OPINION

China is a bigger threat to America through the Chagos Island than Greenland will ever be.

Allowing a socialist British government to give it to China sycophant Mauritius means that America’s most important Indian Ocean base would no longer rest on sovereign, freehold authority but a lease.

Diego Garcia is not merely a useful airstrip in a distant ocean.

It's a pillar of American global reach. From the Cold War to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, from counterterrorism to deterrence, the island has enabled the United States to project power, gather intelligence and sustain operations with a freedom that few other locations permit.

Its value derives from three things, remoteness, geography, and above all its status as a sovereign base operated by a trusted ally.

Sovereignty isn't a diplomatic technicality.

It's the foundation of assured access.

A base held under lease, subject to international arbitration or the shifting politics of a third country, is inherently more fragile than one held under sovereign authority.

It introduces doubt into contingency planning and weakens deterrence by signalling conditional access rather than guaranteed access. In an age of lawfare and coercive diplomacy, that distinction is not academic, it is operational.

Strategically, the argument for stability grows stronger by the year.

China's expanding naval presence, its growing carrier force and advanced submarine capability, and its widening footprint across the Indian Ocean have transformed the region into a central theatre of competition.

There is already evidence that Beijing has shown interest in dual use facilities, logistics nodes and electromagnetic infrastructure across the wider Indian Ocean.

Any dilution of British control over Chagos would increase the risk that rival powers, through pressure, partnerships or commercial arrangements with Mauritius, could gain a proximity or influence that does not exist today.

Securing sea lanes, protecting energy flows to European and Asian allies, and maintaining the ability to operate across Africa, the Mideast and the Indo Pacific all depend on secure basing.

Diego Garcia is the cornerstone of that posture. Introducing a new sovereign landlord into that equation, particularly one without the naval capacity to police its own territory, only creates vulnerabilities that adversaries would seek to exploit.

There is also a question of precedent.

If British sovereignty over Chagos can be set aside on the basis of a non binding advisory opinion, then no allied basing arrangement is truly safe from similar legal manoeuvres.

For America, which relies on a network of overseas facilities, that is a troubling signal.

There is another complication. Mauritius is a signatory to the Pelindaba Treaty, which prohibits nuclear weapons on African territory.

Diego Garcia has long supported operations involving nuclear powered vessels and platforms central to American deterrence and strategic reach.

Even if present assurances are offered, a future Mauritian government or third parties could seek to invoke Pelindaba obligations to constrain or challenge operations.

That risk does not exist under current British sovereignty.

Then there is the risk that lies in the politics of Britain itself.

Nigel Farage's Reform UK party, currently polling strongly, it has already pledged to rip up the Mauritius deal and end payments for the lease of Diego Garcia.

That's not a fringe position.

It reflects a growing backlash among British voters against the treaty.

The small print of the agreement makes this politically charged situation even more dangerous for the United States.

Under the terms as currently understood, a single missed payment could, in theory, give Mauritius leverage to challenge continued UK and US presence on the island.

In other words, America’s access to one of its most critical bases could be placed at the mercy of domestic British politics and Mauritian consent.

That is the very definition of strategic fragility.

None of this denies the historical grievances of the Chagossian people, which deserve serious and humane consideration.

Indeed, it's notable that most Chagossians themselves do not support the transfer to Mauritius and have made clear their wish to remain a resettled, largely self governing British Overseas Territory while continuing to coexist with the US UK base on Diego Garcia.

From a strictly American perspective, the military calculus is therefore even clearer.

A sovereign, dependable, uncontested Diego Garcia under British authority is a strategic asset. A leased, legally contested, diplomatically fragile Diego Garcia under Mauritian sovereignty would be a liability.

Great powers do not surrender valuable positions without necessity.

There is no necessity here.

The base is functioning, funded and strategically indispensable.

To trade that certainty for legal uncertainty would be, in plain terms, a strategic misstep.

For the United States, the choice is not between past and present, but between assured access and conditional access.

On that choice, prudence points in only one direction.

President Trump could act to the benefit of America's security, in the interests of the Chagosians and to save an ally from mistake.

If he did, he would deserve the Order of the Garter, England highest and most ancient knighthood and much more distinguished than done price from a retired dynamite manufacturer.

Jacob Rees-Mogg is a former member of Parliament, cabinet minister and currently a TV host on GB News.