wider pool of talent, which, in my view will have enhanced crisis management and communication strategies.

During the Biden-Harris administration, they even hit a 2024 hiring goal. 

For anyone who’s only heard about DEI through right-wing attack ads and propaganda, I disagree – making your team more reflective of society is not about lower standards. 

DEI policies simply expand the talent pool. That’s it – nothing more. There’s no conspiracy to take jobs away from white men, and there’s no plot for foreigners to rule the world, no matter what right-wing agitators say. It quite literally provides greater opportunity to a broader range of people.

Whether they’re air traffic controllers, safety inspectors, or pilots, those working in the aviation sector must all meet extraordinarily high standards. The only effect of increasing diversity is that more people – equally qualified – can enter the profession, and feel seen. 

Despite this, around 70% of air traffic controllers are white, far higher than the general population. 

Trump and his cronies don’t target diversity by accident; they target it because it works – because it threatens their outdated notion of who ‘belongs’ in positions of power.

Everything Trump says and does is, in my view, carefully designed to reinstate, reinforce, and promote America’s historical racial hierarchy. 

The FAA’s lack of diversity stems from systemic barriers that people of colour, disabled people, women, LGBT+ individuals, and other minorities encounter daily. Their presence runs counter to what appears to be Trump’s ideal world.

So, the President’s DEI remarks aren’t merely wrong; they’re a shameful, unpatriotic insult to the people who lost their lives in this tragedy. 

As usual, rather than waiting for the facts, Trump has exploited an accident to further his political agenda. 

Rather than honouring the victims, he used their deaths as fodder for his same old hobby-horse campaigns. Rather than helping prevent future disasters, he’s actively pushing policies that may make them more likely.

This isn’t leadership. But then, it never has been with him. It’s yet another con job, designed to distract from the fact that whenever Donald J. Trump is in charge, things get worse.

The three letters that are the problem in America aren’t DEI – they are DJT.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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As Donald Trump returns to power and begins trampling on hard-fought progress, democratic norms and human rights, the only response consistent with the United Kingdom’s global responsibilities is to re-think the ‘special relationship’ in 2025.

And here’s my solution – we ditch it.

For too long, Britain has held tight to the notion that we should stand by the States, no matter who sits behind the famous White House desk.

We’ve seen this blind loyalty time and again: from Tony Blair’s unwavering support for George W. Bush, which led to the illegal invasion of Iraq, resulting in the death and displacement of millions of innocent lives, to the current rush of British politicians to placate Trump.

But Trump’s record speaks for itself: He has actively undermined democracy, praised authoritarian rulers, and done everything he can to sow distrust and division in his country.

He attempted to overturn a legitimate election result, trashed the fundamental principle of a free press – going as far as saying he wouldn’t mind ​​someone ‘shoot[ing] through the fake news’ – inflamed tensions with minority communities, and condoned violence among his supporters.

His administration’s policies tore children from their parents at the border, mishandled the Covid-19 crisis at the cost of countless lives, rolled back protections for LGBTQ+ people, and began a nationwide hacking away of abortion rights.

If these devastating acts happened in a democratic country anywhere else, Britain would be the first to speak out. Yet here we are, with politicians from all parties preparing to ‘make nice’ with Trump.

This dangerous appeasement isn’t just a moral failure; it is strategically reckless. Time after time, history shows us that engaging with dictators only emboldens them.

British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain’s appeasement of Adolf Hitler is a prime example of how legitimising dangerous leaders backfires, often with catastrophic results.

The UK rightly prides itself on democracy, human rights and the rule of law; it’s part of what makes our country so great. But this cannot be reconciled with our shrugging off of Trump’s disregard for these fundamental values. 

We wouldn’t dream of working hand-in-glove with any other leader who boasts a willingness to abuse power, so why are we treating Trump differently?

Trump also poses serious risks on the global stage, alienating allies and undermining NATO, which has kept European security intact for decades. His public spats with international partners open up troubling gaps for other opportunistic regimes – from Russia to China – to exploit. 

Meanwhile, our heroic friends in Ukraine are fighting a thankless battle for their fundamental right to exist.

I am immensely proud of the United Kingdom’s response to this conflict so far – though we can and should go further – and grateful to the European Union, President Joe Biden, and Vice President Kamala Harris for their steadfast support.

Ukraine is our neighbour, and their very survival is now under even greater threat as Trump’s presidency is prepared to hand Vladimir Putin and other despots free rein.

The horror of that prospect is only heightened by British politicians like David Lammy, who once called him a ‘woman-hating, neo-Nazi-sympathising sociopath’ but now defends him as ‘very affable’ and ‘very warm’.

British politicians softening their tone underlines just how quickly even the fiercest critics fall back in line when the United States flexes its muscles.

It’s time for the UK to show moral courage and strategic clarity. We cannot continue to cling to a ‘special relationship’ with a leader who promised to behave like a dictator from Day One. 

Diplomacy matters, but it does not mean compromising our core values, basic human rights, and international stability.

We have repeatedly condemned authoritarianism in other countries, and we cannot back down now just because the individual in question happens to lead the United States of America.

The United Kingdom is a world leader and has a moral and strategic imperative to say ‘enough is enough’. We cannot negotiate with a leader who openly derides our most deeply held principles, and we should refuse any pretence that we can work with him as we would a legitimate democratic leader.

If we truly value our great country’s founding principles, then there has never been a greater moment to prove it.

Anything else, above all, betrays our own country.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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Let’s be honest — if you’re angry at Sadiq Khan’s knighthood, it’s not just because of his record as Mayor of London.

Honours lists always provoke debate, almost as if designed to divide opinion. The system is flawed — from how recipients are chosen to what the titles signify — but it remains our unique way of acknowledging meaningful contributions to society.

So here’s the son of a bus driver, someone who has faced relentless personal and professional attacks, now being recognised with one of the nation’s highest honours. It should feel like a victory for Khan and for London’s multicultural identity and resilience.

But then came the backlash. A petition, started by a Conservative councillor, amassed over 200,000 signatures, accusing Khan of failure and undeserved recognition. This reflected the deeply polarised landscape where public figures are rarely judged fairly.

Cllr Matthew Goodwin-Freeman, who launched the petition, said: ‘Sadiq Khan’s tenure as Mayor of London has devastated the city we love so much. Our once thriving capital is now divided and stagnant, and all under his watch. We’ve seen Khan continuously deflect responsibility and accountability, blaming everybody but himself.’ 

Goodwin-Freeman claimed Londoners were using this petition to hold Khan to account. 

Yet, Khan has had three consecutive and decisive mayoral wins – most recently in May 2024 with 43.8% of the vote, which equates to over a million people placing a cross next to his name in the ballot. 

Any discussion about Khan, his success and failures, has to be contextualised. 

The London mayor has consistently been a target for Tory opponents, specifically Zac Goldsmith and Susan Hall, who deployed divisive, hateful and racist rhetoric during their failed bids to defeat him.

The former described Khan as ‘radical’, ‘divisive’ and a ‘dangerous experiment’, which Labour argued was an attempt to paint Khan as a radicalised Islamist – something Goldsmith denied. 

And, according to Hope Not Hate, in a since-deleted tweet, Susan Hall retweeted and replied ‘Thank you Katie’ to Katie Hopkins’ post calling Khan ‘the nipple height mayor of Londonistabn’. 

These loaded words and attitudes will no doubt have impacted how Londoners, and Brits as a whole, viewed the mayor. 

Then, when Khan took office in 2016, he inherited a city grappling with housing shortages, air pollution, and strained transport infrastructure, challenges magnified by Brexit, the pandemic, and economic uncertainty.

Given all of this, I think the work he has done is incredibly worthy of a knighthood. 

His Ultra Low Emission Zone (ULEZ) has dramatically improved air quality, reducing more pollution than London’s airports and rail combined produce and undoubtedly saving the lives of young and vulnerable children — a rare and measurable public service success.

What seemed so unpopular and so unachievable, is now a reality under determined leadership.

Meanwhile, public transport fares were frozen, the underground network expanded, and cycling lanes increased.

Rabid critics accuse Khan of failing on knife crime while nodding along to national cuts to public services. Khan has supported community projects to address the crisis, with millions invested. Blaming him alone ignores the broader national responsibility.

Free meals for state school children, introduced by the Liberal Democrats in the Coalition government and promptly swept away by the Tories afterwards, were reintroduced in London by Khan.

Other criticisms, including accusations of performative gestures and speaking out against Donald Trump overlook the importance of symbolism in a global city like London. Khan’s statements against divisive rhetoric have cultural and diplomatic value.

Khan is not perfect, nor is his mayoralty. But compared to the relentless mega-circus of Ken Livingstone and Boris Johnson, Khan’s steady approach has prioritised substance over spectacle.

Like with most of his career, Johnson’s performance masked any tangible achievements — loud and alluring but ultimately shallow in delivery.

So why did 200,000 sign a petition demanding a block to his knighthood? Is it possible that Khan is the least deserving person ever to profit from our flawed system?

Well, given that Paula Vennells was awarded a CBE in 2019 despite her leading role in the Horizon scandal — which resulted in millions of taxpayer money being spent defending the Post Office, devastating hundreds of lives and causing a national disgrace — it seems unlikely.

So, let’s turn to the comments from signatures on the petition: ‘Khan is not for Britain and not for London’ and ‘London is now a gang/crime-ridden, cesspit, multicultural melting pot.’

It doesn’t take a genius to work out that these comments reveal more about ideological bias than his record.

Critiquing from the sidelines is easy. Leading a global city like London is not. 

Khan’s knighthood reflects his resilience and achievements in navigating one of the world’s most challenging political landscapes, and if you’re still angry about it, it’s probably time to admit that your anger has nothing to do with his record as a public servant.

Love it or hate it, our honour system is rooted in the British Empire and everything that comes with that — including its long history of racism and colonialism.

It’s time to ask yourself whether your issue is that this system is now recognising a Muslim leader for his contributions.

Donald Trump’s latest political appointments make one thing clear: America is up for sale to the highest bidder and the currency is spineless sucking up rather than relevant experience. 

By appointing Tesla and X owner Elon Musk to lead an invented Department of Government Efficiency alongside venture capitalist Vivek Ramaswamy, Trump has invited controversial corporate titans to carve up the multi-trillion dollar US government like it’s a business collapsing into liquidation. 

Their task? Slash, dismantle, and gut the very institutions meant to protect Americans. This isn’t reform; it’s a fire sale, and everything must go.

Like everything Musk-related, it’s based on a cringe meme, but the real world consequences will be felt by ordinary people if the South African-born businessman gets his wish to cut entire departments and hundreds of thousands of federal employees. 

Trump’s partnership with Musk is a billionaire boys’ club, and is about a mutual burnishing of egos, not meaningful government reform. and is about a mutual burnishing of egos, not meaningful government reform. 

Musk’s presence isn’t confined to the halls of power – he’s there on Trump’s golf trips, at dinner parties, and in media interviews, sitting in on cabinet-level vetting, and even, most egregiously, joining the President-elect’s first call with Ukraine President Volodymyr Zelenskyy.

Musk’s shadow looms large, signalling a dangerous merging of personal interest with public power. 

For all his meme-ing and talk of a sincere need to serve the American people, let’s not forget Musk’s companies have been handed an estimated $15billion in government contracts. 

If he wants to trim public spending, maybe he should start there.

This cosy relationship is already laying the foundations for a renewed era of crony capitalism, where policies are crafted to serve the whims of the privileged few, not the people who elected them.

Trump even told his first post-election meeting with Republican lawmakers that he ‘can’t get rid’ of Musk. 

And the questionable appointments keep coming. 

There’s Pete Hegseth, the man nominated for Secretary of Defence, whose credentials rest not on experience but his fawning for Trump as a Fox News host. 

Even compared to Trump’s own previous Secretary of Defence, James Mattis, Hegseth is dwarfed. 

A retired Marine Corps general, Mattis brought decades of military leadership and was widely respected across the political spectrum for his strategic expertise and dedication to public service. 

Hegseth lacks senior military or national security experience, with his most senior role being head of the Concerned Veterans for America, a group backed by conservative billionaires.

This rapid rise isn’t about expertise or strategic acumen — it’s about blind loyalty and shameless shrilling.

Hegseth was a dedicated supporter of Trump during his first term, defending his interactions with the North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un, whom he praised, and other reckless international blunders. 

Hesgeth also campaigned on behalf of a Navy SEAL who was acquitted of serious war crimes in Iraq and Trump then reversed the demotion ordered as punishment and fired the Navy secretary responsible. 

Hegseth’s career is not built on deep knowledge of defence policy or strategic foresight but for something Trump values far more – defending him stoutly on television regardless of the moral or legal implications. 

He has no background in military strategy, no experience in managing complex defence systems, and no capability in navigating international conflicts.

Instead, his qualifications begin and end with his ability to perpetuate fake news, flatter Trump’s ego and echo his talking points – and now he’s at the head of the most powerful army in the world. 

Pete Hegseth is not suitable for global stability; he endangers it.

Like Musk, his presence should worry right-thinking Americans. 

I worked in government, so I know that the civil service and public departments could be more efficient, but these are not the people to do it. 

I didn’t go to university, and I largely failed my school qualifications; I’ve always been on the outside, forcing my way into places I’m not welcome, so I understand, indeed maybe even welcome, the desire to smash up the system and shake things up.

But there is a difference between the kind of outsider who wants to shake things up for the better and someone who is simply unqualified. 

This is governance through sycophancy, a dangerous game when national security and economic prosperity are on the line.

Meanwhile, figures like Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who once dumped a dead bear cub carcass in New York’s Central Park, are rumoured for roles

RFK Jr has been told by the President-elect to ‘go wild on health,’ worrying experts.

When personal vendettas and greed replace public health and safety, then lives are at risk. 

Trump’s appointments, from Musk to Hegseth, are not about making America great again — they’re about making America for sale again. 

It’s a cynical, transactional leadership vision that prioritises the pockets of billionaires and sycophants over the needs of working people. 

In Trump’s America, governance isn’t about public service — it’s about auctioning off the country, with each piece going to the highest bidder willing to flatter the tyrant at the top.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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Last night, on my way to the Harris HQ watch party, I was driving down a motorway approaching Washington, DC, with Kamala signs covering my rental car.

The road was endless, my eyes gritty and bleary from a day of campaigning that began at 4:30am, crossing three states, endlessly promoting Harris’ platform on TV and knocking on over 1,000 doors, but my heart was full.

A car pulled up beside me and honked. Annoyed, I prepared to flip a finger, but as I turned my head, I saw a young Black girl beaming, holding her own Kamala sign and waving it with all her heart. 

I paused, honked back, waved and then became overcome with emotion. We were doing it for her, I thought.

All the hours, sleepless nights, exhaustion, leaving my life in the UK and moving to another country — it was all for that girl and all the others like her.

And it was worth it because tonight, we would finally welcome America’s first female president and turn the page on Donald Trump’s division and hatred.

Except we didn’t. 

Now it feels like that future has been taken from her — from all of us — not just for those who, like me, believed in Kamala’s vision but for everyone who will have to endure the next four years.

I think of that young girl and others like her, who deserve a future that reflects the promise we fought for.

For what it’s worth, I hope I’ve been wrong. I hope Trump and Vance don’t impose nationwide bans on abortion, dismantle democracy and concede Ukraine to Putin.  

In her 2016 concession, Hillary Clinton said, ‘We owe Donald Trump an open mind and the chance to lead.’ She was gracious, but we’ve seen what kind of leader he is now.

We don’t owe him an open mind, he owes us honest leadership that serves the people and protects their rights. He owes us more than just occupying the White House. 

In the Harris camp, the mood is sombre, but there are flickers of resilience.

We gave it our all, and we believed in what and who we were fighting for. Kamala stood for something bigger — a vision of a future where everyone belongs, where the government serves the people, all the people.

She is smart, experienced, and tough, with a career built on fighting for justice and equality. I’ve defended her from day one and will continue to do so. 

As a prosecutor, senator, and vice president, Kamala has shown time and again that she has the strength, resilience and intelligence to lead. If there’s a flaw to be found in the campaign, it’s not in the candidate.

She inspired millions and instilled hope that the future could be brighter than the past.

I can’t get the image of that young girl on the motorway out of my head — her hopeful face, her smile as she waved her Kamala sign.

What is she doing now? Did she stay up? I suppose her mum has told her by now.

What are they going through? All across America — and the world — mothers and fathers will be breaking this news to their children, and my heart aches for them.

For my part in that, I’m sorry. But, I am sure that it’s for her that we must keep going. Even in the face of this heartbreak — in fact, especially — I have to believe that what we did mattered.

That we made a difference, even if we couldn’t see it through to the end. And it hurts, it really does, but maybe, one day, that girl will take up the mantle herself.

Maybe she’ll be the one to finally finish what we started. And then maybe this will have all been worth it.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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It might not feel like it, but it is a recent phenomenon that American elections are judged by the size of rallies and crowd-drawing power.

This spectacle, pioneered by Donald Trump, has become synonymous with his brand. However, ironically, by Trump’s own measure, the curtains are closing on this tired, unoriginal, boring circus, a dwindling sideshow losing its once hypnotic power—and I witnessed it firsthand.

As an advisor to senior political figures, I pride myself on keeping in touch with all sides of the argument, and I was, in a twisted way, ready for the fireworks, eager to witness firsthand why his base finds him so compelling.

My heart was racing as I approached. Whenever I locked eyes with someone, I felt they knew I was a traitor. What awaited me on the other side of the security check? The greatest show on Earth? A carnival of charisma? Or perhaps, as I soon discovered, an overhyped snoozefest.

Stepping through the gates, I was immediately confronted by a sea of red hats. I kept my head down, trying not to stand out, but the atmosphere was palpable. People were excited to experience the bombastic spectacle that characterises Trump rallies. 

But, as it turns out, Trump was late — 90 minutes late. The crowd grew increasingly restless but stuck it out, fidgeting, chatting and scrolling social media. A series of support acts took to the stage to fill time, echoing the same lines we’d heard a thousand times before. Democrats are destroying America. The country has never been in worse shape. We need Trump. It was like a broken record, spinning tirelessly with nothing new to say.

When Trump finally arrived, the crowd erupted—a brief surge of energy—before settling into what felt like a monotonous circus act gone wrong, a tired ringmaster trying to hold together a fraying show. He stood there, completely still, soaking in the applause. He didn’t wave, didn’t smile—just stood, staring, waiting for the adulation to peak.

It was oddly unnerving and lacked any warmth. When he finally did start speaking, I realised quickly that the wait had been for nothing, and I settled in for the long haul. The man who once commanded rooms and controlled headlines was now a tired performer going through the motions.

For over ten minutes, he talked about the thickness of the bulletproof glass surrounding him, almost like a circus strongman bragging about how thick the bars of his cage were. ‘To get me, somebody would have to shoot through the fake news, and I don’t mind that so much. I don’t mind that,’ he said, gesturing towards the press area, prompting laughter and boos from the audience. He called the ‘fake news’ bloodsuckers and threw out the usual rhetoric about enemies of the people. It’s a line we’ve heard before, but they still responded on cue.

He launched into his greatest hits: ‘Sleepy Joe’ had stolen the 2020 election, ‘Crooked Hillary’ still pulls all the strings, and personal attacks on Michelle Obama. The automatic chants of ‘lock her up’ echoed through the crowd — well-rehearsed, tired and devoid of any real conviction. The scripted shouts of a miserable, failing spectacle from an audience there simply out of habit, not for any substance.

In the crowd, I met a fellow Brit. David, from Lancaster, England, had flown across the Atlantic to see Trump in the flesh. I wanted to ask him what he thought of Trump’s speech, but he left after about an hour. Imagine that—flying halfway around the world to see your hero, only to get bored and walk out halfway through.

Afterwards, I decided to talk to some attendees. I asked them what their favourite part of the speech was so far. Overwhelmingly, I got ‘the glass bit.’ No one could articulate why—no one even seemed to remember much else or care. The rally was a mishmash of words, an incoherent jumble that became more desperate as the crowd dissipated, losing interest in the disjointed performance. By the time Trump was 90 minutes into his mammoth two-hour monologue, the spectators had halved.

It was, at its core, a tedious, drawn-out circus that promised the thrill of a high-wire act but delivered the dullness of a retired clown stumbling through a routine. Like watching a really bad sequel—all the same characters, but none of the charm or magic of the original. As the uninspired ringmaster rambled aimlessly, lacking the fire that had once made his show captivating, it became clearer that the curtains were closing on Trump’s circus, and it couldn’t come soon enough.

Pablo O’Hana is a senior political advisor who served prominent UK political figures, including the Deputy Prime Minister, Secretaries of State, Ministers and three successive leaders of the Liberal Democrats. He worked on the campaign to Remain in the EU and helped deliver a ‘Yes’ result in Ireland’s referendum on legalising abortion. He is a volunteer for the Harris campaign.

Get in touch with our news team by emailing us at webnews@metro.co.uk.

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‘Listen, I’m with you. I’m on board.

‘I’ve already sent my vote off for Kamala Harris, but I’m not gonna change my husband’s mind. It’s just not gonna happen,’ Kerry in Easton, Pennsylvania, told me. 

Then she leaned in and whispered: ‘But, listen, I might be able to get him to stay on the couch. I think I can get him to just avoid the whole thing.’ 

‘Leave it with me,’ she said with a cheeky laugh, wink and high five.

As I’ve been knocking on doors and talking with voters in swing states, trying to help elect the first female president, I’ve noticed something far more intimate: the decisions being made within divided American households — and particularly by wives. 

Many, who are supporting Kamala Harris, aren’t bothering to persuade their husbands to vote for the Democratic ticket.

Instead, they’re convincing them not to vote at all.

Yes, you read that right. 

After my interaction with Kerry, the door closed and I turned around to walk down the pathway. My mind was racing with the moral quandary of being a strong voting rights advocate who had just high-fived someone essentially committing small-scale voter suppression. 

‘It’s an anomaly, a one off’, I thought to myself. ‘Move on.’ And I did.

Then, on the next street, another woman told me she’d been subtly dropping into conversations with her husband about all the ‘broken promises’ and ‘chaos’ of the Trump years. 

She explained that she was challenging him by asking, ‘Do we really want another four years of that?’, adding ‘I don’t turn it into an argument, I don’t lecture him about supporting Kamala – I just let it sit there and move on.’

I quizzed her on the strategy and the mother of two wearily responded: ‘We’ve been married for 30 years now… I can’t go through 2016 or 2020 again. 

‘It tore our family apart; we couldn’t talk about politics or anything to do with the elections. If it came on the news, we’d switch it off. It’s taken four years to get back to a place of ‘okay, we can watch the news without arguing now.’’

I found my mouth slightly agape as I struggled to apprehend the idea of living with someone you so ferociously disagree with. 

She went on: ‘I’m not sure we’d survive another election like that, so I don’t mention Kamala. I love her — just you try to stop me from voting for her, but my husband? I just need him to stay at home… pretend it’s not happening.’

That one day alone, another four women explained their logic to me. Women married to men who have increasingly leaned conservative over the years, if not decades, now find themselves married to Trump supporters who, in one case, still believe Joe Biden stole the 2020 election. 

No amount of fact-checking, policy talk, or debates over character is going to make their other halves change their minds and cast a ballot for the first female president. 

Instead, the wives are planting seeds of doubt about Trump, pointing out the chaos and fatigue, and quietly suggesting that perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if they sat this one out.

And, anecdotally, it appears to be working. One man told me he would ‘never, never, never’ vote for a Democrat, ‘no matter how qualified you tell me she is’, but that he is probably going to ‘skip it this year.’

His partner looked up at me with a smirk.

This extraordinary unorganised phenomenon inadvertently taps into a sobering reality from the catastrophic 2016 result: if just 79,316 Trump voters in swing states had backed Hillary Clinton, she would have won the election. 

This year, polls are even narrower. It’s a startling reminder of just how razor-thin the margins can be and how powerful individual conversations can become.

In just a few thousand households, the fate of the most powerful country on Earth can be decided. 

Historically, men have been viewed as the more politically dominant figure. But things have shifted. Women are not only more likely to participate in activism but turnout out to vote in larger numbers.

Now, they’re influencing those closest to them. By reducing the overall votes for Trump, these women are forging a new era of electoral pragmatism.

In an election defined by theatrics, noise, spectacle and money – all $16bn of it – the quiet conversations led by these women could prove to be the key. 

Campaigns may be measured by doors knocked on, mobiles called, dollars raised, TV debate scores, and social media ads, but the real battleground this time is much, much closer to home.

And in an election that could change the very fabric of American society from the ground up – that is incredibly fitting.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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Last week’s Big Brother eviction of Daze Aghaji, a 24-year-old Black woman, might seem a trivial reality TV matter, but it underscores a pervasive question about British society: Does the UK still have a race problem?

Daze, whose heritage traces back to Nigeria’s Niger Delta – an area devastated by oil companies, which fuels her climate activism – has been a relatively calm presence during her 13 days in the House. 

In my view, she’s steered clear of the arguments and behaviour that landed others in hot water.

Her eviction, however, came amidst a tense week, with housemates divided into politicians and citizens for a luxury shopping task. Among the nominees — Lily, Ali, Daze, and Martha — Daze had the strongest political views.

While Lily’s constant screaming grated on viewers, Ali’s behaviour sparked conflicts in the House, and Nathan’s conservative views raised eyebrows, Daze was still the one sent packing.

Since its debut in 2000, Big Brother — arguably the original social experiment — has pushed the boundaries of television, challenging societal norms long before many of our politicians and institutions did. 

Yet, 24 years on, in the latest series the racial dynamics at play are hard to ignore.

Within days of entering, another Black woman, Hanah Haji, was found in tears after she felt labelled with the ‘aggressive Black woman’ stereotype during an altercation. Expressing frustration, Hanah explained that throughout her life, and now in the House, her assertiveness is often seen as aggression.

The experiences of both Daze and Hanah fit a troubling pattern: despite being relatively composed, Black women are targeted for early eviction. In 24 years of Big Brother, no Black woman has ever won the show.

But the issue is not new. Last year, Trish Balusa, originally from Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo, was quickly branded a troublemaker despite her relatively mild confrontations compared to non-Black housemates. 

When Balusa finally broke down in a tearful exchange with Big Brother, it didn’t take a genius to work out that she was expressing the exhaustion of being repeatedly labelled ‘aggressive’.

Daze’s situation mirrors societal patterns. 

In the workplace, Black employees are held to higher standards, face stereotypes and have to work harder than white colleagues to advance. In education, Black children are more likely to be disciplined than their white counterparts for similar behaviour; and Black patients’ healthcare is taken less seriously, often leading to worse outcomes.

Black women, in particular, face the ‘double jeopardy’ of discrimination – the intersections of race and gender – which affects everything from how they are seen in leadership roles to exclusion from decision-making processes.

That the reason for Daze’s eviction — other than just ‘vibes’ — is difficult to pinpoint is exactly the point. 

Daze took on leadership roles in a number of tasks and challenges, saving fellow housemates Emma and Lily from eviction with her strategic decisions and providing many laughs – although some people mistook her actions as game-playing and manipulative.

The left-wing climate activist also struck up a wonderfully surprising relationship with Nathan King, a staunch Conservative and Nigel Farage fan. Despite this, she was the favourite to go from the start of the vote opening. 

For many viewers, the problem is that Aghaji doesn’t fit the mould of what they expect or want from a contestant. 

But it’s not just in entertainment; ‘I don’t know why, I just don’t like her’ can be just as easily applied to those voting for Donald Trump over Kamala Harris as those who voted to evict Daze.

We like to think of the UK as a progressive, multicultural nation — and we can be — but incidents like this show that unconscious racial bias remains a pervasive problem. Ethnic minorities face significant discrimination in daily life, from employment to policing.

Figures from 2019/20 suggested Black people were nine times more likely tobe stopped and searched, and nearly three times more likely to struggle to get a job.

In May, when a white man brutally murdered an innocent 14-year-old Black boy with a sword, it barely registered in the public consciousness. But when fake news broke that it was an asylum seeker or refugee who had killed the young girls in Southport, we saw riots, disinformation and violence on an almost unprecedented level.

The fact that this bias spills over into entertainment shouldn’t surprise us, but it should worry us.

It’s easy to dismiss Big Brother for one reason or another; it’s just a game, and they know what they are signing up for. But it reveals deeper issues: the treatment of Black people in our society. That Daze was overwhelmingly favoured for eviction, while Hanah was immediately pigeonholed, shows that these problems persist.

Big Brother often holds a mirror up to Britain and asks us: Are we okay with this? For all the times the show has challenged norms — like crowning an openly gay winner 12 years before marriage equality — it also reflects darker sides. The show forces viewers to reflect on their own biases as much as the contestants.

Daze’s eviction raises uncomfortable questions about how we view Black contestants and our own societal biases. We must once again ask ourselves: are we okay with this? And the answer must be no.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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In politics, unconventional strategies often pave the way to victory. 

Working on the Remain campaign in 2016, I saw first hand how our opponents on the Leave side executed a populist approach that tapped into widespread dissatisfaction with the political establishment and beat the odds.

That same year, in the US, the Trump campaign defied traditional political norms with bombastic and divisive rhetoric, rejecting mainstream campaigning and embracing social media with a raw, unfiltered style that appealed to many Americans who felt alienated by the political establishment. 

Since then, we’ve seen trends in France, Ireland, and Canada.

As we grapple with President Joe Biden’s decision to put his country first and step aside yesterday, the 2024 presidential election is just 15 weeks away, and the Democratic Party still faces the daunting task of defying the odds themselves and defeating Donald Trump. 

Biden has rightly endorsed his formidable Vice President Kamala Harris, and I believe she is the right person for the top job. 

But what she needs now is to defy conventions.

She needs a bold and unprecedented move: selecting a Republican vice-presidential candidate. 

Now, before you all lose your cool, let me explain. 

Harris is capable, no doubt about it. In my mind, who better to take the fight to a convicted criminal than a former prosecutor? 

But we cannot underestimate Trump, his revitalised campaign since that assassination attempt, nor the division that campaigning to elect the first Black woman to the presidency is going to unearth.

The truth is that extremism in America has all but eroded rational discourse and public trust. 

Immigration is a wedge issue, abortion is weaponised, and climate change is apparently up for debate. 

Whether we like it or not (and I certainly don’t), we have to counter that – and that means doing whatever it takes to get Harris over the line.

In this environment, a respected Republican as the vice-presidential candidate would communicate a commitment to unity and bipartisanship in an increasingly divided country. 

It would appeal to the growing number of voters disillusioned with partisanship and seek a government that prioritises the nation’s well-being over party loyalty. 

This election hinges on winning over moderate voters and independents who often find themselves alienated by the extremes of both parties. 

Under Kamala Harris, and someone from across the aisle, the Democrats can expand their appeal to this crucial demographic by demonstrating a willingness to prioritise the nation’s interests over party politics. 

Not only does this bolster the chances of victory, but it strengthens democracy and could put an end to the polarisation and gridlock that has plagued politics for so long.

Although some Democrats may view the selection of a Republican VP as a compromise of their values, particularly those on the left, it is safe to assume they will still support the ticket to avoid another Trump presidency.

Democrat heavyweights like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Bernie Sanders, and Elizabeth Warren all fiercely backed Biden and understand what’s at stake if they don’t support Harris.

The truth is, anyone is better than Trump—even another Republican.

So, who?

Cindy McCain, the widow of Senator and former presidential candidate John McCain, embodies the values of bipartisanship and public service. Her endorsement of Joe Biden in 2020 demonstrated her willingness to put country over party. 

As Vice President, McCain could attract centrist Republicans and independents who admire her late husband’s legacy and commitment to national unity. 

She has a strong record advocating for veterans and has spent decades raising awareness of human trafficking, working tirelessly to support legislation and initiatives aimed at combating this global issue. 

She is strong on social issues like LGBTQIA+ rights, publicly backing same-sex marriage, and her philanthropic efforts could bring a compassionate and pragmatic perspective to the administration.

Another potential veep with strong family ties is Liz Cheney, the daughter of former Vice President Dick Cheney.

She represents a brand of compassionate conservatism that could resonate with disaffected Republicans.

She has a strong record of defending democracy and the rule of law, both needed more than ever in the US right now, most notably through her vocal opposition to Trump’s false claims about the 2020 election and participating in the January 6th Committee investigating the Capitol insurrection, which saw her censored by her own party.  

A Harris-Cheney ticket would underscore a commitment to democratic principles and the rule of law, two things Donald Trump has threatened. 

Perhaps most compelling of all is former governor and 2012 Republican presidential nominee Mitt Romney, whose legislative experience and willingness to collaborate on cross-party issues make him an ideal candidate for fostering unity. 

As governor of Massachusetts, he implemented a state healthcare reform plan that served as a model for the Affordable Care Act.

In the Senate, he voted to convict Trump during both impeachment trials. His presence on the ticket could facilitate meaningful dialogue and cooperation between the two parties, helping to find common ground on healthcare, climate change, and inequality. 

And, frankly, in purely strategic terms, having a white man as VP will mitigate the discomfort some unfortunately still might feel towards electing a Black woman as president.

The stakes of the 2024 election are too high to allow anything, least of all party politics, to overshadow the greatest threat to American democracy since its conception. 

The Democrats must build a coalition that transcends party lines and appeals to the broadest electorate.

There is no question that Kamala Harris will serve her country faithfully, but unprecedented challenges demand unprecedented solutions. 

By choosing a Republican VP, she has a historic opportunity to unite the nation in a time of unprecedented division and lock down Donald Trump’s defeat.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Ross.Mccafferty@metro.co.uk. 

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As I reflect on President Joe Biden’s decision to step aside, the initial urge is to talk about the urgency with which the Democratic Party must identify a new leader and the broad impact of this pivotal moment at home in the UK. 

But amid all the complex political discussions, intricate narratives, and behind-closed-doors conversations, I find myself wanting to say just one thing: Thank you, Joe.

With the drama of the last few weeks, it could be easy to overlook Joe Biden’s remarkable contributions, not only during his four years as president but over a lifetime in public service. 

His career is marked not only by years — all 54 of them — but by immeasurable depth, and we should remember him as one of the most consequential presidents in history.

Not because he created more job opportunities in one term than any other president, fiercely supported Ukraine, or rejoined the Paris Climate Agreement, though he did. 

Not because his focus on infrastructure resulted in upgrades to public transport, though it did. 

Not even because he was the first president to join a worker’s picket line, invested in women’s health, reduced insulin costs, and expanded mental health services, though he did. 

And not because he signed marriage equality into law, fought to protect reproductive care, cancelled student loan debt for many, and worked to close the attainment gap for children from low-income families, though he did all that too.

No, the depth of Joe Biden’s commitment to his country is vast and overwhelming, but the defining principle of his presidency has been empathy. 

In a world marked by harsh rhetoric and division, he consistently demonstrated a profound ability to connect on a deeply personal level.

During a campaign event in New Hampshire, Biden met 12-year-old Brayden Harrington, who struggled with stuttering. 

Recognising the overwhelming nature of the event, Biden invited Brayden backstage to offer guidance and support. He shared personal techniques he had developed to manage his stutter, including highlighting his speech to indicate where to pause and take breaks. 

Brayden later endorsed Biden for president on live television, using a script he had written with these techniques.

But this wasn’t a one-off. Biden met with many children who shared his stutter struggle; he made the time for them.

His willingness to speak openly about his extraordinary grief — losing his wife and daughter in a car accident and son to brain cancer — has helped many feel seen and understood during their darkest times​. 

When Biden met Fred Guttenberg, the father of Jaime, a victim of the Parkland school shooting, he shared his own experiences of losing a child, how he coped with the heartbreak and what to expect next. 

The President helped Fred find strength, calling and later spending time with the father — no cameras, no journalists, no photographer, no staff — just one father to another.

In a blog post, Fred confessed that in his darkest days, Biden’s words and advice kept him going.

It is these moments that truly illustrate Biden’s character. 

This remarkable empathy informed his policies and leadership style, re-introducing compassion and inclusivity to the White House. These qualities endeared him to so many in the United States and around the globe.

The hope ignited by Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris’s victory in 2020 was a global phenomenon. 

I fondly remember the mammoth 101-hour Zoom watch party (I think we broke a record!) with friends as the election results unfolded. 

From the moment the polls closed to the moment Biden was declared the winner, we remained (virtually) together, committed to witnessing this victory. 

We slept, ate, and exercised on the call, even taking shifts to stay awake around the clock and rousing each other if any significant news broke. 

This was the level of hope and anticipation that Biden’s candidacy inspired among us in the UK.

Biden restored a sense of direction and purpose that had seemed at risk under Trump. He championed progressive policies that resonated worldwide, and his leadership style — marked by his empathy, dignity, and commitment to democratic values — starkly contrasted his predecessor.

Biden is truly a man of immense resilience and has served a lifetime in public office with heart and humanity.

But it is today’s decision — his decision to step aside — that is perhaps his ultimate act of service, even if some people thought it should come sooner.

It underscores the selfless dedication to his country and commitment to global democracy that have been the staples of his career. 

Though the stakes for America have never been higher, and though the Democratic Party must quickly begin selecting his successor, we should take time to recognise and thank Biden for his service. 

As we rally behind the principles he championed, let us honour his legacy with a renewed determination for a future that promises empathy for all. 

But, before all that and above all, let me say it again, because it can’t be said enough: Thank you. You did it, Joe. 

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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Britain is facing a crisis, and I’m not talking about the general election.

No, I’m talking about something significant happening beneath the surface. While the polls indicate a clear frontrunner for 4 July, the political landscape is shifting, and it’s not just Nigel Farage on the right who stands to gain.

At this rate, it’s not impossible that the Conservatives will collapse behind both the Liberal Democrats in seat numbers and Reform UK in the popular vote.

While the former would be amusing, the stage is being set for something neither funny nor implausible: The return of the most self-centred, dishonest and scurrilous politician our country has ever seen.

Echoing an equally depressing scenario across the Atlantic, Boris Johnson — also a law-breaker lest we forget — is poised to capitalise on the political turmoil, reshaping the right-wing populist narrative and challenging every value our country is built upon.

According to The Telegraph, thousands of letters signed by Johnson, urging people to vote Conservative, are apparently due to be delivered to voters later this week.

This is Boris reminding the Tory faithful he is still a team player, when the reality is he is rolling the pitch, ready for him to be elevated into leadership once catastrophe strikes them on 4 July.

When, on the morning of 5 July, the Conservative Party finds itself destroyed and decimated, the real battle will begin.

The ignition of the struggle for dominance on the right risks plunging our country into an unprecedented ideological and identity crisis. Some may even call it a battle for the soul of our country.

Nigel Farage – regardless of his own electoral result – will sense opportunity and intensify his efforts, appealing to those with strong stances on immigration, cultural issues, and tax cuts.

Having just suffered what could be the worst bruising in electoral history, the Conservatives will be closer than ever to an existential crisis, spearheaded by Starmer’s pragmatic approach, Farage’s direct criticisms, and Ed Davey’s strategic manoeuvres.

Historically, the Conservative Party is the most successful democratic party, existing solely to hold power. Despite infighting among those who retain their seats, the party’s survival instincts will turn towards Boris Johnson, credited with saving them from Farage in 2019. 

Always the self-aggrandiser, Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson will argue that he is the only one who can save them again. And our broken electoral system will comply.

All it requires is one MP to fall on their sword, trigger a by-election and a tired, low-turnout electorate to wave him through.

Of course, voters in that seat could refuse Johnson’s return in what would be one of the most amusing outcomes in political history. But assuming the Conservatives will place him in their safest seat, there is nothing stopping him.

Although he remains active – supporting select Tory candidates and maintaining his relevance through newspaper columns, even questioning the legitimacy of Donald Trump’s convictions – Johnson has distanced himself enough from the current disastrous Tory campaign to avoid blame.

In fact, the stage is being perfectly set for Johnson. The ‘Red Wall’ is now becoming so formidable that it rivals the Great Wall of China in visibility from space, and the Conservatives need a populist to counter Farage.

Johnson’s fingerprints may be all over other controversies, but they are remarkably absent from this one.

Johnson positioning himself for a comeback is no accident. It would appear that he believes enough time has passed for his return to be welcomed.

Whether voters will forgive his past behaviour and law breaking remains to be seen. Still, Johnson is confident in overcoming scandals and reclaiming his God-given right to be ‘world king’. ‘Cometh the hour, cometh the man’, etc.

A showdown between Boris Johnson and Nigel Farage for control of British politics’s right wing would be monumental — a Godzilla vs King Kong clash of British populists. But like most Kaiju films, the public will suffer the inevitable destruction as both sides appeal to their bases with increasingly populist rhetoric that only brings out the worst in us.

On 5 July, after their celebrations, Labour, Liberal Democrats and Greens must immediately prepare for populism on steroids. Johnson and the reactionary right returning can’t be ignored and can’t be met with uninspiring soundbites.

We must support a liberal, evidence-based, progressive alternative. Reluctantly supporting Starmer as a ‘lesser of two evils’ or trying to compete with the right’s populism risks our own long-term extinction.

The solution is a long-term, compelling, and evidence-based alternative that locks Johnson and the Conservatives out of power by delivering sustainable, sensible change for the Great British public.

As Boris finally exited Parliament, he channelled Arnold Schwarzenegger, sneering, ‘Hasta la vista, baby’. As he turned his back on an unprecedented record of lying, cover-ups and scandal, the more fitting quote for his ambitions would have been, ‘I’ll be back’.

The Conservatives are now set to rehabilitate their antihero. But that’s not who we are. We should be immensely proud that our country and our Parliament are synonymous with democracy, progress, and hope around the world.

But, in a world where our neighbours face invasion and a 34-time convicted felon seeks the White House, we forfeit all moral and political superiority if we even entertain the return of a leader who breaks the law, deceives Parliament, lies to our country, and exploits public office to maintain relevance and satisfy his ego.

Labour, Liberal Democrats and Greens are looking forward to this election, but on 5 July, they face their biggest battle yet: Blocking the return of Boris Johnson.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

Share your views in the comments below.

It’s no coincidence that the Conservatives launched this manifesto at Silverstone.

Their campaign so far has been a high-speed crash and this manifesto launch marks the start of a new race to the bottom. 

Desperately trying to stem the tide of the voter exodus to Reform, they have become indistinguishable from them. 

The Conservatives have given up on trying to win the election, and are instead concentrating on trying to remain the party of the right, fearing the threat of Nigel Farage. 

Their manifesto embraces Faragism on immigration and justice while abandoning economic credibility. Their claims that wild spending promises are fully costed are, at best, tenuous, and at worst, dishonest.

They have reverted to the same wishful thinking that crashed the economy with the infamous mini-budget: believing growth will pay for everything while ignoring fiscal realities.

Rishi’s manifesto promises £30billion in tax cuts, but the only thing he’s truly slashing is his grip on reality. The so-called savings from squeezing welfare budgets, trimming the civil service, and closing tax loopholes they’ve ignored for 15 years won’t even scratch the surface of the crises our country faces.

The Conservative manifesto prioritises growing the wealth of pensioners, who are unlikely to vote for them, at the expense of opportunities for young people, who certainly won’t.

In their desperation, they have become the party that prioritises National Service — when it doesn’t inconvenience a political interview, of course — over the national interest and public services.

Long gone are the detoxified Cameroonian Tories who were socially liberal and economically conservative. Rishi has launched his brand of conservatism — socially Farage, economically Truss.

Sadly, the coming demise of Rishi’s leadership is just the start.

When he is deposed on 4 July — or sooner, given the rate at which his campaign seems intent on speeding into car crash after another  — we know what comes next: the few remaining Tory survivors of the electoral apocalypse will begin arguing over whether the next leader should be more like Nigel Farage or just be Nigel Farage.

But Labour and the Lib Dems must offer an alternative. 

Let’s face facts: There is a growing portion of voters who find anti-immigration rhetoric attractive. However, left-leaning parties have a duty not to pander to this but to challenge it. They should not appeal to it, but stand against it.

Left-leaning parties and their voters have a duty to society to ensure the next campaign and parliament are not defined by nationalist terms.

If Labour, the Lib Dems, the Greens, and others try to appease the anti-immigration, anti-trans, illiberal, pro-culture war, hardline instincts and do not robustly challenge them, we face losing everything that makes our country great.

The Tories have chosen to pander to Faragism, and their manifesto launch shows it has cannibalised them: ‘random tax cuts for people in our country, no entry for those outside but let’s not talk about the economic damage either will do.’

But that’s not patriotism, no matter what Farage or Sunak say. True patriotism is about embracing the diverse, welcoming, and progressive values that have always made us strong. These values define our greatest moments; the moments where we welcomed desperate refugees fleeing war or offered sanctuary to the oppressed and ill.

True patriotism lies in honouring the sacrifices of those who fought for the ideal of the very fair, free, and democratic election we’re holding right now, like the heroes of D-Day.

I know it is sometimes hard to feel it — especially with the circus of the last week of the General Election — but the United Kingdom is the greatest country in the world.

We can, and should, take immense pride in our history of being an outward-looking nation that sets the pace on the global stage and leads the world in every field, from health to human rights and science to transport. 

I love our country but this election, and its bloody aftermath, represents a profound battle for the soul of our country. The results are going to define the very character of our United Kingdom.

So now, more than ever, we must stand firm in our principles and work tirelessly to ensure they define our future.

Today, the Conservatives have given up on that patriotic vision of a progressive, global United Kingdom and chosen to accelerate towards a regressive little England.

But this is not inevitable.

Labour and the Liberal Democrats are far ahead in this electoral race and neither should fall back to the car trailing so far behind them.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

Share your views in the comments below.

I’ve worked with the Liberal Democrats for over a decade, so trust me, I know what an electoral battering looks like.

And the punishing blow delivered to Rishi Sunak on 3 May truly was a historic one. 

Most leaders would probably be put off going to the voters again for as long as possible, but not our Prime Minister. A mere 20 days later, a drenched Sunak was outside Downing Street asking for more on 4 July – a General Election.

The Tory leader has said – and will continue to say – that Britain is facing a hung parliament. That is, a minority Labour Party reliant on smaller, left-of-centre parties for power.

Sunak has already declared that prospect ‘a disaster for Britain’. But a disaster for whom, exactly? I think it is exactly what we need.

As we brace ourselves for six weeks of election campaigning, we will be battered with the warning that voting anything other than Conservative gets us a ‘coalition of chaos’.

The ‘dangers’ of a hung parliament worked spectacularly in 2015; scare stories of Ed Miliband whistling to the tune of Alex Salmond and shots fired at a beleaguered Nick Clegg helped secure David Cameron a shock majority.

Setting aside that a ‘coalition of chaos’ was, in fact, the last UK Government to serve a full term without collapsing, we are not in 2015 anymore. A lot has happened since then. 

Our country is almost unrecognisable. Those of us who love it recognise that we are more divided than ever, more tribal as a people, and the very character of our United Kingdom is somewhat lost.

Therefore, a government built on cooperation, dialogue and mutual understanding between different parties is the dream outcome of this election.

This government’s record of delivery leaves the Conservatives nothing of real substance to campaign on, bar a less-than-predicted drop in inflation.

So, I’m afraid this campaign is going to be ugly. We are going to find ourselves locked in a battle for the soul of our country.

Everything from single-sex spaces, immigration, rainbow lanyards, and net zero will front the Tories’ attempt to fight a campaign on wedge issues. It will further divide our country and tear open wounds as they themselves hurtle towards likely electoral catastrophe.

Cooperation in the aftermath is the best – if not the only – remedy. A government formed between Labour and the Liberal Democrats, maybe even the Greens, makes a lot of sense because, let’s face it, the voters are already there.

Voters feel more switched on than ever, and tactical voting – which facilitated the last heavy Tory defeat in 1997 – is set to be rampant this year.

Now, in a digital age, with vote-swapping schemes, WhatsApp groups and easier access to data on who is best to win – an organic coalition of left-of-centre voters is already materialising.

From bitter experience working for the Liberal Democrats in the first coalition government, I know that a deal born from a hung Parliament is a scary prospect for junior parties.

Making tough decisions for the national interest is a noble but thankless task, and our mistakes unjustly overshadowed monumental achievements in government, like closing the educational gap for disadvantaged children and care leavers with the £2.4bn pupil premium, lifting 3.4million of the lowest earners out of paying income tax altogether, and finally securing same-sex marriage, despite fierce resistance.

Sharing responsibility must be one of the key foundations of any deal to ensure it is fair, transparent and balanced for the nation, as well as the parties.

As well as working for the Liberal Democrats and Labour MPs, I am most proud to have worked on cross-party campaigns such as the movement to legalise abortion in Ireland in 2018 and, less successfully, the ill-fated Remain campaign in 2016.

These were moments when people from different parties put their differences aside and focused on what we had in common and what we believed the nation needed. It is a beautiful and, at times, emotional thing. It’s also rare when it shouldn’t be.

Six weeks may feel like a long campaign, but I promise you that time is the one thing we do not have.

Under the Conservatives, our country is hurtling towards a high-speed motorway pile-up, which poses an irreversible threat to the very foundational values our country is built upon. 

It might not feel like it right now, but the United Kingdom is a fantastic country. We are diverse, welcoming and tolerant. We are progressive, outward-looking and when we come together, we lead the world in almost every field – from health to science and transport to human rights, we set the pace.

Do not let the Conservatives put all that at risk with childish and divisive politics. A government led by Labour and supported by the Liberal Democrats working together to deliver real, tangible, and lasting change – saving our NHS, tackling the cost of living, reforming our voting system, restoring pride – is not just what I want, but it’s what the country desperately needs. 

Coalition of chaos? Rishi, don’t threaten me with a good time!

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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