If forced to choose between Europe and America at any time in the last 70 years, a majority of the British people would have opted for America. We bonded through two world wars; we share a language and many aspirations. While most Americans are unaware of what Britain calls the “special relationship” between the U.S. and U.K., successive governments in London have believed it to be the keystone of foreign policy. Yet, in truth, it is the hero worship of a kid trailing in the wake of an oblivious older brother.

In the weeks after Donald Trump’s inauguration, and his subsequent executive order banning travelers from seven majority Muslim countries, the dynamic appears to be changing. Last week, British prime minister Theresa May became the first world leader to visit Trump, and the occasion has already backfired on her. The visit, itself, appeared hasty and a touch desperate. There was also an unfortunate (and slightly bewildering) photograph of the two holding hands, which brought to mind the mouth-to-mouth embrace shared by Leonid Brezhnev and East Germany’s Erich Honecker in 1979. Trump and May didn’t go that far—thank God!—but the intimacy of leaders has the power to churn millions of stomachs, and so it was in the U.K.

After departing America, May subsequently flew to the quick-setting dictatorship in Turkey to discuss a £100 million arms deal. That was also not a particularly good look. Worse, while she was in the air, Trump’s controversial executive order came into force. And so May, who took off in relatively triumphant mood, landed to a press conference where reporters laughed and smirked when she was asked about the order and repeatedly refused to condemn it. Things got even worse for May when it became known that she had offered Trump a state visit, which would mean that the Queen would host the Trumps for an extended stay. There was even mention of Trump wanting to play the private golf course at Balmoral Castle, Her Majesty’s Highland residence, while she looked on. (You can imagine her face.) The former head of the Foreign Office, Lord Ricketts, wrote a letter to the Times of London suggesting that the whole visit would put the Queen “in a very difficult position,” and May would have to move fast to protect Her Majesty from controversy.

For Americans, this has all the importance of a Ruritanian tea party, but it is a big deal in Britain. One wonders if May ruthlessly used the Queen as social bait in order to become the first foreign leader permitted to see Trump. Notions that May clinched a great trade deal in the States, and thus provided a crucial market for British goods in its post-Brexit landscape, was quickly disparaged. And the idea that Trump would be asked to address the House of Parliament, as part of the visit, has almost had some M.P.s projectile vomiting. Nearly 80 members signed a motion deploring the executive order and calling on the parliamentary authorities and the May government to withhold the invitation. The debate on his state visit will be held in the House of Commons on February 20.

Meanwhile, across the country, a new generation of demonstrators, inspired by the women’s march, took to the streets in surprisingly large numbers to protest the executive order. Trump is proving quite a unifying force here, even in these days of division, and if he comes, hundreds of thousands may demonstrate. Feelings are running high—not against America, as was the case during the Vietnam War demonstrations of the late 60s, and the Iraq marches in 2003—but specifically against the very bad odor that arises from the White House. To many, Trump looks and smells like a tyrant, and they are not going to sit idly by—not, as they would have it, like their European forebears did in the 30s.