Shortly after the Brexit vote, the European Union or at least senior officials in Brussels, where the EU is headquartered, reacted strongly and angrily. As had been said by German and French ministers during the campaign leading up to the British referendum, there was a warning of “no compromise” and calls for a quick departure. “No compromise” was a shorthand for not allowing the United Kingdom any access to the EU market. Countries such as Norway are not part of the EU but fall within the arrangements of the European Economic Area (EEA). This makes them trade partners of the EU without being full political members. Many in the former “remain” camp or those Britons with business interests in the continent now hope for this halfway house provision and an EEA-type understanding.
Whether that is possible will be known only in the months and weeks to come. After all, as the outgoing Prime Minister, David Cameron, has said, the terms of divorce will be negotiated by the new Prime Minister, who will be in place before October. For the moment, with emotions running high in both Europe and in Britain — or in the many constituents of Britain, with Scotland and Ireland split from England, and London from everybody else — a rational assessment cannot be made. It is understandable that Britons — at least a section of Britons and Londoners — may be pinning hopes on a “compromise” or some manner of “renegotiation” of the EU-UK compact. However, EU leaders themselves, as well as governments in Paris and Berlin, the bedrock of the EU project, will be less than willing. The desire will be for an expeditious cutting off of the UK and the demonstration of a secession that is painful.
This, it is felt, will deter those voices in other parts of Europe that are calling for rethink on their EU commitments. Already, in France and the Netherlands there have been calls for referenda. Opinion polls in France suggest that while most people want the EU to stay intact, trust in the European Parliament — in the ability of Europe to battle terror and in the maintenance of the Schengen system that allows free mobility within EU member countries — is declining. Richer countries in Europe, primarily Germany and France, and the former East Bloc nations as well, have been very perturbed by refugees from Syria. “Refugees from Syria” is a bit of a misnomer because the millions who poured in in 2015 (with a more manageable number coming in 2016) were not just Syrians, but Iraqis, Iranians, Afghans and even Pakistanis.
The resultant crowding of small towns, combined with fear following the terror attacks in Paris and Brussels, have made many suspicious of EU protocols. The continued economic uncertainty following the financial crisis of 2008 has not helped, as it did not in Britain and contributed to the Brexit momentum. Poorer countries of the EU have had their own concerns about the European project, going back to a period well before 2008 or the Syrian crisis. Anecdotal evidence is telling. A few years ago, this writer met a Bulgarian scholar at a conference in Italy. He spoke with a marked English clip, almost like a native speaker, and it took a few minutes to realise he wasn’t English. He confessed his parents had sent him to the UK to study and hoped him to migrate.
It was not that he didn’t like his country. Yet, as he confessed, there were simply too few job opportunities. Hadn’t the EU helped move jobs to poorer locations? “Well,” he responded, “sometimes I think we’ve rented out our highways to other EU members, as trucks from Germany travel to Greece and back, carrying goods, and our farmers just watch.” In Portugal, in the poor south rather than the poor east (as Bulgaria is), the lament was similar. Accession to the euro had pushed up prices and a tourist who travelled from say India to Europe wouldn’t find Portugal, with its high unemployment and badly-performing economy, considerably cheaper than a big city in much-richer France.
“And if you had to choose between holidaying in Lisbon and holidaying in Paris,” a Portuguese acquaintance once asked me, “which would you instinctively travel to?” Ironically, as the Bulgarian complained that the EU was forcing him to move to Britain, Brexit’s “leave” voters were motivated by the EU becoming a gateway for Bulgarian and Polish migrants to London. In the city and beyond, low-skilled jobs have seen eastern European newcomers crowd out native Britons and even older-generation migrants of south Asian origin. As the biting but not entirely untrue joke goes, if you check into a London hotel, hope for a Pakistani or Indian origin person behind the counter should you want to use the English language.
Otherwise you could end up with an eastern European struggling to help. As one can see then, a layer of Euroscepticism has always existed in Europe. After the 2008 crisis and the Syrian refugee mess, and particularly following the Brexit verdict, it has found a louder voice. It may not have reached critical mass and may not quite be threatening the integrity of the rest of the Union (that is, the EU minus Britain), but nevertheless represents a sentiment that cannot be ignored. Times of uncertainty have caused a backlash against globalisation and free trade by those who see themselves as losers. There is a resurgence of nationalism and protectionism. This may go against the grain of history and may not sustain in the long run, but it is a reality for the medium term. That’s why, even as they strive to “teach the UK a lesson” for opting out, the EU leadership cannot wish away the fact that in nation after nation, among peoples after peoples, politics is once more trumping economics.
