Loping towards the
burning fires fuelled with the broken hopes of gullible voters, the knuckle
dragging denizens of comfortable wealth look towards their warm future with
undisguised relish as they realize that, once again, the people who could have
made a difference have, once again, voted against their own interests and
allowed the arrogant, the privileged, the entitled and the callous to do what
they do best: gloat.
As with virtually
all aspects of Brexit, the idea that today is the eve of something tangible is actually
as diaphanous as the reality that the Liars’ Liar paraded during the election
campaign. There will be no real Brexit
tomorrow. Things will go on going on and
little will actually be settled. The
only actualite will be the issuing of a “celebratory” 50p piece (without
the Oxford comma) which at least gives we Remainers something concrete to
spurn!
Meanwhile,
whatever the tousled-haired tosser says, the interminably sad saga of Brexit
goes on. And on. And on.
He might be able to ban the word itself from the discourse of
government, but Brexit is yet to be achieved.
Amazingly (or not,
if you have been following the tortuous and torturing progress of the Conservative
Party throwing the country under the bus [the one with 350m quid on its side]
to persevere its existence) we still do not actually know what has really
been decided and we still have no confidence that we will depart with a comprehensive
deal.
At least in Spain
we Brits think that we have some sort of deal which allows us to sleep at night,
with pension and healthcare taken care of – unless things fall apart, and we do
eventually crash out finally and catastrophically. For we people, Brits living in Europe (or
rather The Rest of Europe as Britain has decided that it is not part of the
continent on whose shelf it is perched) we have another eleven months of
uncertainty as we see our futures in the hands of the third-rate chancers that
now govern us, being used as bargaining chips in what will surely turn out to
be a depressingly one sided negotiation.
I don’t want this
to turn into yet another Moan from somebody who has still not come to terms
with the result – though it is difficult (if not impossible) to get the sense of
unreality out of one’s mind. The British
electorate have done what they have done, for whatever reasons and we have to
accept that the system by which we are governed allows this travesty to happen.
It would be easy
to roam around Cassandra-like bemoaning the horrible reality, but one has to
try and fine something positive to take from the debacle.
I once asked my
mother whether she had considered that Britain could have lost when she was
living through World War Two and she replied that she never, for one moment,
ever considered the prospect of defeat. I
pointed out that there were times when the situation of Britain looked dire and
the German military machine looked unstoppable.
She accepted that there had been bad times, but, as she put it, “I
always knew that we would muddle through!
Eventually.”
You could, of
course look at that sort of attitude as one of self-delusion – but she was
right.
I have often
thought about my mother’s attitude during the bleaker times of the on-going
process of Brexit and thought that the British do seem to have a sort of
ability to “muddle through” and “make the best of it” no matter how negative
things look.
I do not wish my
country ill. I want the country to
prosper. I want a decent NHS and
education and transport. I want full employment
and so on. I have absolutely no desire
to see my country come to harm just so that I can point towards the architects
of the chaos and say, “I told you so!”
That petty triumph will mean the defeat of so many who are less able to
defend themselves than the comfortable hypocrites of the Conservative Party as
they carefully move their wealth off-shore or to EU states so that they can buttress
themselves against the storm that the self-inflicted harm of Brexit could bring.
We might have made
things more difficult for ourselves, but those are the obstacles that we have
to surmount. And I am sure that we
will. We will find a way to play our
part in the continent of which we are, self-evidently, a crucial part. But, just like Universal Credit, a reasonable
idea badly administered will have casualties.
People will die, as they have done as a result of IDS’s botched
fiasco. But the casualties need to be
limited.
I feel resentment
and anger about what is going to be done in my name. But resentment and anger are negative and the
division that has and will rip the country apart must, somehow be overcome if
we all are to prosper.
I will be nauseated
by any celebration of the dark day that Brexit signifies, but more important
than my disgust is my willingness to work to mitigate the effects of the policy
and to remember that a country is composed of more than Guardian readers. And listeners
to Radio 4.
And that is
something that I will have to accept.
All societies are plural and diverse.
Let us hope that the obvious talent and enterprise of our country can
show a way to bring us together.
I wait to be
convinced.
