I can’t remember
exactly when (although I think it was towards the end of the 1970s) but many
years ago Atholl Cameron from the SNP spoke at a Plaid event and told us a
story about a cruise she’d been on in the Mediterranean. The engines on the British ship broke down
and the ship was waiting for an engineer to come on board to make repairs. There was also another problem on board, as a
result of which the kitchens were unable to prepare hot food for the
travellers. The passengers were sitting
in the dining room stoically eating cold food in a drifting ship in the middle
of the sea, and a fellow diner, from England, said, “Doesn’t it make you proud to be British?”. Atholl’s cutting response was that she’d have
been a great deal prouder if the ship was underway and they were eating a
cooked meal.
The memory was
prompted by the prime minister’s claim last week in relation to possible
stockpiling of food and medicines that we should all feel reassured that the
government was taking the necessary steps to protect us from the worst-case
outcome of Brexit. In truth, I’d feel
much more reassured, and have rather more confidence in the government, if they
hadn’t taken us to a position where they seriously need even to consider
stockpiling food and medicines. It tells
us something, though, about Theresa May’s concept of Britishness. Like the English passenger on that cruise
ship, she sees virtue in the ability to respond to adversity with stoicism and
resignation, to find a way of somehow muddling through. For those who think that way, there is
something profoundly un-British about having a concept and a fall-back plan
before starting in order to avoid getting into such a situation in the first
place – that’s the sort of thing that only Europeans do. It helps to explain the gulf in understanding
between the two sides and how we’ve got to where we are.
The interesting
part of the decision, since rescinded, to release information gradually over
the summer about the status of preparations for a ‘no-deal’ Brexit is that it
was apparently taken to placate Brexiteers, by publicly demonstrating to
Barnier that the UK was ready to simply walk away. It was a cunning plan of Baldrickian
proportions, but it appears not to have occurred to the devisers of the plan
that telling the world about the preparations being undertaken might just have
an impact on the domestic audience as well, by highlighting the scale of the
potential problems. The expectation was
that we would all display that famous British stoicism and take pride in the
way that our ‘proud island nation’ was preparing to respond to those beastly
Europeans. Instead of which it seems
that those responsible for drip-feeding the details to the public have now
realised that it’s more likely that the public would panic and never vote
Conservative again. As a ‘senior source’
told the Sunday
Times (paywall), “People will shit
themselves and think they want a new referendum or think the Tory party shouldn’t
govern again”.
The rather
patronising suggestion that people might only ‘think’ they want another
referendum (with its implicit assumption that ‘we know they don’t really’), like
the rest of this not-so-cunning plan, reveals, yet again, the extent to which
the Brexiteers’ world view is mired in an idealised past in which people did and
thought as they were told, and blind patriotism and deference to their ‘betters’
were enough to allow the government of the day to get away with almost
anything. But blind patriotism doesn’t keep
a ship moving through the sea; neither can it turn Brexit into a triumph.
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