If French voters, unsettled by the revolt of the Yellow Vests, are tempted to use referendums to enhance the democratic process, they should look at the sad spectacle across the Channel: the British people trying to pick up the shards of their future after their House of Commons rejected the Brexit deal that Prime Minister Theresa May had spent 18 months negotiating with the European Union — on the basis of a referendum.
It is hard to think of a more powerful deterrent. For three years, Continental Europe has watched with bewilderment, despair and exasperation as the world’s oldest democracy embarked on a path that no country has tried before: leaving the European Union.
We watched a young, ambitious British prime minister, David Cameron, gamble that the June 23, 2016, referendum would strengthen Britain’s position within the union because the vote would be to remain. We watched him fail, resign and disappear. After a referendum campaign marred by fake news, lies, false promises and attacks against immigrants, we watched Westminster’s lively political culture plunge into chaos.
We watched a former empire, winner of two world wars, aspire to become Singapore upon Thames. We watched Brexit ministers under Mrs. May, confused by incoherent policies and a nightmarish negotiation, throw in one towel after another. And we are now observing, dumbfounded, the growing possibility of a second referendum, promoted by smart but desperate people, convinced that it will undo the first one, which approved Brexit by 51.9 percent.
From the Continent rises a clamor of “Oh, no, not another one!”
Ironically, the Brexit referendum was won on the promise to “take back control.” Sometimes we wondered whether the British had lost not only control but also their minds. We came to dread conversations with our dearest friends from England, now so obsessed with Brexit that they would forget to mention the weather. As journalists, we felt sympathy for heartbroken British diplomats putting a brave face on a decision that they had to carry out, when deep down they knew they were heading to disaster.
But most of all, this process has taught us about the strength of the European Union in a way that we never suspected.
There was Mrs. May’s surrealistic, elegant love letter to the union, “our closest friend,” to ask for divorce, on March 28, 2017. You don’t so easily put an end to 44 years of shared life. Activating Article 50 of the Lisbon Treaty to start the process of separation, the prime minister insisted that Europe should “remain strong and prosperous, capable of projecting its values, leading in the world.”
“Perhaps now more than ever,” she wrote, “the world needs the liberal, democratic values of Europe.” So, one wondered, why on earth leave it? Indeed, Mrs. May herself was initially a “Remainer” but would end up exhausting her meager political capital fighting to deliver the opposite: Such was her fate, and such was the absurdity of Brexit.
by Sylvie Kauffmann, NY Times | Read more:
Image: Thomas Paterson
It is hard to think of a more powerful deterrent. For three years, Continental Europe has watched with bewilderment, despair and exasperation as the world’s oldest democracy embarked on a path that no country has tried before: leaving the European Union.
We watched a young, ambitious British prime minister, David Cameron, gamble that the June 23, 2016, referendum would strengthen Britain’s position within the union because the vote would be to remain. We watched him fail, resign and disappear. After a referendum campaign marred by fake news, lies, false promises and attacks against immigrants, we watched Westminster’s lively political culture plunge into chaos.
We watched a former empire, winner of two world wars, aspire to become Singapore upon Thames. We watched Brexit ministers under Mrs. May, confused by incoherent policies and a nightmarish negotiation, throw in one towel after another. And we are now observing, dumbfounded, the growing possibility of a second referendum, promoted by smart but desperate people, convinced that it will undo the first one, which approved Brexit by 51.9 percent.
From the Continent rises a clamor of “Oh, no, not another one!”
Ironically, the Brexit referendum was won on the promise to “take back control.” Sometimes we wondered whether the British had lost not only control but also their minds. We came to dread conversations with our dearest friends from England, now so obsessed with Brexit that they would forget to mention the weather. As journalists, we felt sympathy for heartbroken British diplomats putting a brave face on a decision that they had to carry out, when deep down they knew they were heading to disaster.
But most of all, this process has taught us about the strength of the European Union in a way that we never suspected.
There was Mrs. May’s surrealistic, elegant love letter to the union, “our closest friend,” to ask for divorce, on March 28, 2017. You don’t so easily put an end to 44 years of shared life. Activating Article 50 of the Lisbon Treaty to start the process of separation, the prime minister insisted that Europe should “remain strong and prosperous, capable of projecting its values, leading in the world.”
“Perhaps now more than ever,” she wrote, “the world needs the liberal, democratic values of Europe.” So, one wondered, why on earth leave it? Indeed, Mrs. May herself was initially a “Remainer” but would end up exhausting her meager political capital fighting to deliver the opposite: Such was her fate, and such was the absurdity of Brexit.
Image: Thomas Paterson