The quote is attributed to Buckminster Fuller. Another variation on the theme is that new ideas don’t triumph by changing opinions; they triumph because those holding the old ideas die out and those holding the new ideas take their place.
The Swiss can have a referendum on what they like, when they
like. In the UK we tend to stage them for
reasons of party politics, including as a tiebreaker in internal party
politics. No-one outside the Westminster circus has
any direct say on whether they’re held or not.
The Bill paving the way for an EU in-out referendum received
its Second Reading in the Commons last week, opposed by the SNP for its failure
to protect Scotland’s
right to opt right back in again. And
for its failure to give 16 and 17 year olds a vote on their future. There are plenty of 16 and 17 year olds who
feel cheated by that. As well they might,
since their future may be swayed by the elderly end of the age range
voting disproportionately ‘Out’. That’s
to say, the only end of the age range who’ve already voted once before on the
issue, in 1975. Two votes for them then,
four decades apart. And none for the
young. That’s a shame, because the
deep-seated view that the older are also the wiser isn’t necessarily borne out
by events. Wars, quite infamously, are started
by old men (and old women) for young men to fight.
After a conflict that may come to be viewed as
at least in part a European civil war, we at last got a chance to re-assess who
we are and whether our historic enmities matter as much as we thought they
did. The European issue is not about
policies, because they can be changed, and in a dynamic democracy forever
adapting to a changing world it’s right that they should. It’s not about structures, because they can
be changed, and those of Europe, 70
years old or less, are more malleable than those of our Anglo-Norman elite, 950 years
old and dug in deep. It’s not even about
values, because they too can be changed, preferably to be improved upon and
never to be placed beyond reasoned challenge.
The European issue at root is about identity and our place, or places,
upon the planet.
What is it to be European today?
The history of Europe as a name and an
idea is the history of that search for place.
Mythology ascribes its origin to Europa, carried off across the sea by
Zeus in the form of a bull. A folk
memory, perhaps, of the role that cattle, and therefore dairying, played in the
continent’s opening-up for agriculture. One
linguistic theory links the name to the Akkadian for ‘to go downwards’. The European peninsula in that case, like the
Maghreb in Arabic, is literally the West, the
place of the sunset when viewed from the centre of the ancient world.
Wessex,
as England’s
peninsular West, mirrors this on a smaller scale. ‘To go west’ is to die, and it is to Avalon,
the land of the orchards, that King Arthur is
carried, the same land of the apples of immortality that the Greeks knew as the
Garden of the Hesperides. A chance to
drink up thy zider then, as the sky turns red and gold and, like Chesterton, watch
“the western glory faint along the road
to Frome”. For those who have
followed the sun’s path to the shore, there’s always the sea and new-found land. Little wonder then that Charles Kingsley, a
great advocate of a contemporary Wessex,
should have penned Westward Ho!, re-siting
the phrase from London
to the Atlantic coast, in geographical terms the most European part of Europe because also its sharpest interface with the rest of the world.
Europe is an encircled
continent, often wary of what lies beyond.
To stand in defence of the West is a theme that runs from Leonidas to The Lord of the Rings. Rome’s focus
was the Mediterranean, the Mare Nostrum that was a highway, not a border; what
we know as Europe is the product of reaction
to the success that came early to the followers of the Prophet. The first reference to the Europeans – Europenses
– is in a near-contemporary account of Charles Martel’s victory over the Arabs at
Tours in
732. Roman Christianity pushed
northwards and north-eastwards more frantically – and more brutally – than it
might have done because to survive it had to win new lands to replace those
lost.
Yann Fouéré, in L’Europe aux Cents Drapeaux, set his views in the context of three
successive Europes, past, present and future. The first, Christendom, existed for most of a
millennium before fragmenting. The second
Europe, of religious divides and imperialist
rivalry, repeatedly came close to destroying itself. The third, Fouéré’s Europe of a Hundred Flags, is one of co-existence between
regional power and transcontinental co-operation.
It isn’t the EU, but the EU is somewhere on the road that
leads ahead, perhaps to a pared-down EU, designed primarily to safeguard regions
against the predatory intent of nation-states.
The EU has its critics, and many make sound points, but the staunchest
are those shuffling backwards towards
a world of now long-gone empires that has no conceivable role today. One does have to ask, for example, which
century UKIP inhabit.
Quite possibly the 20th, amid dreams of a revived
Commonwealth, even though with each passing generation the family ties become
looser. And trade moves on. Goods from Australia
and New Zealand
aren’t sitting on the quayside waiting for the call from the motherland. The UK
is a much smaller player on the global stage now because Europe
is much smaller too and demographic trends will only make it more so. In a world dominated by semi-continental
blocs like the USA or the BRIC
countries it’s difficult to see where the UK would hope to go. UKIP fantasies of plugging-in to BRIC
growth rates could only be delivered by matching their rates of environmental
degradation, but perhaps that’s the plan.
The current alternatives to Europe don’t include the land of
Rule Britannia, colonies, coal and cotton; they do include 51st
State of the USA, in all but name, or perhaps ultimately to become a satellite
of India or China. Norway’s independent,
but awash with oil; it’s also forced to apply the EU’s legislation in order to trade
with it but has little say over the content.
Switzerland’s proudly independent too, but as the world’s money laundry
it can afford to be. The ultimate in
centralisation is not the EU; it’s globalism, which UKIP seem to endorse. The evolution of the EU into a bulwark
against that globalism is fraught with difficulties but look forward to the
world of 2050 and there could be worse places to be.
And… if not the 20th century, then quite possibly the 16th? Euroscepticism’s founding document is the
declaration of the Reformation Parliament in 1533 that “this realm of England is an Empire, and so hath been accepted in the world”. It’s the double standard of Fouéré’s second Europe: no-one tells us what to do but you disagree
with us, local folk, and it’s off with your heads. We demand your subservience in all things as
proof of loyalty. The Irish, the Welsh
and the Cornish were among those who discovered how one-sided the Tudor idea of
English independence could be. And not only
English: many an Alsatian or Breton has died fighting for France against not-so-distant
cousins across the Rhine or the Channel.
The most compelling argument for staying in the EU, while
insisting on its radical reform, is that withdrawal would further empower the London
regime, parliamentary sovereignty and ‘fortress Britain’. Might a re-invigorated UK not share out its enhanced
functions in a generous wave of regional devolution? Not on past form. More likely by far is that triumphalist
waving of the Union Jack would turn into a paranoid hunt for the nationalist
and regionalist ‘enemy within’, egged on by Fleet Street and by a State
apparatus looking out for itself.
The UK has NO commitment to subsidiarity, even in constitutional
theory. Federalism, for example, is for
the other man. If only the UK had as
little power over Wessex as the EU does!
If the EU is a corporatist
conspiracy, so too, blatantly, is the UK, and we need completely different
choices all round. Claims that the EU is
unreformable, however, sit ill with the facts.
The EU now labelled oppressively neo-liberal and the one previously denounced
for its social chapter are the same institution under different managements
sponsoring different treaties. Politics
happens and no ideology therefore can own Europe forever. The longer the EU exists, the more vulnerable
it is to attack, because both Left and Right can pile up precedents that
support their case.
A simplistic view might be ‘EU bigger, therefore bad; UK
smaller, therefore good’ but there is more to decentralisation than that. It depends just how much power is centralised
at that wider level, whether the modern world needs it to be there for reasons
of subsidiarity and how much headroom is left for more local levels to
flourish. In the context of
subsidiarity, net decentralisation – a few things up but many more down – is a
fundamentally credible position to advance.
The real debate should be over who gets to decide what’s decided where:
subsidiarity is only genuine if judged from ‘below’.
And… if not the 16th century, then quite possibly the 13th? Today we mark the 800th
anniversary of Magna Carta, the short-lived foundation of English liberty. Short-lived because the Runnymede original
was declared null and void by the Pope ten weeks later. The charter that forms the basis of what survived
was the heavily edited version re-issued by the regency council of Henry III
meeting at Bristol in November 1216. It
was the result of strategic bargaining with the Pope’s man in England, Cardinal
Guala Bicchieri. Stop press: islanders
do deal with continent over share-out of powers. It could be David Cameron today as much as
William Marshal, Earl of Pembroke way back when. Magna Carta continues to influence our
politics, producing in some a kind of resting on laurels that means we don’t
have to update our ideas because 13th-century feudalism can’t be beaten. Looking at how England is still governed
today, the bad bits of that feudalism may be more evident than the good ones.
The good bits show the importance of a radically
decentralised Europe in which ideas that others have discarded as quaint and
old-fashioned can survive, rather like old plant varieties, until they’re ready
for a comeback. Take juries, a Frankish administrative
innovation, adopted early by the English, later applied by them to criminal
trials and retained when the rest of Europe moved on. France introduced jury trials at the
Revolution, modelling them on English practice, and spread them across Europe. For UKIP-inclined conspiracy theorists, jury
trials are doomed because they’re incompatible with continental, Roman
law. In fact, juries exist today in many
countries across the EU, which really spoils the argument, especially as UK
governments are quite capable of restricting trial by jury without needing any external
encouragement. As for the wider point on
legal systems co-existing, Scots law is a mixture of Roman and common law, and the Scots
have juries. The same is true of the laws
of Quebec and Louisiana.
The practical divide within Europe isn’t between common law
and Roman law jurisdictions. It’s north /
south. When it comes to drafting EU laws,
it’s the Mediterranean countries that are more laid back and happy with
statements of general principle, and the northern Europeans who insist on
precision, regardless of legal system. (The
Germans, it should be remembered, also had their own version of common law,
based on Saxon practice, down to 1900 and our own word ‘law’ comes not from Old
English but from Old Norse.) Montesquieu,
writing De l’Esprit des Lois in 1748,
tried to answer the question of why different peoples have different laws. They have, he suggested, different
temperaments, due to different climate.
So will climate change alter English law? We shall see.
What we do know is that the north / south divide in Europe
is mirrored in north / south divides in many of its larger countries, notably
England, France, Italy and Germany.
Differences in landscape and vegetation (and hence in agriculture), in
language, in religion and in wealth continue to find political as well as
cultural expression. There’s a particularly
remarkable zone of transition between the 44th and 46th parallels of north latitude, roughly halfway between the Equator and the North
Pole, which runs through many of the world’s best wine regions and also marks
the northern limit for growing olives and rice.
As one might expect, it disregards national boundaries far more often than
regional ones.
Those who wonder how a diverse Europe can hold together
should ask how well diversity is accommodated in some of its Member
States. Not very well is the answer. France from 1789, Italy from 1861 and Germany
from 1871 tried to make single countries out of regions that simply don’t think
in the terms dictated from the capital. Nor
do the several parts of the UK: Brexit propelled by the votes of southern
England would be likely to provoke a Scottish exit from the UK, making UKIP not
the saviours of British sovereignty but among the chief architects of its destruction.
The problem with learning from history is that we
don’t. The Europe we need to see, with
sovereignty at the narrowest level, solidarity at the widest level and
subsidiarity in between, is not what we have.
How we get where we’d rather be is up for debate, but it’s fascinating
to listen to those who claim to be pro-European and anti-EU, just as if it were
possible to be pro-British and anti-UK. (Perhaps
voters are viewed as making the wrong choices.)
Structures give concrete form to identities, so it is important to get
them right and that means not allowing them to be defined by others.
If Brexit happens, it will be for two reasons. One is that Eurosceptic myths will not be
subjected to the forensic dissection they deserve, and that misinformation once
in circulation and insinuation becomes impossible to stop. The other is that the Brussels gravy train
will respond with arrogance, complacency and weariness, and will fail to make a
positive case for Europe. That is, it
will fail to own up to its mistakes and to understand that a workable vision of
Europe must have a broad cultural base, upon which the economics and the
politics are built, not the other way round.
Some splendid books have been written – none more splendid than Norman
Davies’ Europe: A History – that join
up the dots of a common heritage much vaster in time and space than Little
Englanders can imagine. Primed with that
information, it’s much easier to see the bedrock of Europe, its small nations
and historic regions, and not be distracted by the shifting sands of states
determined to partition or assimilate them.
A clear discussion has been made immensely difficult not
only by Euroseptic antics – demonising the EU while presenting national
parliaments as implausibly fine paragons of virtue – but by uncritical
enthusiasm in the opposite direction. A
good example of the latter is the SNP’s draft constitution for an independent
Scotland, Section 24 of which states that Scots law will be inferior to EU
law. Technically, it may be true,
subject to equally technical safeguards, but what a message it sends
politically. We’d much rather not
criticise the SNP, so how come, having worked for centuries to regain national
sovereignty, is the first act, apparently, to give it away?
It will be a shame if 16 and 17 year olds don’t get a vote. They won’t be the only ones to be disappointed
though. A choice of in or out, of ‘Yes’
or ‘No’, is not much of a choice. Why not
a box for ‘Maybe’? Because without the really wide-ranging debate that we, as advocates of a third,
rather different kind of Europe, would like to see, that's the answer we prefer to give.
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