A toast, a joke, and a shared history
While much of the country is still talking about the shooting incident at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner, I had the good fortune to stumble upon Tuesday night’s live broadcast of King Charles III’s remarks at the White House state dinner in his honor. I’m sure it’s all over YouTube by now, and students of American History should seek it out for both the historic references and a considerable touch of humor.
Earlier that day, the king addressed Congress and spoke plainly about present-day concerns. He reaffirmed the United Kingdom’s commitment to NATO and collective defense, voiced continued support for Ukraine in the face of Russian aggression, and cautioned against a drift toward isolationism that has surfaced in both nations at various moments. The speech framed the Anglo-American relationship not as nostalgia, but as an active partnership shaped by shared democratic responsibilities in an unsettled world.
At the White House dinner, King Charles III balanced that seriousness with a warm portrayal of the United States, leaning into traits both nations readily recognize. He spoke admiringly of the American spirit of independence—not merely as a political break, but as a broader impulse toward self-direction, experimentation, and renewal. The United States, in that telling, remains a place inclined to test boundaries, absorb new influences and reinvent itself across generations.
He paired that with references to exploration and enterprise, suggesting a shared lineage of curiosity and outward reach. Where Britain’s story once unfolded through maritime exploration and global connection, he cast the American story as an extension of that same instinct, carried forward on a continental scale and beyond. The effect was to place the two countries on a continuum—sometimes at odds, often intertwined, but ultimately shaped by similar habits of mind.
In the first punchline of the evening, Charles nodded to recent changes at the White House, remarking that he could not help but notice the “readjustment to the east wing.” Charles said, “I’m sorry to say that we British, of course, made our own small attempt at real estate redevelopment of the White House in 1814.” Those familiar with U.S. history will recognize the reference to the burning of Washington when British forces entered the capital and set fire to public buildings, including the presidential residence.
In another moment of historical humor, King Charles III reached further back, invoking the long rivalry between Britain and France for control of North America. Before the United States existed, that contest—culminating in the French and Indian War—helped determine which language, legal traditions, and political institutions would take root on the continent. Britain’s victory did not settle every question, but it shaped the framework within which the American colonies would later emerge and, ultimately, rebel.
Against that backdrop, he offered a gentle rejoinder to the familiar claim that Europe might be “speaking German” without American intervention in the twentieth century, suggesting instead that Americans might be “speaking French” without Britain’s earlier role. The remark was less a literal argument than a reminder that the two nations’ histories have long been intertwined—sometimes as rivals, sometimes as partners—and that each has, at different times, helped shape the other’s course.
