How Brexit Descended into ‘Braos’

National Review Online, March 28, 2019

Theresa-May-Gurn.jpg

Loosening the ties that bound the U.K. into the EU was always going to be complicated. Dropping out of Brussels’ relentless trudge towards political integration is not in itself too great a challenge, but doing so in a way that minimizes the damage to Britain’s economic access to its European markets is an entirely different matter. To Brussels, economic and political integration are inextricably intertwined. Preserving as much of the benefit of the former while escaping the latter needs patience, diplomatic savvy, a realistic understanding of the EU’s workings, and the ability to weigh the strength (or otherwise) of the U.K.’s negotiating position. Since the Brexit vote on June 23, 2016, Britain’s Conservative government has displayed no sign of any of these qualities.

None. Not one.

This was an operation calling for a scalpel. Theresa May chose to try her luck with a blunt, rusty saw. The result has been a predictably bloody mess. After dithering and then overplaying her hand, May came up with a scheme — the Chequers Plan — that was received with disdain in the U.K. and which the EU threw back in her face.

May ploughed on. London and Brussels have now structured a two-part deal. The first part, the Withdrawal Agreement, which would be legally binding, governs the terms of the U.K.’s departure from the EU. Its provisions include a transition period ending on December 31, 2020. The second, the non-binding Political Declaration, sketches out Britain’s longer-term relationship with the bloc. It envisages an “ambitious, broad, deep and flexible partnership”. Sounds good, but before reaching that happy state, Brits can expect a brutal trade negotiation in which the skeptic isle will be trying to cut the best deal it can with a greedy, aggrieved and much larger counterparty. As it does so, London will also have to keep a sharp eye on the clock. This new “partnership” must be in place by the conclusion of the transition period (which can be extended by one to two years).

All this assumes that the U.K. has entered the Withdrawal Agreement. If its terms have not been accepted by Parliament before April 12, the U.K. can request a much longer extension (the original date for Brexit Day, incidentally, was March 29). Alternatively, Britain can either give up on Brexit (it is able do this unilaterally) or abandon any attempt to enter into the agreement, in which case it will face a “no deal” Brexit from April 12, a grim prospect, euphemistically known by more Panglossian Euroskeptics as the WTO option. If, on the other hand, the U.K. signs up for the agreement and — a detail not to be forgotten — the agreement is ratified by the European Parliament and approved by the EU’s other member states, it will leave the EU on May 22 and the transition period will begin.

As things currently stand, it is (to put it mildly) uncertain that the Withdrawal Agreement can get through Parliament. A flawed prime minister acting on flawed premises has, not unsurprisingly, negotiated a flawed deal. Some of its drawbacks were inevitable, but that does not ease their sting. During the transition period, the U.K. will effectively be a voteless member of the EU, a rule-taker with no say: It will be the “vassal state” of Euroskeptic rhetoric, a condition made yet more aggravating by the fact that the U.K. will be paying a large divorce bill (roughly £39 billion). What has caused the most trouble, however, is the so-called Irish backstop.

Whatever the rights, wrongs, and necessity of the backstop, the intention behind it (at least nominally: there are other darker theories) is to avoid a potentially destabilizing “hard” border between Northern Ireland and the Irish Republic. It provides that, prior to reaching a permanent agreement satisfactory to all sides (how long will that take?) that defuses the border problem, the U.K. will enter into a “single customs territory” with the EU, a state of affairs that theoretically could endure for years. Among other problems, this would mean putting a brake on Britain’s plans to cut its own trade deals independent of Brussels, a major reason (to some) for Brexit. In an additional twist of the knife, for as long as the backstop is in force, Northern Ireland will be obliged to remain in closer regulatory alignment with the EU than will the rest of the U.K.. This would insert a degree of separation between Britain and the province, an extraordinarily sensitive issue for Ulster’s Protestant majority and more than a touch embarrassing for the Tories, a party formally known as the Conservative and Unionist Party. Wait, there’s more: Since May threw away her parliamentary majority in 2017’s election campaign, her government has been dependent on the support of Northern Ireland’s (Protestant) Democratic Unionist Party. The D.U.P. really, really, doesn’t like the backstop.

The Withdrawal Agreement’s debut in the 650-member House of Commons in January was not a success. It was defeated by a majority of 230, the biggest loss by any British government in modern (and perhaps not just modern) history. Accompanied, after talks with Brussels, by what lawyers, rarely reassuringly, call a comfort letter, the agreement returned to Westminster’s Orient Express on March 13, only to be murdered again. This time it was felled by a majority of 149, merely the fourth-largest such loss on record: progress of a sort, but alarming with less than three weeks to go before that original March 29 deadline (the extension was only agreed to on March 21).

With Brussels insisting the Withdrawal Agreement was not up for renegotiation, May’s strategy appeared to be to keep repeating the same question, and bet that a glimpse of the approaching abyss would scare MPs into submission. On March 14, the House of Commons passed a motion against leaving the EU without a deal — a nice gesture, but “no deal” remains the default position. If nothing is agreed, Britain crashes out of the EU. The abyss, however, has not proved as terrifying as the prime minister might (quite reasonably) have hoped. Based on very little evidence, some Tories, particularly those associated with the European Research Group — a group noted for the depth of its Euroskepticism and the shallowness of its research — contended that the abyss was little more than a ditch. Other Conservatives seem to be relying on the EU’s tradition of cutting last-minute deals, apparently oblivious to the distinction between going the extra mile for someone staying in the club and for someone on the way out. Meanwhile there are many in the opposition Labour party who are well aware that a chaotic Brexit will do their election chances no harm.

May’s plan to keep asking MPs the same question has since run into an unanticipated obstacle. On March 18, John Bercow, the Speaker of the House of Commons (a somewhat Napoleonic figure, minus hat and achievements), ruled, citing a principle dating back to 1604, that the agreement could not be put to the vote again without “substantial changes.” Changes, in other words, of a type that Brussels had already said it would not consider.

In another sign that power is sliding away from May’s spavined government and towards the legislature, MPs then decided to hold a series of “indicative” votes on (broadly) the type of Brexit they would like to see. It was an innovative response to the current impasse. The EU is unwilling to give any more time to allow for discussion of a deal that Parliament has no intention of passing, but if a form of Brexit could be found that had the support of the Commons, well, who knows? There has, after all, been some talk of longer extensions.

That said, Parliament’s effort to find some sort of resolution did not start well. Eight “next steps” were presented to MPs on Wednesday, and eight “next steps” were rejected. The madness of “no deal” was heavily defeated, but by less of a margin than the fantasy of “managed” no deal. Both, naturally, outperformed the eminently sensible “Norway option,” as did both Labour’s ludicrously unrealistic “plan” and “Common Market 2.0,” a less attractive variant of Norway. A suggestion that Article 50 should be revoked in the event of an imminent no deal was rejected a little more decisively than I might have expected. The two proposals that came closest to passing were a call for a second referendum to confirm Brexit and a suggestion that the U.K. should enter into a customs union with the EU but avoid the Single Market. The Institute of Economic Affairs’ Kristian Niemietz has previously described the latter combination (which would, by the way, do nothing to resolve the backstop conundrum) as “throwing away the burger and eating the napkin.”

So what now? Courtesy of some procedural sleight of hand, there will be a third vote on the Withdrawal Agreement on Friday, supposedly made more enticing by May’s offer to step down if its passing leads to Brexit. At the time of writing, it did not seem as if that long-overdue promise would be enough to do the trick. The DUP remain opposed as, it seems, do many of those Euroskeptic “researchers.” The Withdrawal Agreement might not be the only revenant. There’s already talk of another round of indicative votes next week, and backers of a number of the options are promising that next time, things will be different. Maybe.

Best guess? Brexit will still take place: The how and the when remain a mystery.

Tick, tock.