The queues, reportedly, were long; the weather, predictably, was bad; and the mood, understandably, was somber. And while the world watched them do it, the people of Britain last Thursday went to the polls to cast their historic (by now the term has become a cliché, but what else to call it) vote on whether they should stay in the European Union or shoot themselves in the foot by leaving it. Unless you were visiting planet Mars that day, you would know by now that Brexiteers carried the day.
And, folks, it is not going to be an amicable divorce. Forget the toxic wrangling that is sure to come over the next two years or so regarding how much accrues to who in the divorce settlement. If you want a preamble of the hostile feelings the continent already harbors about Britain’s “traitrise” (roughly “backstabbing” in French), then consider what Martin Schulz, president of the European Parliament had to say, hours after Brexit: “We want Britain out as soon as possible,” adding that “speeding up” the exit is being considered after “the continent was taken hostage.”
And, no, the European Union will not delay the start of negotiations, as London prefers, until a successor to David Cameron is chosen by the Conservative Party Conference in October. “That may not be fast enough,” intoned Schultz. Can you hear the rancor in the tone?
No point in talking here about the consequences of Brexit for Britain, Europe as a whole and indeed the rest of the world. The issue has been analyzed, re-analyzed and re-re-analyzed ad nauseam, and we have read, re-read and re-re-read the analyses. Yes, of course, Brtain’s exit from the EU is like a pebble tossed into a pond, with its ripples radiating far. And, yes, Scotland and Wales may in time consult their own divorce lawyers, seeing that Brexit was imposed by the English against the wishes of the Celtic fringe.
And, yes, potentially the Dutch and the Greeks may follow suit with, respectively, a Nexit and Grexit, leading in the end to the dissolution of a noble European experiment aimed at achieving amity on a continent whose people had for centuries waged wars of unspeakable cruelty against each other.
Rather the question here is this: Why? Why have the Brits chosen such an inherently destructive course of action? And who were these Brexiteers anyhow who preferred to sever the fate of their nation from that of the rest of Europe? Well, here’s my two-cents’ worth of meditation on that question.
Brexiteers suffer from the same angst, the same causes of discord, as supporters of Donald Trump — class, immigration, race, xenophobia and existential malaise. They look at their country, “stepping back” from it much in the manner that one steps back from a painting on a wall in order to perceive it better, and they don’t like what they see.
They yearn for the lost Eden of yore; they hark back to a time when their land was a homogeneous Anglo island nation where there was “a place for everyone and everyone in his place.”
And that lotus land is no more, no more imbued, as it had been at one time, with its original English élan. They refuse to believe that, like individuals, nations change, evolve, transform and in time find themselves, as a consequence, having to assume the burden of new meaning. They refuse to believe that we already live in what the Canadian social philosopher, Marshall McLuhan, once called, as far back as 1962, “the global village,” aided by technology, mass media, and a fast-paced global dialogue of cultures. There is, as it were, no “there” out there. We are wired, interconnected. There is no “white man’s burden” anymore, no “la mission culturelle,” no lower species of men and women, no “civilized” and “uncivilized” worlds. We are all guests in each others’ homes — 850,000 Poles living in Britain, 1.3 million Brits living on the continent, 6 million Muslims living in France and, well, Google who is where, and what is what in the global melting pot.
We do not, you see have to share with each other a commonality of language, culture and manners of ceremonial exchange in order share our humanity.
Sadly, this aesthetic is not immediately obvious to Brexiteers and, to identify them eponymously, Trumpeers. Meanwhile, the Brits who voted to leave the EU last Thursday will, within a decade or so, rue the day they did so. You go it alone, you stand alone.
And, folks, it is not going to be an amicable divorce. Forget the toxic wrangling that is sure to come over the next two years or so regarding how much accrues to who in the divorce settlement. If you want a preamble of the hostile feelings the continent already harbors about Britain’s “traitrise” (roughly “backstabbing” in French), then consider what Martin Schulz, president of the European Parliament had to say, hours after Brexit: “We want Britain out as soon as possible,” adding that “speeding up” the exit is being considered after “the continent was taken hostage.”
And, no, the European Union will not delay the start of negotiations, as London prefers, until a successor to David Cameron is chosen by the Conservative Party Conference in October. “That may not be fast enough,” intoned Schultz. Can you hear the rancor in the tone?
No point in talking here about the consequences of Brexit for Britain, Europe as a whole and indeed the rest of the world. The issue has been analyzed, re-analyzed and re-re-analyzed ad nauseam, and we have read, re-read and re-re-read the analyses. Yes, of course, Brtain’s exit from the EU is like a pebble tossed into a pond, with its ripples radiating far. And, yes, Scotland and Wales may in time consult their own divorce lawyers, seeing that Brexit was imposed by the English against the wishes of the Celtic fringe.
And, yes, potentially the Dutch and the Greeks may follow suit with, respectively, a Nexit and Grexit, leading in the end to the dissolution of a noble European experiment aimed at achieving amity on a continent whose people had for centuries waged wars of unspeakable cruelty against each other.
Rather the question here is this: Why? Why have the Brits chosen such an inherently destructive course of action? And who were these Brexiteers anyhow who preferred to sever the fate of their nation from that of the rest of Europe? Well, here’s my two-cents’ worth of meditation on that question.
Brexiteers suffer from the same angst, the same causes of discord, as supporters of Donald Trump — class, immigration, race, xenophobia and existential malaise. They look at their country, “stepping back” from it much in the manner that one steps back from a painting on a wall in order to perceive it better, and they don’t like what they see.
They yearn for the lost Eden of yore; they hark back to a time when their land was a homogeneous Anglo island nation where there was “a place for everyone and everyone in his place.”
And that lotus land is no more, no more imbued, as it had been at one time, with its original English élan. They refuse to believe that, like individuals, nations change, evolve, transform and in time find themselves, as a consequence, having to assume the burden of new meaning. They refuse to believe that we already live in what the Canadian social philosopher, Marshall McLuhan, once called, as far back as 1962, “the global village,” aided by technology, mass media, and a fast-paced global dialogue of cultures. There is, as it were, no “there” out there. We are wired, interconnected. There is no “white man’s burden” anymore, no “la mission culturelle,” no lower species of men and women, no “civilized” and “uncivilized” worlds. We are all guests in each others’ homes — 850,000 Poles living in Britain, 1.3 million Brits living on the continent, 6 million Muslims living in France and, well, Google who is where, and what is what in the global melting pot.
We do not, you see have to share with each other a commonality of language, culture and manners of ceremonial exchange in order share our humanity.
Sadly, this aesthetic is not immediately obvious to Brexiteers and, to identify them eponymously, Trumpeers. Meanwhile, the Brits who voted to leave the EU last Thursday will, within a decade or so, rue the day they did so. You go it alone, you stand alone.
