Next week, Brexit might actually get interesting.
After two years of screaming into the wind, the UK's elected lawmakers finally
get to do something useful.
On Tuesday, they get to have their say on Prime Minister Theresa May's deal with the European Union, as
the long-awaited "meaningful vote" hits Parliament.
Brexit is a uniquely peculiar bit of politics that has made the
UK a uniquely peculiar place.
It's no secret that the country is bitterly divided over more
than whether it should be in or out of the EU. For an issue that was once
binary (Leave; Remain), there are now innumerable desired outcomes, none of
which, we're told, command that all-important parliamentary majority.
The simplest outcome would be for May to win on Tuesday. That
would mean the UK officially leaving the EU on March 29, before starting work
on what comes next. But that "if" is so gargantuan it warrants its
own moon. Even members of May's inner circle privately admit that they expect
her to lose.
If that happens, it becomes a numbers game. A modest loss could
give May the confidence to try again. A heavy defeat, however, could kill both
her deal and her leadership. And that's where those innumerable desired
outcomes come back into play.
Possible scenarios include: an attempted (probably doomed)
renegotiation with the EU; extending the article 50 process (the mechanism by
which a member state leaves the EU); a collapse of government and general
election; a change of prime minister; a second EU referendum; a scrapping of
Brexit altogether; and crashing out with a no-deal.
It's these other outcomes -- and their proponents -- that are
worth placing under a microscope.
The various tribes have consistently hidden behind principles to
avoid endorsing an option that is *actually* on the table -- or building a
consensus behind their preference. Worse, they have decided to ignore the
real-world problems that accompany their solutions.
Call it lying, call it willful misunderstanding, whatever: in
the two-and-a-halfish years since 51.9% voted Leave, few in the UK's political
class have distinguished themselves.
Let's start with the most common breed: those who think May (or
someone else) should try to get a better deal.
We know that the Withdrawal Agreement -- the divorce and
transition to full independence -- is locked. A European diplomatic source told
me recently that this isn't a hardball negotiating position from the EU. It has
taken 28 countries the best part of two years to reach this agreement. The idea
something much better can be rushed through before the Brexit deadline is
somewhat optimistic.
And what that "better deal" might be is contentious,
too. Some MPs want to emulate a softer Norway-style arrangement, granting the
UK access to the single market; others want a looser trade agreement, not
dissimilar to the one Canada enjoys with the EU. But both options are deemed
unacceptable to the opposing camp and, crucially, neither addresses the
Northern Ireland question.
Next, the extenders. This week, the opposition Labour Party's
Brexit spokesperson, Keir Starmer, said that he thinks extending article 50 is
now "inevitable." Classic rival move. Decoded: you've done such a bad
job that Brexit is now impossible.
The logic here is that by extending, there is wiggle room to
improve the deal. Well, we already know that according to the EU, this isn't
currently an option. Besides, to extend article 50 would require going
cap-in-hand to the other 27 member states, any of whom could veto. Risky
doesn't come close. And who does Starmer think is going to lead these negotiations?
Ah yes, the government-collapsing-and-general-election strategy.
While it's possible that May's government could fall, a snap election could be
held and a new government -- led either by Labour or a new Conservative PM --
could be formed, it might be too little too late.
The man best placed to force a vote of confidence in the
government is Starmer's boss, Jeremy Corbyn. So far, he has declined to call
such a vote, and it's now perilously close to the Brexit deadline.
And even in this election scenario, it's not clear Theresa May
or her replacement would request extending article 50. So again: risky business
for a nation running out of road and ideas.
A growing number of voices now support a second referendum. The
problems with this are countless, but foremost is that it might be the biggest
political risk of all.
Back-of-a-beer-mat wargaming suggests that since Brexit has
evolved, there would now need to be more than the two options that were on the
original ballot.
For any result to be considered valid, it would almost certainly
have to pull more votes than the 17.4 million that voted to leave in 2016. A
multiple-choice ballot would not produce such a result. And if you thought the
campaign in 2016 was ugly, try this one for size: political elites are trying
to steal your Brexit from you.
Finally, we have the two most extreme ends of this whole mucky
business: the stop Brexit gang and the no-dealers.
Starting with the stop Brexiters, they have been largely ignored
because their argument seemed absurd in the face of reality. The UK said leave;
Parliament voted to trigger article 50. Done.
Then, the European Court of Justice ruled that the UK could
unilaterally revoke article 50. The scrappers were cock-a-hoop, but chose to
conveniently ignore a vital caveat: if the UK were to do so, then it must also
commit to remaining a member state.
And as for the no-dealers, well, where to start? "No deal?
Big deal!"
In their eyes, shifting to World Trade Organization terms with
the UK's largest trading partner would be fine; it can simply strike trade deals
around the world which would more than make up for its losses.
Many words have already been dedicated to why this is both
economically illiterate and downright dangerous (the UK's Health Secretary
believes that a no-deal would in fact put the lives of the sick at risk for a
myriad of reasons). So while trade deals might make up a shortfall and planes
might not fall out of the sky, hell might freeze over and pigs might fly. Most
people wouldn't bet their life savings on it.
But -- and this is crucial -- a no-deal is now the default
option. The final piece of selective honesty to address is the all-too-familiar
trope that there simply isn't a majority in Parliament for a no-deal.
There is. It was recorded on February 1, 2017, when Parliament
voted by 498 to 114 to trigger article 50. Without a deal, that means no-deal.
Post-truth politics is alive and well in the UK.
But here's the thing: in reality, all May's deal does is get the
UK into a holding pattern while everyone takes a breath and works out what
comes next. Those wanting to give her a bloody nose and hide behind their
principles choose to ignore the fact that once the UK is in transition, many of
their preferred outcomes are back on the table.
And, by the way, May herself is not exempt from this. From the
day she took over as PM, she has been peddling all sorts of nonsense (remember
"no deal is better than a bad deal"?).
Only this week, she was claiming that Parliament would be
allowed to vote on a crucial element of the withdrawal agreement coming into
force: the backstop on Northern Ireland. But the backstop is part of an
international treaty, not a bill that the UK's Parliament has the authority to
change.
The time has come for Britain's elected representatives to make
a choice on the single most important issue that the nation has faced since the
end of World War II.
Begrudge May's deal as they might, it's at least an option on
the table that she and her government have battled hard to put before the
oldest surviving Parliament. If the majority of that house chooses -- and it is
a choice -- to hide behind principle and ignore the truth, then history may
judge them cruelly. And, truthfully, it would be no less than they deserve.
