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We’re heading for the biggest crisis since Suez

Matthew Parris

It is horribly apparent that, four months after the referendum, the Brexiteers have no idea where

they’re leading us

s in a bad dream, I have the sensation of falling. We British are on our way to making the

biggest screw-up since Suez and, somewhere deep down, the new governing class know it.

We are heading for national humiliation, nobody’s in charge, and nobody knows

what to do. This

Brexit thing is out of control.

It was really only this week that the scales fell from my eyes. Perhaps it was just the accretion of

small

observations,

mounting

in

the

unconscious

mind

until

the

heap

broke

the

surface:

but a

nascent worry became a conscious horror. For me the horror dawned after a long discussion in a

group who follow politics closely. Reading the runes, we were trying to work out

—

and only in

broad outline

—

what the plan for Brexit might be. Scenarios were conjured, possible game- plans

stress-tested.

But every guess, followed through, led fast into the nettles. As the dial moved towards the “soft”

end

of

the

spectrum

of

possibilities

we

repeatedly

faced

the

tiger

that

the

Leave

camp

so

foolishly and cynically rode: immigration. Why ever would our EU partners offer us, post-Brexit,

what they would not offer David Cameron before?

And what makes anyone think that in the new antagonisms generated across the Channel by our

referendum result, the “soft” Brexit that we former

Remainers crave will anyway still be on offer?

And

as

the

dial

moved

towards

the

“hard”

end

of

the

spectrum,

the

massive

economic

uncertainties

attached

to

the

go-it- alone

solution

came

crowding

in.

None

of

us

knew

how

realistic

the

fears

of

a

serious

hi

t

to

Britain’s

economy

might

prove:

but

we

did

know

that

for

many in the Leave camp, and for the Chancellor of the Exchequer, those fears were real.

Then we thought about parliament. But when you do, the path of legislative scrutiny crumbles

beneath your feet. Before she triggers Article 50 next March (and therefore before negotiations

A

even begin) Theresa May is adamant she cannot show parliament her hand, and one does see

her point

—

even though John Major did risk a Commons debate before he went to Maastricht.

But after Article 50 is triggered and the Lisbon treaty’s ejector button has been pushed, reversing

the process is practically impossible.

After March, parliament can say it doesn’t like the Brexit plan that emerges, it can amend the

Great Repeal Bill by attaching conditions, it can even throw the bill out; but still we must leave

the EU within two years

—

and on no terms at all if parliament rejects the government’s terms.

Besides,

a

darker

possibility

occurs:

that

the

real

reason

Mrs

May

doesn’t

want

to

consult

parliament on her plans is that she doesn’t have any.

Bayonet the wounded all you like, Leavers, but the nation waits to hear your plans

It was widely felt that the referendum would be a crystalline moment of national decision. We

were to stay on one road or take the other. Yet nearly four months later we find ourselves still at

the

crossroads,

arguing

about

why

we

decided

to

take

the

road

less

travelled

—

and

where

it

should lead. The referendum’s sense of purpose has evaporated and we can

see what always lay

beneath: competing visions for Britain, each unable to command a majority by itself. They were

pooled in the word Leave, and it took them as far as June 23.

But no further. The differences now within the Brexit camp are at least as sharp as between them

and some of the former Remainers. Some of the veteran and most stalwart campaigners against

the

EU

—

Daniel

Hannan

MEP;

columnists

such

as

Christopher

Booker,

Andrew

Lilico

and

Iain

Martin

—

are prominent among those growing queasy about where Brexit could lead.

And from Mrs.

May herself? Silence. Allow me to switch the gender in my take on Benny Hill’s

parody of a faux-heroic Edwardian poem:

They said it couldn’t be done;

They said she could never do it.

So she took that job that co

uldn’t be done —

And she couldn’t do it.

Several

of

us

emerged

from

that

discussion

among

pundits

this

week,

each

with

our

own

perspective, but all with the same response. We were looking at a very serious impending road

accident. “What the ****?” we wer

e saying to each other. The scales, as I say, fell from my eyes.

For my friend, Times colleague and Leave campaigner, Michael Gove, to spend every paragraph

—

yes, every paragraph

—

of his column yesterday railing against the side that lost the European

referendum

campaign

attests

more

eloquently

to

suppressed

panic

than

anything

we

the

vanquished could write. Edvard Munch’s The Scream hovered over his words.