Cameron and Boris have sent Britain hurtling towards the EU exit

In a dramatic shift, both the PM and the Mayor now speak of EU withdrawal as a reasonable option.

When Michael Gove declared earlier this year that Britain should be prepared to leave the EU if Brussels refuses to return major powers to Westminster, his comments were viewed as extraordinary. But his words have now been all but echoed by the country's two most senior Conservatives: Boris Johnson and David Cameron.

Asked on Sunday on The Andrew Marr Show whether Britain should be prepared to walk away from the EU if it can't secure the concessions it wants, Johnson replied: "That is correct,  that's absolutely correct ... I mean I don't think it would be the end of the world. Don’t forget that 15 years ago the entire CBI, British Industry, the City, everybody was prophesying that there’d be gigantic mutant rats with two or three eyes swarming out of the gutters, the sewers, to gnaw the faces of the remaining British bankers because we didn’t go into the euro."

Yesterday in the Commons, mindful of the evolving threat from UKIP, David Cameron said that withdrawal from the EU was "imaginable".

"We are in charge of own destiny, we can make our own choices."

There we have it. EU withdrawal is not something that no sensible person should countenance but one of a menu of plausible policy options. In November, Angela Merkel declared: "I cannot imagine Britain not being part of Europe." Cameron has made it clear that he can. Having conceded as much, it will now be significantly harder for him to persuade his MPs and the public that they should not vote in favour of withdrawal if and when a referendum is held.

When he finally makes his speech on Europe in mid-January, Cameron will announce that a Conservative government would hold a referendum offering voters a choice between a looser relationship and none at all, an effective in/out plebiscite. The Prime Minister's hope is that the concessions he will extract from Brussels in areas such as social policy and justice, will convince his party that the benefits of membership outweigh the costs. But it is doubtful whether Barrasso and co. will play ball. As Nick Clegg declared in his recent speech on Europe, "It is wishful thinking to suggest we could effectively give ourselves a free pass to undercut the Single Market, only to then renegotiate our way back in to the laws that suit us." 

He rightly added: "And let’s be honest: many of the people who advocate repatriation are the same people who want us out of Europe – full stop." If Cameron wants to prevent them winning the debate, he needs to make an unambiguous and positive case for EU membership. So long as he is either unwilling or unable to do so, Britain will continue to hurtle towards the exit.

David Cameron said that UK withdrawal from the EU was "imaginable". Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Craig Oliver, Cameron's attack dog, finally bites

A new book reveals the spiteful after life of Downing Street's unlikely spin doctor.

It must be hard being a spin doctor: always in the shadows but always on-message. The murky control that the role requires might explain why David Cameron’s former director of communications Craig Oliver has rushed out his political memoirs so soon after his boss left Downing Street. Now that he has been freed from the shackles of power, Oliver has chosen to expose the bitterness that lingers among those on the losing side in the EU referendum.

The book, which is aptly titled Unleashing Demons, made headlines with its revelation that Cameron felt “badly let down” by Theresa May during the campaign, and that some in the Remain camp regarded the then home secretary as an “enemy agent”. It makes for gripping reading – yet seems uncharacteristically provocative in style for a man who eschewed the sweary spin doctor stereotype, instead advising Cameron to “be Zen” while Tory civil war raged during the Brexit campaign.

It may be not only politicians who find the book a tough read. Oliver’s visceral account of his side’s defeat on 24 June includes a description of how he staggered in a daze down Whitehall until he retched “harder than I have done in my life. Nothing comes up. I retch again – so hard, it feels as if I’ll turn inside out.”

It’s easy to see why losing hit Oliver – who was knighted in Cameron’s resignation honours list – so hard. Arguably, this was the first time the 47-year-old father-of-three had ever failed at anything. The son of a former police chief constable, he grew up in Scotland, went to a state school and studied English at St Andrews University. He then became a broadcast journalist, holding senior posts at the BBC, ITV and Channel 4.

When the former News of the World editor Andy Coulson resigned as No 10’s communications director in January 2011 because of unceasing references in the press to his alleged involvement in the phone-hacking scandal, Oliver was not the obvious replacement. But he was seen as a scandal-free BBC pen-pusher who exuded calm authority, and that won him the job. The Cameron administration, tainted by its association with the Murdoch media empire, needed somebody uncontroversial who could blend into the background.

It wasn’t just Oliver’s relative blandness that recommended him. At the BBC, he had made his name revamping the corporation’s flagship News at Ten by identifying the news angles that would resonate with Middle England. The Conservatives then put this skill to very good use during their 2015 election campaign. His broadcast expertise also qualified him to sharpen up the then prime minister’s image.

Oliver’s own sense of style, however, was widely ridiculed when he showed up for his first week at Downing Street looking every inch the metropolitan media male with a trendy man bag and expensive Beats by Dre headphones, iPad in hand.

His apparent lack of political affiliation caused a stir at Westminster. Political hacks were perplexed by his anti-spin attitude. His style was the antithesis of the attack-dog mode popularised by Alastair Campbell and Damian McBride in the New Labour years. As Robert Peston told the Daily Mail: “Despite working closely with Oliver for three years, I had no clue about his politics or that he was interested in politics.” Five years on, critics still cast aspersions and question his commitment to the Conservative cause.

Oliver survived despite early wobbles. The most sinister of these was the allegation that in 2012 he tried to prevent the Daily Telegraph publishing a story about expenses claimed by the then culture secretary, Maria Miller, using her links to the Leveson inquiry as leverage – an accusation that Downing Street denied. Nevertheless, he became indispensable to Cameron, one of a handful of trusted advisers always at the prime minister’s side.

Newspapers grumbled about Oliver’s preference for broadcast and social media over print. “He’s made it clear he [Oliver] doesn’t give a s*** about us, so I don’t really give a s*** about him,” a veteran correspondent from a national newspaper told Politico.

Yet that approach was why he was hired. There was the occasional gaffe, including the clumsy shot of a stern-looking Cameron, apparently on the phone to President Obama discussing Putin’s incursion into Ukraine, which was widely mocked on Twitter. But overall, reducing Downing Street’s dependence on print media worked: Scotland voted against independence in 2014 and the Tories won a majority in the 2015 general election.

Then came Brexit, a blow to the whole Cameroon inner circle. In his rush to set the record straight and defend Cameron’s legacy – as well as his own – Oliver has finally broken free of the toned-down, straight-guy persona he perfected in power. His memoir is spiteful and melodramatic, like something straight from the mouth of Malcolm Tucker in The Thick of It. Perhaps, with this vengeful encore to his mild political career, the unlikely spin doctor has finally fulfilled his potential. 

This article first appeared in the 29 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, May’s new Tories