THERE WAS a degrading little spectacle at the British embassy in Washington last week: that of Roy Jenkins, Chancellor of Oxford University, holding out his begging bowl to Americans on behalf of Oxford.
It was all part of a fading British Establishment in action, feeding off the achievements of the past for the money of the present. There was Jenkins (aged 69, Balliol), speaking alongside the British Ambassador to Washington, Sir Anthony Acland, (60, Christ Church), and the Oxford Vice-Chancellor, Sir Patrick Nairne, (68, University College) - a self-congratulatory looking bunch, basking in the glory and superior status that so many Brits mistakenly think are automatically bestowed on them by Americans.
Jenkins, now Lord Jenkins of Hillhead, delivered his spiel and said that by his calculations nine out of the last eleven British ambassadors here have been what he called 'Oxford Men'. Why this should be something to boast about I have no idea; my instinct was to shout 'shame', but I managed to stifle it.
'Is it true,' an elderly American then asked me,'that Acland is going to be Provost of Eton?' I said I didn't have a clue but that it would not surprise me. Acland is seen in London as a quintessentially deft British diplomat, but 'a little out of touch' are the kindest words I have heard anyone in the US State Department say about him in the six months I have been here.
Jenkins's visit followed immediately on one by Prince Philip, and that inevitably meant caviar, scones and cream, sandwiches and watercress, strawberries and cream at a garden party at the British embassy. Plus, of course, the obligatory 'fund-raising dinner' at which proximity to British royalty is sold to Americans willing to fork out large sums of money to whatever the begging-bowl charity happens to be. (The Prince's most noticeable contribution to political dialogue here came when he said he didn't care if Catholics and Protestants killed one another in Northern Ireland, so long as the wildlife didn't.)
The only moment of amusement at the embassy last week came when Nairne read out a letter from Margaret Thatcher (Somerville College), telling of her great commitment to Oxford, higher education, and so on. This brought forth guffaws from one or two of the more informed Americans present, and led Sir Anthony to study the floor very closely indeed. Then Rupert Murdoch, the speakers' old British colonial Establishment colleague (Worcester College) and now a US citizen, was profusely thanked for giving £3 million for an Oxford 'chair'. It was, I have to say, a depressing experience. There is something colossally self-regarding about those British who come here so shamelessly for money, and the kind of people willing to do it are the first to sneer at Americans behind their backs - not only seeing themselves as inherently better but viewing the typical rich American as correspondingly crass and vulgar.
The problem is that such British want, and need, their dollars. Some kind of accommodation has to be reached, so they offer Americans what in the New World is a poisoned apple - that of class distinction and snobbery.
Lord Jenkins went back to Britain doubtless pleased that he has raised tens of millions of dollars from Americans willing to grasp the forbidden fruit and partake of Britain's most lamentable export. But at a price, of course: dollars from America and degradation for Britain.