What King James can teach Charles III about diplomacy
- April 28, 2026
- Eloise Davies
- Themes: History
Against a backdrop of war in Europe and the Middle East, and fraying Anglo-American relations, Charles would do well to emulate the canny diplomacy of his predecessor.
Charles III’s visit to the United States offers a rare chance to strengthen diplomatic ties at a critical moment for the western alliance. To make a success of it, he will need to pick the right royal role model.
The king will address Congress to mark the 250th anniversary of US independence, against a backdrop of war in Europe and the Middle East, and fraying Anglo-American relations.
Rather than his enigmatic mother, Charles would do better to emulate an earlier predecessor, James VI & I, who ruled England from 1603 to 1625. Like Charles, he came to the throne after a long wait in the shadow of a celebrated Elizabeth. Yet James carved out a major diplomatic legacy of his own, calming tensions and building alliances across Europe during the early rumblings of the Thirty Years War (1618-48).
Celebrated by contemporaries as the ‘English Solomon’ and Rex Pacificus, James is remembered as an energetic peacemaker. He was eager to embrace this image: on the front cover of his collected works, James sits on a throne with the motto beati pacifici (‘blessed are the peacemakers’) displayed directly above his head.
We should be wary of taking this self-presentation at face value. James was a canny political operator, both at home and abroad. When he spoke of peace, he meant a strong defensive alliance of European powers, defined against two principal enemies: the Ottoman Empire and the papacy.
For James, the expansionist Ottomans were an open enemy. The danger posed by the pope was more subtle – but more insidious. By claiming the right to depose heretical – and hence Protestant – rulers, the pope threatened to undermine the European state system at its foundations. James saw a pressing need for Protestant and moderate Catholic rulers to ally against these twin threats.
The early 17th century was convulsed by increasing geopolitical instability. The dramatic political and social changes wrought by the Protestant Reformation had left Europe – and Britain – deeply divided. On 5 November 1605, James himself narrowly avoided assassination in the Catholic Gunpowder Plot to blow up Parliament.
Despite this chaotic context, James developed and promoted his own distinctive vision for renewed European unity, set out in numerous speeches and books. He remains the most published author to have sat on a British throne.
James emphasised that European rulers – Protestant and Catholic – shared interests (including peace, stability and combatting external interference) which should bind them together. Despite their very different views about what religious worship should look like, if rulers wanted to avoid a catastrophic war, they needed to learn to work together.
James’ clearest statement of this vision of international relations was his Premonition to All Most Mighty Monarchs, published in 1609 and addressed to other European rulers. Through this rousing call to action, James aimed to inspire his fellow princes to join him in a defensive league, while also warning of the dangers of continued division.
The Premonition offered a vision of the European order in which authority was divided up between multiple independent sovereign princes. James provided a sustained critique of papal interference in secular matters (compounded by the occasional comparison to ‘the Turks’), which was effective in galvanising anti-papal feeling. It met with a favourable reception that spread beyond Protestant Europe into Catholic states such as France and Venice.
James’s royal printer produced editions in multiple languages – Latin, Italian, French, Spanish – to reach the widest audience. Beautifully crafted presentation copies, directly inscribed to rulers, can be found in libraries across Europe.
Throughout the Premonition, James emphasised the independence of individual states. But he was also concerned with how clashes between like-minded powers could be avoided. Drawing on the language of shared interest, he appealed to his fellow rulers to join together in decrying external interference in their own religious affairs. He opened with a quote from the Roman poet Horace: when your neighbour’s roof catches fire, it’s your business, too.
Crucially, James’s approach was not merely naïve. As well as shared interests, the Premonition was unashamed in its appeal to self-interest.
Not everyone was persuaded. James was mocked by some as ‘the wisest fool in Christendom’, while one ally expressed the wish that he be ‘less doctor and more king’. Yet his interventions were significant, helping England to punch above its weight in shaping European affairs.
So far, the Trump administration has refused to make a moral case for the Iran War. As with Venezuela and Greenland, the president has preferred to present himself as undertaking a hard-nosed expansion of American power. But, as the tepid response from Europe has shown, this has little appeal for allies. There is a need to rediscover how to blend inspiration with realism.
Polling suggests 49 per cent of Britons wanted Charles’ visit cancelled, but it would be a mistake not to address this ready-made global audience. A constitutional monarch cannot dictate policy. He can, however, contribute through rhetoric.
Charles – like James – has the chance to provide a compelling account of the shared interests that bind the western alliance together. A celebration of the British monarchy’s greatest defeat could be transformed into an exercise of royal diplomacy to do James proud.