ABHI Brexit Update: Bonkers Times
Things in my sleep deprived, red-eye train spotter existence abated somewhat this week, to the extent that I was actually in the frame to do the early school run on no fewer than three days. (Not all good, I missed Monday’s music concert – small mercies and all that). As well as providing me with some much-needed rest, I also got to hear longer periods of the Today programme than is usual. I did rather enjoy it, even if it does get a bit repetitive after the third news headline summary. What struck me most was the fact that the Beeb has completely written off Jeremy Hunt as a realistic contender in the wacky race. It was all about Boris, Boris’s Cabinet and how Boris will negotiate with the EU. In defence of my, once again, appalling punditry, whilst I do admit to saying he would never get on to the ballot, I did qualify that by saying that if he made the ballot he would win, not that you needed to be Sherlock Holmes to work that one out.
And so, Boris is being man with gob. He is going to be the guy to negotiate us a better deal with Europe, but he is not afraid to walk away without one. The first problem that he, and indeed all of us will face, is that his red lines conflict exactly with those of others. And it is not just those in Brussels. The main issue, as it was from the outset, is the Irish border, and Boris simply cannot come up with a compromise that will be acceptable to both the EU and the DUP, they who prop up our Government. It may be worth your while revisiting 2017’s Government position paper on Northern Ireland and Ireland, one of a series published that summer. The paper explains, as I have often tried to here, why Brexit was always going to play out along 310 miles of Irish countryside. It also gives a highly digestible overview of recent Irish history, bettered only by P J O’Rourke in his excellent 1988 work, Holidays in Hell, itself worth revisiting in the light of geopolitical developments in the ensuing period.
The logical conclusion, then, is that we are heading for no deal. It is certainly what Kuenssberg and the hyenic press pack are salivating over, such is their insatiable appetite for bad news. The analysts have bought it and the pound is at its lowest value versus the dollar for two years. That decision to finally take the kids to Disney this summer does not look the best now does it?
But for all his talk of walking away, Boris is not going to be an Emperor, cannot simply do as he wishes, and Parliament remains vehemently opposed to no deal. He was, once again, served notice of that yesterday. The Northern Ireland Bill we talked about last week was subject to further amendments, one of which makes it extremely difficult for Boris to suspend Parliament in order to force through a no deal exit, something he has yet to rule out. The vote was significant, Tory MPs rebelled, and four Cabinet Ministers abstained, thus effectively ending their careers in Government, at least in the immediate term. A majority of 41 is also a significant headache for the new PM, especially coming in the context of threats of votes of no confidence and legal action. Things could also yet get more bizarre. A group of remain leaning MPs believe that if Boris chooses to ignore the will of Parliament, they could ask the Queen to go to the next EU leaders Summit and request a further extension to allow us yet more time to get ourselves together. It might be bonkers, but these are bonkers times. And how would she get there? Jet travel is an increasingly non-PC option where others exist. She does not have a Royal Yacht anymore and, as we found out in the Spring, chartering ferries is fraught with difficulties in the current climate. I do not imagine the Royal Train can just hop on to French tracks, which leaves her with Eurostar. Public money, so she could not go Business Premier, even if she was prepared to rub shoulders with objectionable types guzzling their way under the channel on expenses. Maybe she will adopt my strategy and avoid the cheap seats altogether by heading straight to the buffet car. Minor burns from one of those molten lava filled toasties, three rounds of drinks and two tins of Pringles and you are there.
Boris is aware of the challenges and he can foresee the log jams ahead. This is where we again run into problems with my lousy punditry. I have been saying, with absolute conviction, that the next general election will not be until May 2022, as dictated by the Fixed Term Parliament Act. Well, I am becoming increasingly unsure of myself. On Monday, Ellie, Luella and I joined a delegation of members for dinner in the Fun House to talk value, whilst trying not to be too whiny about NHS procurement policy, (not that easy as it happens). Our host, who has to remain nameless due to the Chatham House nature of the event, rather suddenly and unsolicited announced that he believed we were heading for an election in the Autumn. One other MP (a Tory with a majority in the low hundreds) responded with, “I bloody hope not, I am toast in the polls.” I still cannot see it, why would the Government call an election it could very conceivably lose when it does not have to? Yet others who understand these things better than I do, reckon the Blonde Buffoon is gearing up for exactly that. Maybe, given he is philosophically incapable / too scared of his own right wing to go down the second referendum route, he sees an election as the only way to unblock things. But I still remain unconvinced that an election is the right vehicle to do that. We may know more in a few days’ time.
Given I have drawn on it so often during the last month or so, I suppose I ought to reference the incredible events at Lord’s last weekend. If, as I did, you spent the best part of 12 hours on Sunday moving no further from the sofa than to the fridge, you will know what I am talking about. If you did not, you will have doubtless gathered that you missed perhaps the most dramatic contest in the history of sport. It was a day when the cricketing gods smiled on England and the nation exhausted a collective lifetime of sporting good fortune. England did not, actually, “beat” New Zealand, but still won the trophy. Phone a friend.
If you need a world cup fix, and you have not yet discovered it, you could do a lot worse than follow the Netball, which reaches its climax in Liverpool this weekend. At this level it is a truly exhilarating game, the speed, skill and athleticism of the players is remarkable. For a non-contact sport, it is also ferociously physical, yet played in great spirit. Regardless of what has happened on court during the previous hour, at the final whistle the players from both teams come together in a communal huddle, reminiscent of rugby teams applauding their opponents from the field. Other sports could take note. As some of you know, I managed to wangle three years studying such things, and I have always regarded netball as perhaps the best of all team games. Territory, function and movement restricted, it is impossible for one induvial to dominate any given match. The whole simply, by definition, has to be greater than the sum of the parts. Is it too much to ask that, in the coming weeks, our rather crumby politicians can show some of the collective, common purpose displayed by our wonderful netballers?
So, this time next week we will have a new Prime Minister, but happily the school holidays will have started and I will be very much offline. Conscious that much will still happen without me, in this seat next Friday will be Tory Party insider, Paul Bristow. Bristow knows, and has worked with both wacky racers, so is well placed to give you an idea of what the new PM means for Brexit, business and our chances of retaining that World Cup in 2023. The following week our old friend Steve Bridges from Brussels will be considering what the new leadership in Europe means for us all, and finally, you will get a letter from America, as Joe Gatewood from AdvaMed contemplates the special relationship and Anglo-US trade post-Brexit.
So, that is the first half of the summer taken care of. Subsequently I will be updating you on a PRN basis until the fun begins again after Recess. Have a good one.
