Britain’s future is to be Europe’s only great power, not a satellite of Macron’s continental empire
‘AThe EU will always be a crucial partner, but we must not be drawn again into an ineffective system indifferent to our interests
Gullible commentators presented this as a bold new vision, and even as a concession to Britain. In fact, it is France’s ideal European system, which it has been touting for 40 years
ll changed, changed utterly: a terrible beauty is born.” Whether or not the Easter 1916 rebels merited Yeats’s grim tribute, the awe-inspiring courage of the Ukrainians certainly does. It has changed the world situation and Britain’s role.
What if the Ukrainians had been swiftly defeated, as Putin (and many in the West) expected? What if “gallant little Belgium” had acquiesced in German armies crossing their territory in August 1914 to defeat France? In both cases Britain, crucially, encouraged resistance. If Jeremy Hunt, Rishi Sunak or Jeremy Corbyn had been prime minister, or if Asquith had followed his instinct in 1914 that “there seems no reason why we should be anything more than spectators”, the future is likely to have been very different. Perhaps better, or less bad: people subjugated, but fewer killed. But alternative pasts are as unknowable as alternative futures. And now we have taken the audacious step of offering defence guarantees to Finland and Sweden.
This is a wholly unexpected consequence of Brexit. The contrast with the EU, and so far with the United States, is sharp. It suggests much about our future security strategy, and our relations with the Continent. It proves that Britain has not, as Remainers gleefully predicted, been marginalised. It shows that European security is not a purely European matter, but requires the participation of outside states – a principle Britain has consistently pursued since 1914, and which since 1949 has been institutionalised as Nato. The alliance is clearly not, as
Emmanuel Macron stated in 2019, “brain dead”, but it has the major handicap of its two biggest continental states, France and Germany, dragging their feet for political and economic reasons.
Britain’s newly active role is confirming the view of the Cambridge international relations specialist Professor Brendan Simms that Britain is Europe’s only genuine great power and one of the principal guarantors of its security – a view that not long ago seemed distinctly eccentric. Are we finally casting off the declinism that has handicapped Britain’s international role for half a century, and reduced it from being a leader to an acquiescent follower?
To move boldly into the Baltic would have astonished Palmerston or Gladstone – no shrinking violets. The Navy did tentatively confront Russia in the Baltic during the Crimean War in 1854, and London was prepared to send a fleet to protect Copenhagen in 1864 in the unlikely event of the Germans attacking it. We gave an empty guarantee to Poland in 1939. But never have we ventured so far east in offering security as now.
Of course, we can only do this as a leading member of a powerful and – let us hope – cohesive alliance. As a relatively small country, we have always needed allies, and cultivating alliances was a staple of our policy for centuries. The only time it failed – in 1778 – we lost an empire.
But who today are the big allies we can trust? Not, sad to say, France or Germany. So do we rely primarily on the “Anglosphere”, as many Brexiteers – including the present writer – have advocated? In the long run, probably yes. The concept of an “Anglosphere” emphasises the importance in the 21st century of ties of history, culture, law and economic interest. In a world so closely linked by modern communications, and yet where promiscuous “globalisation” has spawned new perils (most obviously from China), globe-spanning relationships with like-minded peoples have become vital.
An “Anglosphere” is not exclusive. It ought to be the solid core of wider relationships with willing European countries, of which the Scandinavian and Eastern European states are at the moment most prominent, and their Asian counterparts, actually or potentially threatened by China: Japan (Britain’s first ally in the 20th century), Taiwan, South Korea.
But in the short term, who can ignore the domestic divisions and “culture wars” that are pulling the oldest democracies apart – including, of course, ourselves? New Zealand and Canada seem pretty far gone in synthetic guilt and self-loathing. Biden’s America is a less than solid ally to anyone. India is in the throes of sectarian strife and its unending cold war with Pakistan. And what about us: will the United Kingdom still exist in a couple of decades?
Politicians, diplomats and commentators naturally emphasise the short term, and the political froth. Fortunately, deeper institutional relationships endure beneath the surface, most importantly in the present context those between the intelligence services and the armed forces of our allies, which are highly integrated. The Aukus agreement between Australia, Britain and America underlined this. But significantly, it did not include New Zealand.
The cultivation of political, economic and security links with these allies and potential allies should be the first concern of any British government. But is it? Why – as Australian diplomats and politicians have recently stated so bluntly – has Britain been half-hearted in pursuing trade agreements with our friends and natural economic partners? Their view is that British officials, lobbies and timid politicians have preferred keeping ties with EU suppliers rather than diversifying our sources of food.
For example, we import annually 280,000 tons of beef from the EU, but our new trade treaty with New Zealand maintains high tariffs and only allows in 12,000 tons. This policy does not protect British farmers and certainly not British consumers as food prices spiral. It mainly protects Irish and European farmers, with unlimited and privileged access to our market for their expensive and often factory-farmed produce. We have made ourselves dependent on EU food imports passing through a few pinch points – our equivalent of Germany’s reliance on Russian gas. So the Government has been much bolder in confronting Moscow than it has Brussels, which has ever since 2016 rejected every practical proposal for managing the Irish border, and which dismisses tough talk from Britain as bluff.
Now President Macron has suggested a “European Confederation” which we might graciously be allowed to join. Gullible commentators have presented this as a bold new vision, and even as a concession to Britain. In fact, it is France’s ideal European system, which it has been touting periodically for a good 40 years.
It means an inner eurozone core dominated by France and Germany – what Macron likes to call “sovereign Europe” – with rings of satellites extending to the outer reaches of Europe’s sphere (Norway, Turkey, North Africa, Britain …). The satellites would be pulled inexorably into the orbit of the core EU, over which they would have no control. This is the ultimate reiteration of the subordinate status the EU has been trying to foist on Britain since 2016. We would have to be extraordinarily naïve to fall for what would be worse than EU membership. It would, moreover, smooth the path for the breakaway of Scotland and Northern Ireland.
Our security, both strategic and economic, requires us to be global. This has been our trajectory since the 18th century. De Gaulle said this when he kept us out of the Common Market: we were “sea-going, bound up by trade, markets, food supplies with the most varied and distant countries”. Europe is one partner among many, and our back door. We will help to keep it bolted by aiding countries that wish to be our allies to defend themselves. We would even, in extreme circumstances, give intelligence, naval and air support. But we must not be drawn into an ineffective Eu-based system which has repeatedly shown itself to be at best indifferent to our interests, most obviously in Ireland. Our front door faces west, and our high road is the ocean.