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.

Daily Mail
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Who "speaks for England" - and for that matter, what is "England"?

The Hollywood producer Sam Gold­wyn once demanded, “Let’s have some new clichés.” The Daily Mail, however, is always happiest with the old ones.

The Hollywood producer Sam Gold­wyn once demanded, “Let’s have some new clichés.” The Daily Mail, however, is always happiest with the old ones. It trotted out Leo Amery’s House of Commons call from September 1939, “Speak for England”, for the headline on a deranged leader that filled a picture-free front page on David Cameron’s “deal” to keep Britain in the EU.

Demands that somebody or other speak for England have followed thick and fast ever since Amery addressed his call to Labour’s Arthur Greenwood when Neville Chamberlain was still dithering over war with Hitler. Tory MPs shouted, “Speak for England!” when Michael Foot, the then Labour leader, rose in the Commons in 1982 after Argentina’s invasion of the Falklands. The Mail columnist Andrew Alexander called on Clare Short to “speak for England” over the Iraq War in 2003. “Can [Ed] Miliband speak for England?” Anthony Barnett asked in this very magazine in 2013. (Judging by the 2015 election result, one would say not.) “I speak for England,” claimed John Redwood last year. “Labour must speak for England,” countered Frank Field soon afterwards.

The Mail’s invocation of Amery was misconceived for two reasons. First, Amery wanted us to wage war in Europe in support of Hitler’s victims in Poland and elsewhere and in alliance with France, not to isolate ourselves from the continent. Second, “speak for England” in recent years has been used in support of “English votes for English laws”, following proposals for further devolution to Scotland. As the Mail was among the most adamant in demanding that Scots keep their noses out of English affairs, it’s a bit rich of it now to state “of course, by ‘England’. . . we mean the whole of the United Kingdom”.

 

EU immemorial

The Mail is also wrong in arguing that “we are at a crossroads in our island history”. The suggestion that the choice is between “submitting to a statist, unelected bureaucracy in Brussels” and reclaiming our ancient island liberties is pure nonsense. In the long run, withdrawing from the EU will make little difference. Levels of immigration will be determined, as they always have been, mainly by employers’ demands for labour and the difficulties of policing the borders of a country that has become a leading international transport hub. The terms on which we continue to trade with EU members will be determined largely by unelected bureaucrats in Brussels after discussions with unelected bureaucrats in London.

The British are bored by the EU and the interminable Westminster arguments. If voters support Brexit, it will probably be because they then expect to hear no more on the subject. They will be sadly mistaken. The withdrawal negotiations will take years, with the Farages and Duncan Smiths still foaming at the mouth, Cameron still claiming phoney victories and Angela Merkel, François Hollande and the dreaded Jean-Claude Juncker playing a bigger part in our lives than ever.

 

An empty cabinet

Meanwhile, one wonders what has become of Jeremy Corbyn or, indeed, the rest of the shadow cabinet. The Mail’s “speak for England” leader excoriated him for not mentioning “the Number One subject of the hour” at PM’s Questions but instead asking about a shortage of therapeutic radiographers in the NHS. In fact, the NHS’s problems – almost wholly caused by Tory “reforms” and spending cuts – would concern more people than does our future in the EU. But radiographers are hardly headline news, and Corbyn and his team seem unable to get anything into the nation’s “any other business”, never mind to the top of its agenda.

Public services deteriorate by the day, George Osborne’s fiscal plans look increasingly awry, and attempts to wring tax receipts out of big corporations appear hopelessly inadequate. Yet since Christmas I have hardly seen a shadow minister featured in the papers or spotted one on TV, except to say something about Trident, another subject that most voters don’t care about.

 

Incurable prose

According to the Guardian’s admirable but (let’s be honest) rather tedious series celeb­rating the NHS, a US health-care firm has advised investors that “privatisation of the UK marketplace . . . should create organic and de novo opportunities”. I have no idea what this means, though it sounds ominous. But I am quite certain I don’t want my local hospital or GP practice run by people who write prose like that.

 

Fashionable Foxes

My home-town football team, Leicester City, are normally so unfashionable that they’re not even fashionable in Leicester, where the smart set mostly watch the rugby union team Leicester Tigers. Even when they installed themselves near the top of the Premier League before Christmas, newspapers scarcely noticed them.

Now, with the Foxes five points clear at the top and 7-4 favourites for their first title, that mistake is corrected and the sports pages are running out of superlatives, a comparison with Barcelona being the most improbable. Even I, not a football enthusiast, have watched a few matches. If more football were played as Leicester play it – moving at speed towards their opponents’ goal rather than aimlessly weaving pretty patterns in midfield – I would watch the game more.

Nevertheless, I recall 1963, when Leicester headed the old First Division with five games to play. They picked up only one more point and finished fourth, nine points adrift of the league winners, Everton.

 

Gum unstuck

No, I don’t chew toothpaste to stop me smoking, as the last week’s column strangely suggested. I chew Nicorette gum, a reference written at some stage but somehow lost (probably by me) before it reached print.

Editor: The chief sub apologises for this mistake, which was hers

Peter Wilby was editor of the Independent on Sunday from 1995 to 1996 and of the New Statesman from 1998 to 2005. He writes the weekly First Thoughts column for the NS.

This article first appeared in the 11 February 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The legacy of Europe's worst battle