The Prime Minster
won a victory, of sorts, yesterday in the House of Commons, although there were
probably few people as surprised as her.
It’s a curious sort of victory though which is achieved by voting
against her own proposal, and demanding that her own supporters do likewise in
order to support instead a position that she herself said
was “impossible” just a few weeks ago, and which, apparently, the EU’s leaders
had told her just hours before she encouraged MPs to vote for it was not going
to be on the table. Still, believing six
impossible things before Brexit is the new norm in the Tory Party. When she previously said that there was “no
alternative” to her deal, it now seems that what she meant to say was that there
was “no alternative other than the undefined one that is now the new one to
which there is no alternative”.
She’s trapped in
a parallel universe entirely of her own manufacture where every escape route
back to normality is blocked by the inherent contradictions of her own party,
reinforced by the results of her consistent inconsistency and refusal to accept
fact. She has given herself up as a hostage to a
gang of zealots for the sole reason that her biggest red line is that she is
determined to do the one thing that most of those zealots don’t actually give a
damn about anyway, namely to control immigration from the EU, in the apparent
belief that all those who voted for Brexit to stop immigration were really
saying that they wanted more Indians instead of Poles. Some people feel almost
sorry for her – that’s entirely misplaced.
The people I feel sorry for are the negotiators of the EU who are vainly
trying to comprehend the apparent determination of the leaders of a soon-to-be
ex-member to press the self-destruction button.
Yet still the
zealots persist with the fantasy that the EU will “blink and offer us better terms”, roll over, and give the UK what
it wants despite the fact that that would mean abandoning the interests of a
member state in favour of a non-member and risking the integrity of the single
market which the UK itself did so much to help them create.
There is a yawning
gap in ideology and world view between the UK and the EU, and the hall-mark of
any successful negotiation – recognising what the other side wants – has been
completely absent from the UK’s approach from the outset. The world view driving the extreme Brexiteers
is based on competition and the notion that size and power determine outcomes and that the weak
and small should be bulldozed aside in pursuit of that. It’s compounded, of course, by a
self-estimate of the size and power of the UK in the modern world which owes
more to the 18th Century than the 21st; but they really can’t
understand why the EU isn’t playing by the same rules. From this perspective, Ireland is peripheral,
just a bit of collateral damage as the big boys carve up the spoils. The founding principle of the EU, on the
other hand, was economic integration, driven by a determination that Europe –
and most especially, France and Germany – could never tear the continent apart
in another war if their industries were sufficiently interdependent. The Single Market may well have been a
UK-inspired idea, but it fits perfectly with that perspective. And the idea that European states stand or
fall together is an underlying driver of the determination to protect Ireland
from the folly of its nearest neighbour.
There is no
meeting of minds between these perspectives, although I suspect that the EU
understand the UK perspective very well – probably better than the current UK
government does. The unicorn analogy to
Brexit has been overdone – including by me – but the Independent came out with
another interesting analogy yesterday, asking us to “imagine for a moment that the House of Commons passed a bill to repeal
the laws of gravity, and ordered the prime minister to go away and implement it”. In some ways it’s no sillier than what the
House of Commons actually did yesterday, but the idea that they can do such a
thing highlights the effect of a belief that sovereignty is absolute and
indivisible and vested by God in one place.
This is the fiction at the heart of the UK’s unwritten constitution;
Brexit has brought home to some of us the scale of the problems posed by a
constitution founded on a fiction. Unfortunately, the opposition party in
Westminster is as wedded to the fiction as the governing party, severely
limiting the opportunity for reform whilst we remain hitched to Westminster.