The Euro elite are totally out of touch with the
modern world
The realities of 21st-century politics are finally catching up with the guardians of the single currency.
By Matthew d'Ancona
It is extraordinary to recall that, until June last
year, HM Treasury still had a “euro preparations unit”, finally abolished in
George Osborne’s emergency Budget. This was the last, fossilised remains of the
“prepare and decide” strategy adopted by New Labour, the premise of which – at
least in the Blair years – was that Britain should and would join the single
currency at some point in the future.
In past weeks, we have grown used to the eurozone as
supplicant: the garlicky tramp on the pavement with a piece of cardboard on a
string round his neck, bearing the words: “Will work for bail-out.” Even now,
Osborne’s team is working on a host of contingency plans, to be triggered by
crises ranging from Greece’s exit from the single currency, to the full-blown
collapse of the eurozone.
How far Europe has travelled since Tony Blair unveiled
his National Changeover Plan in February 1999, the preparatory campaign to make
Britain’s businesses, banks, retailers, public authorities, and media ready for
the referendum that he assumed would take place in his second term – and if not
then, eventually. In his 2002 party conference speech, Blair referred to the
euro as “not just about our economy, but our destiny”.
If the Cannes G20 summit established anything beyond
doubt, it is that the European Union unaided cannot resolve this crisis. That
much is clear from the International Monetary Fund’s new role as Silvio
Berlusconi’s fiscal supervisor (or, to use the local idiom, his bunga bunga
minda). No 10 despairs at the intransigence of Germany. Nicolas Sarkozy growls
at Cameron that eurozone leaders are “sick of you criticising us and telling
what to do”. Sans doute, M Le President: but what exactly are you doing? How
confident are you that Greece will avoid disaster – or Italy, for that matter?
How sure are you that Mario Draghi, the new president of the European Central
Bank, is capable of overhauling the ECB and its functions?
Looking up at the huge modern edifice of the euro
tottering, tilting and melting – a Corbusian nightmare as imagined by DalĂ – it
is easy to forget how prevalent was the view that Britain would condemn itself
to a second-class status in Europe and a lesser role on the global stage if it
stayed out of the shiny new currency. Even some of the staunchest Eurosceptics,
who saw that the euro was economic folly and a constitutional affront, fretted
privately that it would bulldoze all before it. Elsewhere, there was brash talk
– hilarious to remember – of the euro becoming a global reserve currency like
the dollar.
For the Coalition, a number of narrow political
questions arise from the Cannes gathering. Already Tory euro-rebels, joined by
Labour, are objecting to the prospective increase in the British contribution
to the IMF. The Prime Minister insists that the last Commons vote on the UK’s
obligation “allowed some extra headroom”, and that no further parliamentary
approval will be necessary. That may be arithmetically so, but Ed Balls and the
Tory sceptics will not let sums stand in the way of their demands.
“This [crisis] is having a chilling effect on our
economy,” said the PM at his press conference in Cannes. “Every day that it
goes on unresolved is a day that’s not good for our economic prospects.” True
enough, but also politically pivotal: it is of the utmost importance to Conservative
electoral prospects that the public buys into the claim that the eurozone
crisis bears much of the blame for the sheer duration of their hardships. It is
toward past Labour crime and present euro-folly that Cameron wants the voters
to direct their resentment – lest they pay heed to the cries from the Left
(spend even more!) or the Right (spend even less!).
Such is the political ticker tape spilling out of
Cannes to Westminster. But it is pommes de terre petites compared to the
greater meaning of this crisis. Though its internal contradictions may yet have
appalling economic consequences, the euro was always a political project, and
one based on a quasi-religious, providential view of history and Europe’s
destiny. After 1989, the EU and the idea of the euro filled the Marx-shaped
hole in the world-view of the Left, and presented a new teleology in which a
whole continent was going to be bound together, inexorably, by a single
currency.
It is astonishing to hear the very same people who
said Britain would be consigned to irrelevance outside the euro now insisting
that we have a neighbourly duty to prevent its implosion: we do have such a
duty, but it is based on hard-nosed self-interest, not obligation to the
continental sages who – betraying their ignorance of history and its
magnificent unpredictability – once insisted that their grand projet would
inevitably succeed.
One of the many errors the Founding Fathers of the
euro made was to underestimate the resilience of the nation state. Yes, we live
in a world in which technology, money and people flow across borders with
greater ease than ever before. Globalisation makes the planet dramatically
interdependent: Philip Bobbitt, the constitutional historian, has written
brilliantly of the emergence of what he calls the “market state”. Even so, the
nation has retained much of its cohesion, its significance and its grip on
popular loyalty. One of the reasons that international elites hate Israel so
much is that it is the clearest and most passionate example of this durability.
In the case of the euro, nation states have,
predictably, followed fiscal strategies that suit them, rather than the rules
and pacts that support the currency. That’s what nations do – which is why the
euro will need some kind of formal fiscal union if it is to survive, an even
bigger pooling of sovereignty than the abolition of 17 national currencies
(most recently, in January, the Estonian kroon).
As nation states have survived more than five decades
of euro-bombast, so supra-national politicians are finding themselves
increasingly at odds with what might be called “referendal” politics. Direct
democracy, plebiscites, e-petitions, the “Occupy” protests around the world,
even the culture of phone voting in television shows: it is here that the impetus
and the energy lie, uncoordinated and multidirectional though the phenomenon
may be. The entire Cannes summit was nearly thrown off course by the wild-card
threat of a referendum in Greece on the latest rescue plan. The psychology of
the EU – a postwar elite bureaucracy – is entirely out of kilter with this very
modern surge of popular protest: technology-driven, non-hierarchical,
anti-elitist. It is like trying to connect an old ribbon typewriter to an iPad.
This crisis is about much more than the fate of a
12-year-old currency. It is a test of what politicians are for, what they can
achieve when pitted against market caprice and fiscal incontinence. John Major
used to say that this country belonged “at the heart of Europe”. Now, David
Cameron is among the ring of medics yelling “Clear!”, as defibrillation is
administered to the very same failing organ. Turns out that the heart of Europe
was dicky all along. And for that cardiac frailty, the global body politic may
yet pay a deep and terrible price.