The helicopters have flown, the red carpets have rolled up and the tiaras have been put back in their safes. Donald Trump’s second state visit to the UK was a rare honour and the security surrounding it unprecedented. Windsor Castle’s ancient stone walls were ringed with metal security fences. Anyone hoping for one of London’s best views over Windsor Great Park on the descent into Heathrow Airport would have been disappointed as the airspace overhead was closed. The killing of right-wing influencer Charlie Kirk and the attempt on Trump’s life last year led to an extreme state of alert.
Where the president goes, helicopters and a motorcade follow, usually comprising more than 20 vehicles. Even though Trump hardly touched the ground on wheels, Cadillac One was flown in. His personal car, known as The Beast, features eight-inch-thick military armour, five-inch-thick windows, supplies of oxygen and the president’s blood type. There were contingency plans in the event of biohazards and IEDs. The true costs of such trips are rarely published but it’s estimated that Air Force One costs up to $200,000 (€170,000) an hour to fly. That’s before you add in the whole entourage, often hundreds strong, that comes along for the ride. Even back in 1998, Bill Clinton’s six-country, 12-day trip to Africa cost $43m (€37m).
Trump was greeted with flypasts and military parades. But what’s the publicity value of a state visit if you have to be kept away from the disgruntled citizens of the country that is supposed to welcome you? Trump’s second-term trips have mostly been to summits where he hasn’t been anywhere near the public. At Windsor his carriage procession – unlike Emmanuel Macron’s in the summer – kept him inside the castle’s grounds. Long gone are the days when Jimmy Carter could walk about in a crowd of 80,000 people in Newcastle. It’s even more astonishing that Bill Clinton could shake hands with well-wishers in Belfast in 1995, the violence of the Troubles not yet ended. Attempts on the lives of US presidents are sadly nothing new but what seems to have changed is the level of anger and polarisation that Trump in particular arouses.
On his last state visit, the president was greeted by the baby blimp, a six-metre-high balloon of an orange Trump in a nappy, which floated over London as many residents protested. It was not only embarrassing for the guest and his hosts but also expensive, costing millions in policing. Many countries have been asking whether they can justify the extravagance of such state occasions while telling their citizens that there’s little money to spare for public services. When Emmanuel Macron hosted King Charles III at Versailles, the banquet in the Hall of Mirrors for 160 dignitaries cost some €475,000. The Elysée was criticised for wasteful spending over the dinner of lobster, rose macaroons and Château Mouton Rothschild. The wine alone cost €40,000. Trump’s hosts might be relieved that he doesn’t drink.
In Saudi Arabia and the Gulf this year, 21-gun salutes were sounded, camels were present and sword dances were performed for the president. What’s at stake is not only diplomacy but also big business. Tech-company bosses dine at the banqueting tables alongside more ornamental celebrities. They could all afford their own champagne and shellfish dinners. But that’s why these visits continue – governments believe that the costs are tiny compared to the deals that could emerge. The figures are often scarcely believable: the US government claimed $2trn (€1.7trn) of investment would come from Trump’s Gulf trip. UK prime minister Keir Starmer boasted of £250bn (€287bn) “flowing both ways across the Atlantic”. Those billions make dusting off the white tie and putting the horses on parade seem well worth it.
