Cameron vetoes EU treaty: what does this decision mean?

The Prime Minister has taken a hard line in Europe in a political gamble that could leave Britain is

The Prime Minister has taken a hard line in Europe in a political gamble that could leave Britain isolated.

"Where we can't be given safeguards, it is better to be on the outside," said David Cameron at 6.20am today, as he announced that he has vetoed a revision of the Lisbon Treaty.

This is a huge development. It is the first time that a major treaty, striking at the heart of the EU, will go ahead without a British signature since Britain joined in 1973. It will redefine the nature of Britain's relationship with Europe, essentially creating a two-speed EU.

As I blogged on Wednesday, Cameron was in a very tight spot politically: on the one hand, his Eurosceptic backbenchers were clamouring for a referendum, while on the other his Liberal Democrat coalition partners warned against the risks of isolating Britain.

Isolation is certainly the main worry in the papers this morning. Of the 27 member states, all but four signed up to the treaty, with just Britain, Hungary, Sweden and the Czech Republic remaining on the outside. Sweden and the Czech Republic may yet join after their leaders have consulted their parliaments.

The risk here is that Britain will not only lose influence in the UK, but that its position in the single market will be jeopardised. Defending his decision at that early morning press conference (which was held after more than 10 hours of negotiations that ran through the night), Cameron said:

Of course we want the eurozone countries to come together and to solve their problems. But we should only allow that to happen inside the European Union treaties if there are proper protections for the single market and for other key British interests. Without those safeguards it is better not to have a treaty within a treaty but to have those countries make their arrangements separately.

He insisted that he would work to ensure that any agreement works for all 27 member states, not just the 23 signed up to it.

So, Cameron will not be forced to go to Parliament with a contentious treaty, nearly 20 years after John Major's trials with Maastricht. But does this decision ease his political headache?

In short, not really. The decision has won grudging support ("Credit where it's due -- Cameron has shown backbone," said Roger Helmer MEP), but it is by no means certain that calls for a referendum will end. Eurosceptics could feasibly still argue that the new treaty marks a major change in the power structures of EU and that the British public should be consulted.

It is unclear how much Nick Clegg knew about Cameron's hardline stance on this, but the Prime Minister's calculation will be that the Lib Dems will not walk out of coalition over this issue.

The other risk here is that "Britain's interests" will not necessarily be safeguarded. Cameron made defence of the City of London his price, demanding that any transfer of power from a national regulator to an EU regulator on financial services be subject to a veto. The cost was too high, as French President Nicolas Sarkozy (who has been pushing for a two-speed Europe) explained:

David Cameron requested something which we all considered was unacceptable. We couldn't have a waiver for the UK and in my view it would have undermined a lot of what we have done to regulate the financial sector.

Financial services regulation will press ahead without Britain, then. However, the Guardian points out that these regulations are decided by qualified majority voting, in which Britain does not have a veto. It can currently form a "blocking minority" to prevent legislation from going through, but if more countries join the euro this will shrink.

Cameron has taken a huge political gamble, hoping to channel Margaret Thatcher and her intransigence in Europe, rather than John Major and his struggles over the Maastricht Treaty. It has yet to be seen whether it will pay off. The first priority must be the resolution of the eurozone crisis, which Cameron himself said is "our biggest national interest". The next stage of talks will focus on saving the euro -- without Britain's input.

Samira Shackle is a freelance journalist, who tweets @samirashackle. She was formerly a staff writer for the New Statesman.

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Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.