My feelings took me by surprise. I did not expect the anger, the boiling full-on rage that swept me as I read about Article 50. Inside my head I was on the streets, smashing windows and setting things on fire. Screaming. Breaking.
Me, a person who has never so much as thrown a punch.
In all the years of my political talking and, eventually, independence activism, I find today that there must still have been some small part of me that felt (whisper it) British. I didn’t know. I suppose it can’t have been helped. We’re surrounded by that bloody flag and the endless propaganda.
That small British part is gone today. Just gone.
I have *never* felt so disconnected from the rest of the UK. In my life we’ve been ruled by Thatcher, Major, Blair, Brown, Cameron and May.
There have been wars aimed at stealing the resources of people of a different colour and the ongoing abomination of owning an arsenal of nuclear weapons. There have been countless sickening policies attacking the poor and vulnerable and at the same time a total lack of media discussion on their effects and legacy. We’ve seen the ‘mother of all parliaments’ revealed as no more than a childish shouting hall, stuffed with pigs, snouts deep in troughs – some even in moats. Above all, we’ve been witness to a systemic lack of accountability and a disconnect between the visions of our UK-wide politicians and the day-to-day life of our peoples.
We, on this unhappy island, have experienced the long and winding road of the perversion of democracy – not that we can in truth even call what the UK has democracy. It’s a sham. An insult.
Yet even after experiencing the mother of all shams, it has taken the actions of today to drive the final vestige of Britishness from me. Not just in the actions of an entirely undemocratic government, but also the support of a debased media – accountable only to a handful of billionaire, tax-avoiding owners. Worse yet are the countless individuals cheering on. Whether – I assume – despicable or delusional, these are ordinary people in whose outlook I can find no common ground, no sense.
I’m not even particularly a fan of the EU. In its current state, it clearly has veered from its original goals. Yet it can be fixed. It’s a big and awkward beast, too in thrall to the corporate world, and yet the potential for evolution seems viable.
The UK’s potential, however, does not appear viable. Through calculation, or more likely arrogance and utter, utter idiocy, the fracture that has run for decades through the Conservative Party has been cast over the entire United Kingdom. Something horrific and momentous is on the horizon and the UK is being intentionally steered into it.
Then we discover that May has chosen to place the sharing of information on terrorism with the EU on the same par as trade with the bloc. In simple terms, ‘You trade with us, or we won’t help catch terrorists.’ I can’t find words for that. I really can’t. I read earlier a comment that referenced Mitchell and Webb: ‘Are we… are we the baddies?’
We’re told that we can expect ten more years of this, maybe more. A murder of Tory Governments. This is not going to end well.