How did the UK get to this sorry pass?
Girish Shahane/Scroll In
Is there a more pathetic-looking nation today than the one on whose dominions, for more than a hundred years, the sun never set? I grant there are a few. It is instructive, however, that the question does not sound deranged, as it would if asked about New Zealand, or Taiwan, or Rwanda. There are five actors in the interminable theatre of Brexit, of whom two have reason on their side. The European Union says, “You voted to leave, so leave.” The Leavers say, “We voted to leave, so let’s leave.” But the government, the opposition, and many who voted Remain cannot or will not take the play to its logical conclusion. Consider, first, the party in power. In 2015, a supposedly close race between the Conservatives and Labour turned into a substantial victory for the former. As prime minister, David Cameron had five more years clear to get the economy in shape. Instead, he called a referendum on the United Kingdom’s membership of the European Union. 1975 poll
The UK had already conducted such a referendum in 1975, and over two-thirds of those who voted had elected to remain in the European Community, as it was then called. Following that poll, the UK carved out a distinctive semi-isolationist niche within the EU, refusing to join the Eurozone or the Schengen Area. Yet, the pressure to leave only grew. The wise thing for Remainers to have done was sit tight and let the Leavers whinge. The Tories had promised a referendum, but it would not be the first promise politicians had broken. Cameron, though, was overcome with hubris following his election triumph, as also the Remain victory in the Scottish independence referendum of 2014. With most political parties officially supporting Remain, along with a large majority of intellectuals, big business owners and media houses, a trifecta appeared a done deal. Though named David, Cameron was the well-armed Goliath of the Brexit referendum, brought down by the slingshots of a bunch of inexperienced, incoherent and underfunded activists. Out he went, having sought glory only to find ignominy, and in came Theresa May. Not long after taking office, she triggered Article 50, the legal process for withdrawing from the European Union. It left the UK and the European Union two years to work out their post-break-up relationship. May had no clue about where that negotiation would land, nor its prospects in Parliament. Having learned nothing from Cameron’s fall, she gambled on a snap poll, expecting a resounding mandate from the Leave faction. Instead, the election produced a hung parliament. She kept up a brave face, but now depended on the Democratic Unionist Party, a Eurosceptic Protestant outfit from Northern Ireland. This created an impossible obstacle for her. The UK had signed an agreement with the Republic of Ireland two decades previously, which guaranteed a largely open border between the north and south of the island. The only way of staying true to that guarantee after Brexit was to create some form of customs barrier between the island of Ireland and the island of Great Britain, something the Unionists would not allow. When May brought her finished deal to parliament, it was soundly rejected. She asked for a second vote on the same deal, and was defeated once more. Her response was to ask for yet another vote, perhaps hoping that divine intervention would change the minds of MPs, but the gods seemed callously indifferent to Brexit diplomacy. Thus fell Theresa May, making way for Boris, a clown in 10, Downing Street, eager to serve as sidekick to the joker of 1600, Pennsylvania Avenue.