H-Nationalism is pleased to publish here a further contribution to its ongoing 'Brexit, Nationalism and the Future of Europe' forum, which discusses the United Kingdom’s decision to leave the European Union and its impact on nationalism and the future of Europe in a multidisciplinary perspective. Please feel welcome to add to the discussion by posting a reply. Today's contribution is by John Lloyd, who argues that another UK referendum on membership of the European Union would be undemocratic. John Lloyd is a Columnist for Reuters and a Contributing Editor to the Financial Times.
In the “careful what you wish for” stakes, few issues rank higher than the plan for a second referendum put forward by those in the UK hoping for a reversal of the country’s June 2016 vote to leave the European Union (the “Remainers”). If secured, the outcome could be a fast track to a phenomenon the UK has so far avoided – the creation of a large, angry populist party, probably of the right and perhaps also of the left.
That would be very bad news for the UK, for its politics, for Europe, and for the cause of democracy generally. It would be seen, with some justice, as “they” crushing the democratic vote of “we the people.”
The second referendum plan is justified by arguing that the British people deserve to have a choice between the government’s Brexit proposal, agreed by Theresa May’s cabinet with difficulty in November and voted down by parliament on Dec. 11 (it will be re-presented to the House of Commons in the week beginning January 14), and that of scrapping Brexit altogether. The electorate, the Remainers argue, will make an informed choice rather than a mere expression of frustration with the EU, as in 2016.
But of course, the organizers hope for a reversal of Brexit. They believe the electorate is frightened by the prospect of slower growth, or even an economic shock from crashing out without a plan – both warnings put out by Bank of England Governor Mark Carney, supported by an official government analysis.
No country is an island, not even one that is on two islands, like the United Kingdom. The surge of often violent militancy in France, left and right united against the centrist and once popular President Emmanuel Macron and his République en Marche party, is the most vivid and frightening example of the confrontation between “us” and “them.” But the disaffection is deep and wide in the rest of Europe, and – as Yves Leterme, former prime minister of Belgium warned in June – the populists are united by “their refusal to play by the rules of conventional politics.”
In France, what began as a more or less conventional protest, mainly in the provinces, against a fuel price rise transformed itself into something like a revolution. A promise to suspend the fuel tax increases for six months was followed by more rioting. In mid December, the government surrendered completely, taking the rises out of the 2019 budget, with no threat of their renewal.
This, from an administration which had appeared the most resolute and confident in Europe, with a president who only a few weeks ago made a virtue of not following his predecessors in his office in backing down in face of protests, is a terrible warning to European governments – and perhaps more widely in the democratic world. France seems to demonstrate that the democratic choice of an administration one year is vulnerable to a wave of militant anger the next. If that confirms itself as a trend, the knell for democracy surely tolls.
How likely is such a trend? There’s no steady political weathervane pointing in only one direction. In Germany, where the fears of a far-right surge are most impregnated with 20th century horrors, the Alternative for Germany hit a high of 17 percent in a late summer poll, only to fall away to 12 percent in regional elections in Bavaria and Hesse, where the leftist Green Party surged.
Italy’s national populist coalition government remains popular, and the deputy Prime Minister Matteo Salvini, Italy’s most prominent politician and an outspoken opponent of immigration, proposes liberalizing gun ownership laws, courting fears of the rise of a gun lobby as powerful as that in the United States. Italy’s government is locked in a struggle with the EU over a budget, agreed between Brussels and the previous centre-left administration, which the populist coalition refuses to observe. Neither side can afford to back down: compromises have been made, but will only prolong the period when a reckoning must be made.
In Spain, once seen as immune to right-wing populism, a new force grows. Vox, a national populist party came from nowhere to win 12 seats in the regional parliament of Andalusia in December, and may enter government there with a manifesto that was much more about national than regional issues - issues such as control of immigration, more power to a centralized national government, promotion of increased awareness of Spain’s contribution to civilization and more.
That Andalusia voters should respond with enthusiasm to a party which wants power to flow back from the regions to the centre shows a large disaffection with Spain’s system of devolved rule – a system which has produced a continuing standoff between separatists in Catalonia and the government in Madrid. The quarrel, says the Catalan commentator Juan José López Burniol, “has a massive ability to destabilize the whole of Spain.”
Burniol’s comment applies to all of Europe. The national populists have not won – though they pin large hopes on a much-increased vote in the European elections in May 2019 – but they are extremely destabilizing. Sweden is struggling to form a government because the far-right Swedish Democrats hold the balance of power, and no mainstream party will coalesce with them.
In Austria, the radical right party, FPÖ, is the junior partner in a right-wing coalition which stresses restrictions on immigration – and outrages liberals by attacks on the state broadcaster, alleged efforts to suppress investigations into racist behaviour by far-right supporters and (a particularly bitter issue) the government’s cancelling of a law against smoking in restaurants. No country can avoid the experience of a large group of citizens who hate what mainstream parties have done.
As in the United States, the opposition of the populists, in and out of government, to liberal policies of every kind – on immigration, ecology, gender, media, family and welfare – generates strong, consistent support. That support is fueled by a feeling, both large and deep, that the liberals and centrists have monopolized power for decades – and have failed the people. And, as Mark Lilla writes in the New York Review of Books, “ideas are being developed [on the European right], and transnational networks for disseminating them are being established.” Populism is more than thuggery.
British liberals may hope the House of Commons’ failure to pass the government’s Brexit proposals on their first appearance in the Commons will secure a second referendum to reverse the vote to leave. But it would generate class war. It will be one long hoped for on the revolutionary left: a revolution, at least in part, against a ruling class which has failed to provide either equity or decent living standards.
That sentiment is one which the left, including the far left which supports the present labour leadership, has failed to harness – because, with some exceptions (including Jeremy Corbyn, Labour’s leader) the left is pro-EU, often ardently so. It is thus distrusted by those who wish to see a return of political decision-making to the national parliament, where a clear choice for this or that party to form a government is possible and the political process, and the political players, are more or less comprehensible and familiar – options absent in the European Union. A debate within the left on what the EU presently means, and how it is likely to develop, is an urgent matter, so far avoided. But it will not happen before March this year, when the UK is set to leave the Union.
Were no parliamentary majority to be found for Theresa May’s form of Brexit, then a second referendum could find backing from the Remain majority in the Commons – though that would mean both Tories and Labour defying the leadership’s present positions, and could presage a larger re-orientation of the political forces.
It would, if agreed, take place in a country riven with dissent. Those who wish for the UK to leave the EU would react furiously to the calling of a second referendum, and even more furiously to one which brought in a “Remain” verdict. It would be a very Pyrrhic victory – and as such, worse than a hard Brexit. Ill-advised as it may have been, attended by misleading promises and dire (and wrong) forecasts as it was, the 2016 referendum was a democratic act: a consultation of the electorate. To treat the result, not as an expression of the popular will but as a mistake, would poison British public life for decades.