I’m politically homeless – so what should I do now?
I could vote Change UK – but it doesn’t even sound like a political party
Oh, it’s the European elections next week and I, for one, can’t wait. There are lots of reasons: no more leaflets through the door, no more dreary discussions on the Today programme, no more arguing with my husband about discriminatory Slovak retail taxes… But, above all, I can’t wait to find out who I should vote for.
Right now, I have no idea. None. I am officially a floating voter. And the thing about us floating voters is that, unless one party or another throws us a lifeline, we sink. People like me are drowning, not waving. I’m in that minority of a minority: reluctant Remainers who didn’t want to leave (unilateral madness) and didn’t want to stay (EU insanity) but chose to sit tight, close our eyes to the looming superstate and hope for the best.
By “the best”, we meant root-andbranch reform of the European Project. But David “hot tub” Cameron went cap in hand to Europe before the referendum campaign to halfheartedly plead for “special status”. In retrospect, it was no great surprise he returned empty-handed after Donald Tusk laughed him out of Strasbourg, Angela Merkel gave him a wedgie and he lost his titfer to Jean-claude Juncker in a drinking game.
But, three years on, am I alone in thinking that Brexit should have been finished and handed in ages ago? Instead, it has been extended endlessly, so now it’s all over the place and has lost both focus and merit.
I did not vote for Brexit. And if it must yet happen, I’d prefer a marshmallow-soft version, please. I’m
agnostic about a second referendum. None of this makes me a bad person.
But do you see my dilemma? My views have put paid to me crossing the box beside the Brexit Party, the Conservatives, Ukip, UKEUP (no, I hadn’t heard of the UK EU Party either) and Labour, which has yet to cobble together a coherent and consistent Brexit position, meaning there’s hardly anyone left.
“I’m going to vote Lib Dem,” I told my spouse the other day. “You can’t,” he said. “I beg your pardon?” I replied. “Who made you the boss of me? Apart from millennia of oppressive patriarchy and possibly my marriage vows because I was so excited about the frock that I can’t remember what I agreed to?” “No, I mean you can’t because remember what they did? They betrayed their principles,” he cried. “Gosh, that’s a bit hardcore, darling. I’ve betrayed my own principles often enough to know that eventually you’ve got to forgive. Even Nick Clegg,” I interjected. “Plus, now Sir Vince Cable is in charge. He’s 76, you know. Is it so terribly wrong to want to make an old man happy?”
My husband, I should mention, is a disaffected member of the Labour Party. He thinks Jeremy Corbyn “possibly” means well, but that it would be better for democracy if he retired to his allotment.
But until Jexit, those of us caught up in the current unprecedented wave of political homelessness are all at sea and going a little crazy. Worse, people like me could find ourselves in such urgent need of a berth come May 23 that we might well end up in a deeply unsatisfying political one-night stand and live to regret it forever, now that Brexit doesn’t actually appear to mean Brexit at all.
I could, of course, vote Green, which in national elections always feels like a worthy, if slightly ineffectual gesture; not dissimilar to fastidiously tearing the plastic windows from brown envelopes as a way of combating global pollution.
But in a European election, where pro-remain Greens are more numerous and already have three MEPS, it makes some sense. Or it would if we weren’t supposed to be leaving Europe.
Which leaves me with the nebulous prospect of Change UK, formerly known as The Independent Group. Unfortunately, it doesn’t even sound like a political party, which is disappointing – like its low single-figure polling – because some of us could really do with one.
Out here in the cold, among the hypothermic floating voters, we have no idea what “change” signifies: a rescue vessel or a shark attack? We are acutely aware that staying put is not an option, but change for change’s sake isn’t a great sales pitch either.
Commentators have pointed out that short of calling itself the Remain Party, Change UK would have been better to have agreed a joint list of candidates in alliance with the Lib Dems, Greens, SNP and Plaid Cymru, to maximise the anti-brexit vote. But despite Sir Vince’s pillow talk, they’ve all refused to get into bed with him.
Now, voters like me will probably have to figure out what to do by themselves, through tactical voting. But who’s got the energy for all that googling? Not I.
On their current showing, I suspect that I ought to vote Tory as they have done a very effective job in keeping us in Europe.
Sure, the ongoing rancour will probably split the Conservatives asunder, but I trust I speak for the country when I say we’ve all enjoyed the unexpected and unending smörgåsbord of meaningful, indicative, free, heavily whipped and lightly caramelised parliamentary votes that have been served up in recent months for our delectation.
None of them came to anything much. So is it any wonder I feel quite downbeat at the prospect of disconsolately paddling my way to play Eeny, meeny, miny, moe at the ballot box on Thursday?
I am not sure which is worse: feeling adrift as a floating voter – or being left high and dry by the mainstream parties.