For Cameron and Clegg, there is still no alternative to the coalition

The PM and his deputy are more dependent on each other than ever.

The rumours are confirmed. House of Lords reform – at least the variant of it proposed by Nick Clegg – is dead. In retaliation, the Liberal Democrats will not support Conservative plans to change the boundaries of parliamentary constituencies, reducing the overall number of seats (to the detriment of the junior coalition party).

This development seemed inevitable from the moment last month when a decision was taken not to force the House of Commons to vote on a "timetable motion" ensuring Clegg’s reforms safe passage through parliament. At that point, David Cameron asked for more time to persuade rebels on his own side to back the plan. Anyone familiar with the mood on the Tory backbenches could have predicted they were not up for persuasion. Labour indicated clearly then too that the limit of their support had been reached – backing the bill in theory, but not the parliamentary means to rush it through. Game over.

That it has taken weeks for the last rites to be read is testimony to how much determination there remains at the very top to maintain the impression that coalition is a functional form of government. Even in his statement today, Clegg presented the move as a contractual renegotiation – part of the technical evolution of a two-party alliance in the event that the terms of agreement are breached – rather than a disorderly tit-for-tat exchange of blows.

He referred at length to what he sees as Labour’s failure to compromise, while glossing over, it seemed to me, the more substantial failure of the Prime Minister to deliver on the commitment he had made. Privately, senior Lib Dems blame Cameron for capitulating to his backbenchers and for generally taking a far too cavalier attitude to what is meant to be – as Team Clegg likes to put it – "the sacred text" of the coalition agreement.

The Tory rejoinder is that the very same text commits the Lib Dems to boundary changes and not just on condition of getting a reformed House of Lords. This hermeneutic dispute can go on forever and is never very edifying. Its very tone, quibbling over commas and interpretations like medieval monks, reinforces the sense of a government lacking broad intellectual and ideological consistency. The reliance on textual analysis to decide which party gets what out of the deal does not exactly indicate strategic clarity.

From speaking to people in Number 10 and the Deputy Prime Minister’s office today I get the impression that both sides are very alert to the danger of appearing adrift and at the mercy of political currents beyond their control – whether it is angry Tory backbenchers thinking they can boss Cameron about or a media mood that starts to write off the coalition and speculate endlessly about when and how it will end.

Hence the decision to get this piece of grim news out now, in the middle of the summer recess, when most eyes are on the Olympics. Both coalition parties are determined to use the autumn season as an opportunity for political re-launch and need to put this ugly episode behind them.

That won’t be so easy. For Clegg, the big problem now is the persistence of questions about what, if not Lords reform, he can hold up as an exclusively Lib Dem trophy snatched from reluctant Tories. (Yes, the raising of the income tax threshold and pupil premium are Clegg’s policies, but Conservatives like them too. The emblematic value of Lords Reform – the thing that would have made it cathartic for Lib Dems -  is that it was something Tory MPs would have to vote for against their will, just as the junior coalition party held its collective nose and marched through the lobbies for tuition fees and NHS reform.)

The resilience of the Lib Dems and their public loyalty to Clegg has been remarkable given the pounding they have taken in opinion polls. But this is the first issue where I sense large numbers, including some ministers, really questioning the big strategic choices that their leader has made in coalition. Why, they ask, did he pick such a battle over an issue too obscure and technical to do the party favours as a badge of political identity in the country? And could he not have foreseen that he would lose?

The climbdown does Cameron no favours either. It means, in essence, that a high-profile part of the government agenda, one that was in the Queen’s Speech and for which legislative time had been allotted, has been vetoed by backbench MPs. Precedent suggests they will be emboldened by that victory. Now more than ever, Cameron faces a challenge to prove that he is leading rather than following his party.

In the past, whenever the Prime Minister has been forced to choose between loyalty to his partnership with Clegg and acceding to the demands of his angry backbenchers, he has chosen the latter. Senior Lib Dems are now saying Cameron must accept that his serial flakiness has got him nowhere and has only weakened his authority. It is time, they say, to recognise that his political future depends on making coalition work and not undermining it when he is too chicken to take on his party.

Many Tories, meanwhile, are saying that Cameron has called Clegg’s bluff. The boundary changes are a serious tactical loss for Number 10 (unmourned by many Conservative MPs, it must be said) but not the kind of defeat on policy that registers with the country as a great humiliation. It is not a point of political honour the way Lords reform was for Clegg. The reality, as one Downing Street aide put it to me this morning, is that the Lib Dems are in no shape to fight an election and must, for the sake of their own credibility, stick with the Conservative line on the economy - the issue that counts more than any other. They have nowhere to go.

That emphatically does not mean the coalition is dissolving. Reports over the weekend that senior Tories were seriously plotting how to govern without the Lib Dems are dismissed by a Downing Street source as "nonsense." Cameron is no less dependent on Clegg’s MPs than he was in 2010. If anything, he needs them all the more now that a small but noisy band of his own MPs have decided to behave as if they were in opposition.

That is the curious paradox of today’s events. The acknowledgement of a breach of the coalition agreement and the announcement of a technical retaliation are clear reminders of how brittle the whole project is. And yet, as Clegg and Cameron are the biggest individual losers, their dependence on one another to keep the show on the road is increased. Today’s news is hardly an affirmation of coalition but it is a stark reminder that, for the Prime Minister and his Deputy, there really is no alternative.

Cameron is no less dependent on Clegg’s MPs than he was in 2010. Photograph: Getty Images.

Rafael Behr is political columnist at the Guardian and former political editor of the New Statesman

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Nigel Farage's love for Dunkirk shows how Brexiteers learned the wrong lessons from WWII

Film has given Britain a dangerously skewed perspective on World War II

For months now it’s been hard to avoid the publicity for what seems like an epidemic of new World War Two films for 2017. June brought us Churchill (starring Brian Cox), which concerns Operation Overlord and the allied invasion of Normandy in 1944. A month later, in July we were pushed back four years, to Dunkirk, with Christopher Nolan’s film of the evacuation of Allied troops from French soil in the summer of 1940. April had already brought Their Finest, a comedy about making a - let us not let the irony go unacknowledged -  stirring film about the evacuation of Dunkirk in the event’s more or less immediate aftermath and November will bring us Darkest Hour, some events in which will predate all three earlier films, as Gary Oldman’s Churchill struggles through the earliest days of his war premiership.

This glut is peculiar. There are no significant round anniversaries to commemorate (e.g. Dunkirk is 77 years ago, the Normandy landings 73). More, we’re meant to be in the middle of a series of commemorations of the horror and waste of the Great War of 1914-18, but that seems to have slipped away from us in the political turmoil that’s engulfed this country since 2014. Instead, it’s to the Second World War we return yet again. To modern Britain’s founding myth.

It’s a coincidence, of course, that these films should come along together, and at a seemingly odd time. They were developed separately, and films takes so long to conceive and produce that no one could have anticipated them arriving together, let alone arriving in a toxic Brexit Britain where they seem like literally the least useful things for anyone in the UK to watch right now. As works that will inevitably, whatever their own creative intentions and merits, be hi-jacked by a press and political culture that is determined to gloss its opposition to the UK’s membership of the European Union, and its appalling mishandling of the process of exit with garbled references to, the conflict the films portray.

This is an impression that is not exactly dismissed by Nigel Farage posting to twitter of an image of himself standing next to the poster for Dunkirk, along with a statement in which he encourages all young people to see the film. For what reason, we’re entitled to wonder, does he make this encouragement? Does he admire the sound design? Or the aerial photography? Or is he just a big fan of Mark Rylance and Harry Styles? Or perhaps he is, inevitably, indulging in a behaviour that some might call "nostalgic"? Of pining for the past. Except, of course, nostalgia requires an element of pain. The suffix "algia" the same as employed when referring to chronic conditions. For Farage and his ilk there is no pain in this behaviour, just the most extraordinarily banal comfort.

Farage is asking us and asking the young who voted against his chosen cause by an overwhelming majority, and who are are sickened by where he and his ilk have brought us - to share in his indulgence. To enjoy, as he does, those fatuous analogies between the UK’s isolation between Dunkirk and Pearl Harbour with its imminent failures in European politics. To see that "escaping from Europe with nothing is at least better than not escaping at all". Or to believe, once again, in a "plucky little Britain, standing up against the might of a wicked mainland European tyranny, its back against the wall".

All this, confused, indeed nonsensical, as it is, is being invoked, as surely as the anti-EU right have always invoked Churchill. This is despite his own family recognising him, as the EU itself does, as the fervent pro-European he was. Indeed, he was one of the founding fathers of the whole post-war pan-European enterprise.

What Farage and his behaviour demonstrates, yet again, is that British culture, in many ways, learned not merely the wrong lessons from the war against Hitler, but exactly the wrong lessons. It’s a lesson that found its most enduring, poisonous expression in Margaret Thatcher’s breathtaking assertion that the European Union was a "third attempt" by Germany to take over the world.

In contrast to the rush of war films in cinemas, television has recently given us glimpses into theoretical worlds where Nazism did succeed in conquering the planet, in Amazon Prime’s The Man In The High Castle and BBC One’s SS-GB. There are lessons too, in these alternative histories, proper lessons that we have collectively failed to learn from the real one. Which is that fascism or authoritarianism are not diseases to which anglophone countries are somehow miraculously immune due to [insert misunderstood historical fetish of choice].

The Man in the High Castle, particularly in its more subtle first series, goes out of its way to show Americans that their lack of experience of collaboration with Nazi occupation is a result of circumstance, even luck. Not because collaboration is a peculiarly European tendency. SS-GB also worked hard to demonstrate the helplessness of occupation, and how that leads to the sheer ordinariness of collaboration. Both show the understanding that while fascism from the outside is funny accents and funny uniforms, fascism from the inside is your neighbours informing on you and the absence of the rule of law.

That experience of occupation, of subsequent complicity, and humiliation, felt by many other other European nations, is absent in Britain. Farage’s fellow Leaver Liam Fox, without anything resembling self-awareness, asserted that "the United Kingdom is one of the few countries in the European Union that does not need to bury its 20th century history". Fox’s remark summed up, again seemingly unintentionally, the oafishness of the principle Brexiteers. A group who exemplify a culture that boils a vast and unimaginably complex conflict down to the title sequence of Dad’s Army - an animation in which a Union Flag is forced off the European continent by a trio of Nazi triangles, and after returning home bobs around defiantly. A group who, in a strange and witless inversion, have fantasised themselves into a position where they see the Britain’s membership of the European Union as the occupation the country once avoided.

This is the UK’s postponed tragedy. At a timethat European countries experienced national humiliations which fundamentally reconfigured their understandings of their place in the world, the UK got yet another excuse to shout about how much better it was than everyone else.

I’m a child of the very late Seventies. I grew up in a world where (British) boys’ comics were dominated by war stories rather than science fiction or superheroes, where literally everyone knew several people who had fought in World War Two - and almost everyone someone who could remember World War One. That war was the ever-present past. I am, as a friend who teaches history neatly phrased it "Of the last post-war generation." After me, the generations are post-post-war. They are free. The moral clarity of the war against Hitler has, in the end, been a curse on British culture - a distorting mirror in which we can always see ourselves as heroes. 

But, not, of course, all other generations. The war generation collectively (I make no claim that there were not exceptions) understood what the war was. Which meant they understood that the European Union was, and is, its antonym, not an extension of it. Unlike their children and the eldest of their grandchildren, they had real experience of the conflict, they hadn’t just grown up surrounded by films about how great Britain was during it.

The Prime Minister who, or so he thought, had secured Britain’s European destiny had also, as he related in his autobiography, seen the devastation wrought by that conflict, including by shells he himself had given the order to be fired. Like Helmut Kohl, whose worshipped, conscripted older brother died pointlessly fighting for Hitler, and Francois Mitterrand, himself captured during the fall of France, his experience was real and lived, not second hand.

This can be seen even in the voting in 2016 referendum. That the young principally voted Remain and the old voted Leave has been often noted. But if you break that over-65 vote up further, there’s a substantial flip to back towards Remain amongst the oldest voters, the survivors of the survivors of World War Two. After all, someone who is 65 today was born nearly a decade after the war ended. It was their parents’ war, not their own. A war that has been appropriated, and for purposes of which those who fought in it would, collectively, not approve.

Let’s return to Dad’s Army, after all, BBC Two does often enough. Don’t Panic! The Dad’s Army Story (2000) a cheerful history of the sitcom great written and presented by Victoria Wood contains a telling juxtaposition of interviewees. The series' surprising continued popularity is discussed and Wendy Richard (born 1943) expresses a nostalgia for the war years, and how people banded together during them. This is a sentiment which Clive Dunn (born 1920) bluntly dismisses. “Like most people I had a foul war,” he says, and disgust and horror briefly pass across his face.

It’s the difference between those who remember war, and those who only remember war films.