Theresa May’s heading back to Brussels yet again. Where the Europeans will almost certainly tell her she can’t have what she wants. Yet again. All this just days after parliament also told her the answer’s no. Yet again. Somehow or other she still paints on a smile for the cameras. But our Political Correspondent Peter Spencer suspects she peels it off at bedtime.
Picture the scene. Upstairs in Downing Street. Thursday night. It’s late, and Theresa and Philip are under the duvet.
She’s in her flowery nightie, hair in curlers, face covered in skin cream.
He’s tired. She’s wired.
‘Thing is about democracy,’ she splutters, ‘you can please some of the people all of the time’.
‘Yes, dear’. Philip thinks that’ll shut her up. He’s wrong.
‘You can also please all of the people some of the time’.
‘Mmmm. Right as always, dear’. Surely that’ll do the trick. Fat chance. She’s sitting up now. Quivering. Not in a good way, not like on their honeymoon.
‘But what you can’t do is please all of the people all of the time’.
Strikes Philip when it comes to Brexit she can’t please anybody, ever. He’d be patting her on the head, but for the curlers.
Actually, spare a thought for the poor woman.
The referendum wasn’t her idea. It was simply a gift to those parliamentarians whose very existence hinges on one thing and one thing only. Getting Britain out.
Unlike the remainers, who just think it’s really not a good idea, these guys are ready to die in a ditch over it. Always have been.
Seems only yesterday, during the political crisis over the Maastricht Treaty that forged closer political ties across Europe, that many of those same folk were strutting around, puffing up their little chests and loving their five minutes of fame.
‘Bastards’ was John Major’s description of choice. From the prime ministerial perspective, you can see his point.
May’s not one for rude words. But that Thursday night after they’d once again put one on her, helping inflict a 45-vote defeat on her steady-as-she-goes commons motion, Philip might have had a few choice terms for them on her behalf.
They’d got the hump over the very thought that she might, just might, be minded to rule out leaving the EU without a deal.
So much for her plan to go back to Brussels flanked by the legions of British parliamentarians. Britannia rools, ok?
Instead, she’ll be limping back on her tod to try and get Europeans to okay something it’s already refused – a change to the insurance policy designed to prevent all hell breaking out in Ireland if everything goes horribly wrong.
With only weeks to go before UK’s planned departure, there’s a growing feeling that’s where we’re at anyway. Ford is just the latest motor manufacturer to warn it could well move production abroad if we don’t get a deal. The Dutch Prime Minister has said his country is already reaping a relocation harvest. And no fewer than forty former ambassadors have said it’s imperative we get more time to sort ourselves out.
Problem is that looks like never. Back in the 1970s, the question was asked seriously ‘is Britain ungovernable?’ Scroll forward to now, and parliament looks like it certainly is. Dark talk of cabinet members quitting if May is too snitty with Europe, or not snitty enough, and of shadow cabinet members boxing in Jeremy Corbyn in the same way.
And it’s no longer a question of honourable members having disagreements, more a matter of them hating one another. One C word replaced by another. Compromise? Not. More a matter of what they’re calling one another. That’ll be the other C word then.
Yup. It’s hateful. More darkest than finest hour. And that slice of history is what it’s all about.
Back in 1951 the then French Foreign Minister, Robert Schuman, set out his vision for a peaceful future. It was the European Union in embryo, the European Coal and Steel Community. These materials are essential to any war effort, so countries that pool production can’t really fight one another. France, Germany and the Benelux countries signed up. With an almighty sigh of relief. Still being heaved by those who are rooting for the EU.
And those who aren’t? Well, Germany is the biggest economy in the bloc and its most influential member. So there’s a Brexiteer school of thought that says if we Brits stick around the Hun won after all.
It’s that simple. And that polarised. Which is why parliament’s shenanigans fit so well to the military acronym SNAFU. Situation Normal, all F****d Up.
Peter Spencer has 40 years experience as a Political Correspondent in Westminster, working with London Broadcasting and Sky News. For more of his fascinating musings on the turbulent political landscape, follow him on Facebook & Twitter.
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