I feel as if a little part of who I am is struggling to survive. A little part that has been nurtured and has grown since, as a teenager, I marvelled at the liberal values and writings of Robert Kennedy and Dr Martin Luther King.

It’s the part that grew up regarding US history as testament that a people can use lessons of a divided past to create a society that offers opportunity for all.

And it’s the same part of me that’s always been so proud that I have family amongst those tired and huddled masses who were welcomed with open arms to a nation founded on that simple, yet beautiful, declaration:

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”

That’s the promise of the United States. A promise to which so many have trusted their futures, and their dreams. But it’s a promise that today seems under threat.

Perhaps not all are equally welcome.

The cruel irony is that the threat comes from one whose own forebears trusted their future to that promise. Whose mother left the Hebrides to live the epitome of the American dream.

Last year I visited the United States three times. I love the place. And the people. Its culture, its literature and its politics. Today I doubt I will visit again, for at least four years.

That’s not a stand I take easily. I have friends I would love to see. Places I may not get another chance to visit. But looking at the immediate impact of Trump’s Presidency I am not sure that I want to experience it up close.

What is the moral imperative now guiding America?

Of course there are aspects of life and politics in the US with which I have always differed, often argued, with American friends about. I prefer our health care system, even with all its problems. I feel much more secure in our stricter anti-gun culture. I often find their politics a little more to the right than my own instincts.

But those differences and the debates they provoke are what is part of what makes democracy so wonderful, and our relationship so special. Through debate and creative discussion you find the way ahead. Only by listening to others can you see the potential flaws in your own ideas and strategies, and find improvement.

On the last of those three visits last year I travelled to Virginia to observe, and help where I could, the campaign to elect Hillary Clinton 45^th President. At no time did I regard the former Senator and Secretary of State as the least worst option, particularly for those of us living firth of the US, but dependent on a strong cohesive administration to bolster world security.

No. I saw Hillary as the best, most liberal, most reforming option.

Neither did I see Donald Trump as some dangerous demagogue, or a threat to the established order. I thought he simply was not qualified for the job. When the shock of his victory was met by reassurance from many of those on the right of British politics that it wasn’t really that bad.  Or pleas to give him a chance to prove his worth. I hoped they were right. Now I fear there can be no doubt they were mistaken.

When a British Prime Minister instructs her Foreign and Home Secretaries to make representations to the US about policy, you cannot help but feel you are in uncharted territory. It may yet, of course, be fine. Reason may prevail. These first few days of walls, deportations and bans may be some exaggerated muscle-flexing exercise. Let’s hope so.

But even though I find the situation we now face challenges so much of what I thought America is, that little part of me is refusing to give in. Refusing to accept that this really is America. It’s certainly not the American that the majority of the people voted for.

And then at the 11^th hour the wisdom of the founding fathers, the same men who wrote that most beautiful of declarations, came to the rescue. Their system of checks and balances so cherished by Americans allowed the judiciary to block the President’s executive order. But it may be only temporary respite.

In all sections of US society there are citizens, judges and senators like Elizabeth Warren standing up against, what they see as an assault on Americanism. But they need to know they have our support. Never before, perhaps, has the special relationship mattered so much to Americans. Our Prime Minister tells us she can be frank with the President if necessary. She has asked her ministers to speak to their counterparts in Washington. It’s a start.

Perhaps that little part of my ideals that is struggling will survive yet.

* Christine Jardine is MP for Edinburgh West and spokesperson for Women & Equalities and Scotland