Despite London’s superficial semblance to the city I inhabited in the 2000s, a palpable unease lingers in the air, its genesis traceable to Brexit. This malaise is so pervasive that it has engendered a near-universal consensus: the opposition will prevail in the forthcoming elections, slated for this year’s end. Sir Kier Starmer, a former prosecutor and current leader of the Labour Party, is widely regarded as the prime minister-in-waiting. His demeanor lacks the insufferable swagger that characterized his predecessor, Jeremy Corbyn, whose ill-fated leadership of Labour culminated in the party’s disastrous 2019 election performance. Starmer’s humility likely stems from his recognition of his extraordinary fortune in succeeding not only his own party’s eccentric figure but also a succession of inept and comical Conservative leaders, culminating in the fleeting Liz Truss and the current incumbent, whose youthful appearance and wide-eyed demeanor have made him the subject of much radio banter. This near-certainty contrasts sharply with the situation in the United States, which will also hold elections around the same time, but where the outcome remains shrouded in uncertainty. I discern a parallel between the ongoing debates on immigration in both countries, a contentious issue that has ignited considerable turmoil. Perhaps this similarity is unsurprising, given the allure of the English language, a factor that attracts immigrants to both shores. “You guys are also being invaded,” a Brexit supporter confided in me, his genuine concern evident in his voice. In America, many indeed harbor fears that the government is either unwilling or incapable of policing the southern border, and rightly or wrongly, the handling of this situation is driving voters towards the right (as I have observed firsthand). In Britain, the border was effectively thrown open to “foreigners” who also happened to be citizens of the European Union, a development that swayed many to support Brexit. That chapter is now closed, and I would venture to say that this is the primary reason why only about a third of Britons now tell pollsters that they would vote to leave again. But therein lies the source of the disquiet: almost two-thirds are experiencing what one might term “Bregret.” This misguided narrative stems from voters being hoodwinked by the Leave campaign’s preposterous claims that billions of pounds would flow back to Britain if it severed ties with the European Union. Instead, they have paid a steep price—as much as a tenth of Britain’s potential GDP has been sacrificed by removing itself from the world’s largest combined economy, of which London had been the financial capital. This status was pivotal to understanding why London, in the early years of this century, felt like the center of the universe. It was essentially the capital of the European Union—a multicultural haven in the truest sense of the word, whose positive energy created a euphoria that must be experienced to be understood. Beneath the surface, of course, many people felt that globalization had left them behind—much like in the United States—and they yearned for a shake-up. The Conservatives narrowly clawed their way into power in 2010 and promptly upset the apple cart with an ill-conceived austerity plan—but the real chaos ensued when then Prime Minister David Cameron caved in to the MAGA-esque Euroskeptic wing of his party by calling the Brexit referendum. When Remainers wheeled out economists to warn of the dire consequences, Leavers memorably declared that “the people have had enough of experts.” Cameron, despite siding with the experts, was ultimately a victor in the game of life. He decided to roll the dice, flipped a coin, and—bloody hell!—resigned without a fuss (take note, Bibi Netanyahu). So, did “the people” truly “speak” in the 2016 vote? The 52-48 percent result was a nail-biter that essentially broke even and could have easily gone the other way. It was also a decision to leave the European Union, with the details to be hashed out somewhere down the road—akin to a separation before a divorce. The Brexiteers imagined that the European Union would offer them most of the benefits of membership without the obligations—but the bloc needed to set an example to deter other countries from following suit. This ensured that Brexit would be as painful as the Remain campaign had warned. Once the implications of crashing out of the EU became unambiguously clear, polls began to turn against the move. Logic dictated a second referendum to ratify the actual deal, as opposed to the pie-in-the-sky promises that had been made. However, British instinct favored a stiff upper lip and a sporting acquiescence, even though the young people who would have to live with the consequences for the longest were overwhelmingly opposed to the idea. But then again, their voter turnout was also low; there is an issue with these young people. Another reason Brexit managed to scrape through was Corbyn’s failure to campaign against it; as a woolly-brained leftist, he viewed the EU (a rather interventionist outfit inclined, if anything, to overregulate) as a capitalist construct. I suspect that Sir Keir would secretly prefer a “Breturn” (as would most Labour voters, if it were possible without another decade of wrangling). However, he is wary of saying so explicitly because the Brexit vote cut across party lines, and Labour’s solid poll lead of over 20 points relies on the support of at least some who still harbor resentment towards the EU. Indeed, some members of the shadow government have explicitly stated that they will not seek to rejoin the EU. Honoring that pledge would be quite remarkable, almost quaint in an era when few expect honesty from politicians. However, I sense that it is more than just a campaign strategy; they genuinely value fair play. Brexit was a cock-up; no matter; carry on. So, for now, they need to take ownership of this debacle. There is a significant issue with goods coming in from Northern Ireland, which is part of the United Kingdom but desires open borders with the Republic of Ireland, an EU member. There are all sorts of delays and mishaps in shipping and commerce (books mailed to the Netherlands often fail to arrive). And the economic downturn is widely blamed for the decline in public services, especially the once-cherished National Health Service (ambulances can take so long that a hearse might be a more suitable option). But Brexit was not a mistake if one understands things for what they are and yet prefers the inconveniences. Full membership in the EU carries many benefits, primarily the free movement of goods and services. However, it also entails costs, primarily the free movement of people. Many cherish diversity, but not so many want to be numerically overwhelmed by immigrants. EU member countries have limited means of preventing anyone from the bloc of over 400 million from moving in—just as any American can move to Miami (as it often seems these days to be the case)—but they don’t mind the gamble because it’s unrealistic. Due to London’s attractiveness, Britain’s flexible labor market, and the universality of English, the British began to suspect that it was not unrealistic. I contemplate all this in a charming pub, where the manager is Romanian, as were four others I encountered during my brief stay in the capital. Lovely fellows all—but British they are not. From here, I watch the BBC report on the unseemly case involving Donald Trump, and read local analyses speculating on what might happen if he were forced to govern from prison. And then, the following thought occurs to me: Would it not be ever so splendid to transfer a bit of this fair play away from Britain, which has too much, to the United States, which, well, does not.
Brexit’s Lingering Malaise: London’s Disquiet and America’s Electoral Uncertainty
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