Friends Let Friends Brexit

The Weekly Standard, March 21, 2016

Complacency, laziness, or a simple failure to keep up can reduce foreign policy to a habit, unexamined and out of date. The United States traditionally smiled on the idea of tighter European integration. Binding the nations of Western Europe more closely together would bolster them against Soviet expansionism and render them less likely to fall out (yet again) among themselves, the latter a pastime that tended to cost American lives. British membership in what became the European Union (the U.K. joined in 1973) was supported by Uncle Sam, not least because the Brits could be expected to push the nascent bloc in a more Atlanticist direction, politically and economically.

Against that historical backdrop, there is nothing surprising about the increasingly tough line taken by the Obama administration against "Brexit"— a vote by the British people to exit the EU in a referendum to be held on June 23. The president has long made known his preference for "a strong U.K. in a strong European Union." And preference may be too weak a word. In 2013 the State Department's Philip Gordon explained that British membership in the EU was "essential and critical to the United States." It's neither.

As referendum day approaches, the administration's tone has become a tad menacing. Speaking last October, America's senior trade diplomat, Michael Froman (who worked as a trainee at the European Commission years before), warned that Washington would not put much priority on a free trade deal with a post-Brexit Britain. Being one of America's closest allies and the fifth-largest economy in the world apparently doesn't count for much.

Meanwhile, according to the chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, President Obama is planning a "big, public reach-out" to mutinous Brits in the near future. Some tact might be worth a try.

Again, seen against the historical background, there's nothing very unusual about all this. Seen against contemporary reality, however, it looks overwrought. The administration's starting point, one must assume, is concern that Brexit would do serious harm to the rest of the EU. That's not likely, but even if it were a real risk, a glance at the calendar should avert panic. It is not 1914 and, despite its vanity and that nutty Nobel Prize, the EU is not the guarantor of European peace. Nor is it 1980: The Soviet threat is history.

And nasty Vlad Putin? Well, pushing the EU's "ever closer union" far beyond where it was prudent to go, whether with the euro or recklessly loose immigration policies, has created the conditions in which extremism can thrive, conditions the Kremlin has not been slow to exploit. Old ghosts are stirring across the continent and Putin, getting pally with a Le Pen and chummy with a Syriza, is only too pleased to rile them up. In this respect, the EU has been a problem, not a solution.

For all the troubles set in motion by the EU's surfeit of ambition, there are few signs that it is prepared to change course. The default answer, whether in Brussels or Berlin, to the union's mainly self-inflicted woes continues to be "more Europe" — at the Greek border, in the finance ministries of the eurozone, everywhere. The dream of a new kind of "empire" (to borrow the word used by former European Commission president José Manuel Barroso) is alive if not well. And — let's not forget — in this dream the EU stars as a challenger to the colossus across the ocean, both in the way it runs itself (no Anglo-Saxon capitalism, merci!) and internationally.

This goal matters more than it once did, and much more than the U.S. foreign policy establishment seems willing to recognize. Despite its current difficulties, the EU is far more formidable than two or three decades ago: Its reach has stretched both within its borders and beyond. There is already an EU "foreign minister." Angela Merkel has in the past expressed interest in a European army. That could evolve into a curb on the ability of more confident powers (Britain and France, say) to take independent action and in any event would be an unwelcome distraction from NATO.

The best guess is that Brexit would leave the EU somewhat shrunk but essentially unscathed. There will be no great unraveling. For Washington to oppose Brexit for fear it might dent the (now destabilizing and destructive) progress of "ever closer union" makes no sense. Such an outcome is improbable, but it would be a feature, not a bug.

And the argument that the United States should encourage the U.K. to stay in to act as a brake on the EU's long march towards Barroso's empire overlooks the fact that the time when the U.K. could alter the EU's trajectory has passed. In the 1980s the EU turned towards economic liberalization in a manner unthinkable to its dirigiste founders, largely thanks to the U.K. and more specifically the influence of Thatcherism, then at its peak. A decade or so later, British pressure played a significant part in the EU's expansion into lands that Moscow once controlled. That helped anchor much of Eastern Europe in the West, a development that Washington had every reason to celebrate.

But these successes were the product of a specific time and—in those halcyon days between the collapse of communism and the collapse of Lehman Brothers—a specific ideological moment. Mrs. Thatcher is no more, and the behavior of some of her successors is a reminder that Washington cannot assume a British government will be as in tune with American economic and political thinking as was the case during the Reagan years. What's more, Britain now represents a smaller part of a larger union from which the wise decision to keep clear of the euro has left it semi-detached, although not detached enough. Its ability to nudge the EU along a more America-friendly path is not what it was.

While the U.K. finds it more difficult to influence the EU, the EU is busy reshaping the U.K. This is more than the cumulative effect of all the powers that have been transferred from London to Brussels over the years. It also reflects the passing of time, shifting demographics, and what people have become used to: 1973 was an eon ago. Younger Brits feel more "European" than their elders. June 23 may well be the Brexiteers' last chance to get their country out — and back. A recent YouGov poll showed 63 percent of those between the ages of 18 and 29 wanting to remain in the EU; 56 percent of those over 60 thought the U.K. should quit. The understanding of what it means to be British is changing, a transformation that is eroding the old instinctive, if sometimes patchy, Atlanticism of this country's closest and most reliable European ally. That's a transformation that will gather pace if Britain remains in the EU, and it's a transformation that the United States should not want to see.

By contrast, the possibility of a very different transformation in the way the British Isles are run may offer a sounder basis for American opposition to Brexit. There is an obvious danger that the U.K.'s departure from the EU might provoke the departure of (relatively Europhile) Scotland from the U.K. The broader consequences of that are as misty as a Highland glen, but the prospect of the Scottish National party— a party only reluctantly committed to NATO — running an independent Scotland won't thrill the Pentagon. On the other hand, even if Britain remains in the EU, the chances of Scotland's eventually going its own way — particularly if oil prices revive — already appear to be high. In that event, all that Brexit will do is speed things up. That said, the uncertainty that will inevitably follow Britain's break with Brussels might persuade nervous Scots that they would rather stick with the auld devil they know, especially as a tartan return to the European fold is far from guaranteed. Spain, mindful of restless Catalonia, would not endorse a precedent that made it easy for secessionist states to "rejoin" the EU.

Then there's the economy. If the U.K. opts for Brexit (still unlikely, I reckon), it will make for a choppy June 24 in the financial markets. And not just June 24.

But hysteria is what markets do. Britain could flourish outside the EU. It could not, however, afford to ignore its ex over the water. The U.K. may have to accept a closer relationship with the EU (perhaps something akin to the status enjoyed by Norway in the European Economic Area) than many Brexiteers would like. For its part, Brussels will need to remember how good a market Britain is for the EU's exporters. It will have to rein in a natural inclination to "punish" the Brits, an inclination sharpened by paranoia that too smooth a separation might tempt others to stray. But the alternative would damage both the U.K. and its former EU partners.

Encouraging the two sides to agree to a velvet divorce might be the next occasion on which Washington has to rescue Europe from itself.

Fear Is The Key

The Weekly Standard, February 19, 2016

Voters in the United Kingdom will be choosing — in a referendum to be held by the end of next year, and perhaps as early as June — whether or not to stay in the European Union. Barack Obama wants the U.K. to stay put and is reportedly planning "a big, public reach-out" to persuade Brits to stick with the EU.

It's not the first time the American president has weighed in on this most British (or European) of questions, but the timing was telling. It came immediately after EU "president" (it's complicated, but that designation will have to do) Donald Tusk unveiled the draft settlement intended to bring David Cameron's attempt to "renegotiate" Britain's position in the EU to a satisfactory conclusion. What was unveiled was underwhelming; the derision with which it was greeted was anything but. It's not hard to guess why Obama believes that Cameron could use a helping hand.

Britain's prime minister cannot be entirely surprised that it has come to this. An unimaginative politician without much feel for what truly matters, Cameron has never wanted Britain to exit ("Brexit," as such a departure is unattractively known) the European Union. He agreed to the planned referendum reluctantly and only as a device to head off the Euroskeptic challenge to his Conservative party ahead of the 2015 general election.

Cameron's idea was, when reelected, to recommend that Britain remain in the EU on the basis of a new deal negotiated with its European partners: a deal he must have realized would not— could not — amount to very much. The EU rests on a set of fundamental principles. These include "ever closer union" (the ratchet that provides that integration must forever move forward), the "four freedoms" (the free movement of goods, capital, services, and people within the union), and the primacy of EU law. Abandoning or even diluting any of those principles, even for just one country, would risk unraveling the whole European project: It was never going to happen.

Cameron's problem was that many of the objections that the British have to the EU flow from those very same principles. "Ever closer union" means what it says: U.K. sovereignty is continuously being eroded, with its democracy going the same way. Britain's laws and its courts are subordinated to those of the European Union. And, most sensitively of all, Brits fear they have lost control of their borders: EU immigration into the U.K. is currently running at a net 180,000 per year, an issue made all the more toxic by the migrant crisis on the Continent.

All the prime minister could do was try to use his renegotiation to change the subject, focusing attention on sideshows, some significant and some not. Thus the proposed agreement would, among other less than glorious "victories," chip away at some "in-work" welfare benefits enjoyed by EU migrants, give the feeblest of boosts to the role of national parliaments, and win the U.K. a degree of protection from eurozone bullying. But, overall, the result is a sad, scaled-back little ragbag of half-measures and trivia that still has yet (as I write) to be finalized. Despite some flummery (it will be filed with the U.N.!), the eventual settlement may well, legally, be nothing more than an agreement to agree, which is to say very little indeed.

Cameron began his efforts to sell this crock on an upbeat note. It would pave the way for a "substantial change" in Britain's relationship with Brussels. (Well, no.) "Hand on heart," he had "delivered" on the "commitments" made in the Conservative manifesto. (Nope, not hardly.) The deal was so good that, if Britain were not already a member of the EU, he would have advised joining on these terms. (Words fail me.)

The reviews were savage. The press coverage that followed the disclosure of the deal's details was some of the worst that Cameron has ever known. And the grumbling in Conservative ranks didn't take long to get going. To one Tory MP, Cameron had been reduced to "polishing poo." Nor was the discontent confined to dissidents in Westminster (at least 20 percent of his parliamentary party at the latest count). Most Conservative activists are Euroskeptics; so too about half of Tory voters. Polls show a swing of support towards Brexit.

A nervous Cameron has turned (again) to "Project Fear" (the name comes from a strategy used successfully and rather more legitimately in the 2014 referendum on Scottish independence), spinning scare stories to frighten Brits away from the Brexit door. This plays on the understandable anxiety that many British voters have about life outside the EU.

Late last year I was discussing, with a leading Brexit advocate, the chances voters would choose to leave the EU. In his view, the country divided roughly into thirds: One-third would opt for Brexit come what may; one-third would always prefer to stay in the EU; the rest are somewhere in the middle and could go either way.

This last group, obviously, will decide the outcome, and its members are likely to be susceptible to bleak warnings of the catastrophes that divorce from Brussels could set in motion. They may not be enthusiastic about the EU, but they will not want to risk too much to escape it. Cameron's grim (and quickly discredited) prediction that, in the event of Brexit, migrant camps in Calais could be relocated to the U.K. was one example of Project Fear at work. There have been plenty of others in recent months (Mass unemployment! No more cheap flights abroad! Goldman Sachs to move an office!) — so many and so absurd that they have given birth to an Internet meme depicting fire-breathing dragons, giant waves, and other horrors that will follow in Brexit's wake.

Uncertainty is one of fear's most effective enablers. Euroskeptics need to paint a clearer picture of what sort of arrangements Britain might have with the EU after a divorce. But the Leave camp is badly divided, not least over what the country's options could include. One alternative would be to sign up for the European Economic Area and "do a Norway." This would give the U.K. access to the EU's single market, and there would be little in the way of immediate, visible change, something wavering voters in the middle may find reassuring. For other Brexiteers, that's too modest: Britain, the fifth-largest economy in the world, ought, they argue, to be able to cut a better bargain. But what if its jilted European partners, angry and worried about the precedent being set, balk at agreeing to anything, Norwegian-style or otherwise, that makes leaving the EU look too easy? At this point, it's impossible to say: awkwardly for the Out crowd there are only so many questions that can be answered in advance.

The final version of the deal between Cameron and the rest of the EU has— as we go to press — yet to be settled. From what's already known, we can be sure that what's in it will not change the minds of the solidly Euroskeptical. But what of the wobbly center? The deal may contain enough to convince some of those who lean Brussels's way, and might even win over some of the genuinely undecided. But what those calling for Brexit should really fear is not Cameron's deal, but fear itself. And most of them aren't taking that threat seriously enough. Yes, the polls may have shown some encouraging signs of movement in Brexit's direction, but their overall message suggests that the dismal status quo will prevail.

These are politically volatile times, but, as things stand now, the best guess is that the British will vote against taking what is all too easily caricatured as a dangerous leap into the dark.

Will we lose America if we vote for Brexit?

Prospect, February 17, 2016

The news that Barack Obama is, in the words of the chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee Bob Corker, planning “a big, public reach-out” to persuade British voters to remain in the EU should not come as a great surprise. Obama has made his thoughts clear on this topic for a while now, and so have his surrogates, including Michael Froman, America’s most senior trade official. In October last year, Froman somewhat menacingly suggested that the US would not be particularly interested in signing a trade agreement with a post-Brexit Britain.

For his part, Obama was in sync with the long-established, bipartisan Washington line. Henry Kissinger may never have said, in the words famously attributed to him, “Who do I call if I want to call Europe?” but the US has backed deeper European integration since the dawn of the Cold War. It was regarded as a supplement of sorts to NATO as well as a guarantee that Europeans would not again be at each other’s throats. Having, as they saw it, come in to rescue the old world twice in one century, Americans were anxious to avoid a third go-round.

And with British power waning, the US thought that London should throw in its lot with Brussels, not least because the Brits could be useful allies there. Damon Wilson, a former member of George W Bush’s National Security Council, recently fretted that Brexit would deprive the US “of a critical voice in shaping not only EU policy, but the future of Europe.” This viewpoint that may not reflect political reality (no member state is more outvoted in the EU than Britain), but it remains highly influential nonetheless.

However, a few months earlier, Jeb Bush had this to say about Froman’s not so veiled threat: “Great Britain is a sovereign nation, and they must make this decision about their relationship with Europe on their own. The US should not be putting a thumb on the scale and certainly shouldn’t bully an ally.” Marco Rubio, another candidate for Republican presidential nomination, followed suit: “Irrespective of what decision the UK makes… they’ll continue to be certainly our best friend in the world and one of our strongest alliances.”

Donald Trump may be raising the prospect of “revolutions” in Europe, but even in less excitable sections of the American right, sympathies are starting to swing away from the Brussels project. The succession of crises that has shaken the EU has also shaken the perception that it is a stabilising force on the continent—a perception that has always underpinned America’s longstanding enthusiasm for an “ever closer union” it has never quite understood.

And members of America’s conservative pundit class have recently begun to take a more critical look at what the EU stands for. Its supranationalism and suspicion of Anglo-Saxon capitalism don’t play well, and nor do obvious signs of anti-Americanism. For now, the broader Washington consensus on the EU is more or less unchanged, but there will be more sympathy for Brexit on the American right than there would once have been.

Conversely, to a good number of American progressives, including almost certainly Obama, the EU is a glimpse of a better tomorrow, a fine example to their own country, nicer, greener, its supranationalism an advantage. To be sure, Brexit would be unhelpful to America’s broader interests as traditionally defined (reinforced by worries that if a British departure from the EU triggers Scottish independence, the implications for NATO could be grim.) At the same time, there’s an element of moral disapproval too, fuelled by bien-pensant prejudice: walking away from that better tomorrow would be retrograde, reactionary, nationalist.

Then again, the EU’s disasters and triumphs, let alone the twists and turns of the Brexit saga pass most Americans by. And it’s hard to think that US business is much more concerned by a British rejection of “ever closer union.” Yes, there’s widespread appreciation for the single market, but the disapproving comments of some American multinationals and Wall Street power players about Brexit can largely be disregarded as political moves designed to curry favour in London, Brussels and Berlin. For the most part, American companies can be expected to take a pragmatic view. The problem for them is less Brexit than the uncertainty over what it will look like. British voters may feel the same way.

‘Polishing Poo’: Cameron’s Dirty Deal with the EU

National Review Online, February 10, 2016

To pull a rabbit out of a hat, there has to be a hat. In a speech in January 2013, British prime minister David Cameron promised to negotiate a fundamental reworking of Britain’s relationship with the European Union. There would then be a referendum to decide whether Brits wanted to quit the union or stick with it to enjoy the “new settlement” Cameron had secured. There was bold, delusional, or dishonest (take your pick, I’ll go for dishonest) talk of strengthening the EU’s “democratic legitimacy,” of opting out of the forced march toward “ever closer union,” of power “flowing back” to the member states, of an increased role for national parliaments. Euroskeptics scoffed. They were right to. There was no hat. The EU is what it is, and what it is not is some sort of super-free-trade zone: If Cameron got what he wanted, it would no longer be the EU. The rest of the EU was never going to go along with that.

And, now, three years later, the EU’s “president,” Donald Tusk, is brandishing a draft deal that makes that all too clear. Mr. Cameron doesn’t seem too fussed. Many Britons have identified Tusk’s settlement for the malevolent nothing that it is, but their prime minister is insisting that the rabbit that they don’t see is in fact there. He is, he explains, on the edge of winning a splendid new deal for Britain.

It’s customary at times like this to drag out tired old analogies with poor Neville Chamberlain, so notoriously swindled by a wily foreigner at Munich, but that comparison doesn’t work here. No one has swindled Cameron, but if he sells this deal, he will have swindled his country.

In that speech three years ago, Cameron noted how many Britons were asking, “Why can’t we just have what we voted to join — a common market?” Well, that was what they were told they were joining. But what the U.K. actually signed up for was very different — and infinitely less benign.

Yes, “common market” was indeed what Brits used to call that mysterious structure run out of Brussels, but that was a label that concealed more than it explained. In joining what were then more accurately known as the European Communities, Britain had committed itself not only to a trade pact, but also to ever closer union. And that was a project that had been grinding on for a long time. The institutional machinery was already in place to ensure that the integration process — and with it the continuous and irreversible transfer of powers away from national democracies — only moved forward.

And that has continued. The pace may not have been certain, but the direction always was. The changes that David Cameron talked about in 2013 (and before then) were not mere technicalities. They were aimed at the essence of what the European Union, the intended graveyard of the nation-state, was supposed to be. The fact that Cameron wanted quite a few of these changes to be for the benefit of all the EU’s members made things worse still. They were not only a challenge to Brussels but to the euro-fundamentalist political class across a wide swathe of the EU. To repeat myself: The idea that Cameron would secure the unanimous agreement of Britain’s European “partners” to this (because that’s what would, under EU rules, be required) was nonsense.

Cameron, no fool, must have known this, but he was playing a different game. The referendum had essentially been forced on him by the threat to the Tories posed by UKIP’s euroskeptic insurgency. The “renegotiation” would buy valuable time to safely (fingers crossed!) see him through the 2015 election. If it turned out to be a dud, well, he would sort out the problem then.

And a dud is what it has turned out to be

One Tory MP described the proposed deal as “a slap in the face for Britain.” More like a punch, I’d say, made more vicious by the contempt for the electorate with which it was landed: “Hand on heart,” boasted Cameron, “I have delivered the commitments made in my manifesto.” Hand on heart . . . 

Meanwhile, he did his best to stifle dissent within a Conservative party in which many were startled by Cameron’s interpretation of what they had naïvely believed was their manifesto, too.

Speaking in the House of Commons, another Conservative MP, Steve Baker, commented that the deal looked and smelt “funny.” “It might be superficially shiny on the outside, but poke it and it’s soft in the middle.” He asked the prime minister whether he would admit to having “been reduced to polishing poo?”

Cameron wouldn’t, but, dung or not, his renegotiation was always going to be a dud. Bit by bit, he had dropped or diluted his demands. The grand constitutional rearrangements were shelved and the EU’s job-destroying social legislation was left untouched. The tough talk of regaining at least some meaningful veto rights over immigration into the U.K. from elsewhere in the EU dwindled (mostly) into snarling about welfare benefits, a telling retreat. The surge of EU migrants into the U.K. (currently running at a net 180,000 people per year) has done much to fuel British euroskepticism, but Cameron was compelled to accept that he could only nibble at its edges. The free movement of people within the EU is one of the union’s fundamental principles: It wasn’t something that was going to be bartered away.

Cameron ended up asking for little. He will receive less. Thus, so far as benefits are concerned, his proposed scaling back of “in-work” benefits for EU migrants has itself been scaled back. Even that only kicks in if Britain applies an “emergency brake” in the event of undue pressure on public services or the welfare system. And who decides whether the conditions for applying that emergency brake have been met? The EU Commission. Ah.

To be fair, the Commission has said that those conditions are met in Britain — for now.

Wait, there’s more.

The definition of those EU citizens that the U.K. can turn away on the grounds that they represent a “present” threat to public policy or security will be broadened. That’s a welcome change, but it does nothing to address the way European human-rights legislation — all too often stretched beyond reasonable interpretation — can stand in the way of the deportation of equally undesirable non-EUcitizens. Cameron once undertook to tackle this, too. (No matter that doing anything about it was — for reasons too complicated to go into here — a legal impossibility as long as Britain remained within the EU.) He gave up on that as well.

Meanwhile, the introduction of a “red card” system that would, under certain circumstances, allow national parliaments to block EU legislation is one of the few “constitutional” reforms to survive, but it would require the support of another 14 national parliaments before it could be played. The chances of that ever happening are, to say the least, remote.

Another area of British concern has been that the nine EU countries — including the U.K. — not in the euro zone might be ganged up upon by the 19 who are. So, if enough of the nine (it’s not indicated how many) get together, they will be allowed to give their “reasoned objection” to measures designed to integrate the euro zone further. How kind! These objections will then be “discuss[ed]” with a view to finding a “satisfactory solution.” And if that can’t be found, well, silence.

More helpfully, it’s confirmed that Britain will not have to contribute to future euro-zone bailouts, and there will be some protections for Britain’s financial sector from euro-zone regulators. There will also be a prohibition against discrimination against individuals and entities based on the fact that the member-state where they are established has not adopted the single currency, something that will, again, please the City.

Then there’s “ever closer union,” that lethal ratchet. Cameron has been handed a few words, of limited legal consequence, to the effect that the U.K. “is not committed to further political integration into the European Union,” whatever that might mean. But nothing direct is said about the European Court and its habit of interpreting EU law in a way that takes “ever closer union” as a guiding principle. This matters: In the event of a conflict between European law and the law of any member state (including Britain’s), European law prevails. As long as the EU is the EU, that, too, is not going to change.

Is the deal even binding? At the moment it’s only a draft. There will be more bargaining to come, but this proposal, or something close to it, will probably be agreed to by all the EU’s leaders, conceivably as early as next week. Once that’s happened, it can (arguably) be reversed only by a unanimous vote. Once filed with the United Nations, it is (arguably) also binding under international law.

Arguably: With the EU the devil is always in the details, and the law in this area is decidedly murky. The deal will commit the EU’s leadership to amend the EU’s secondary legislation to reflect what has been agreed, a procedure that will give the EU’s (reliably euro-fundamentalist) parliament an opportunity to weigh in. And if it declines to sign off on the deal, what then? After all, the British will have already voted.

Tusk also accepts that the EU treaties may “possibly” need amending at some (unspecified) point to reflect “a few elements” in the proposed deal. Forget that “possibly.” The word is “certainly,” and the amendments may have to cover more than a “few” elements. Amending the treaty is a lengthy, rarely straightforward business, requiring the agreement of all 28 member-states. If that’s not forthcoming — if a parliament votes it down, say, or a referendum gets in the way — what then? It’s by no means clear that Tusk’s agreement to agree would have the legal force that he and Cameron claim. Again, this would take place after (maybe years after) the British referendum, which may take place as early as June.

So, what’s a Brit to think? Well, even on the most favorable construction, the deal does next to nothing to restore Britain’s control over its borders, next to nothing to return any powers to its parliament, next to nothing to extricate Britain from the jaws of “ever closer union,” and nothing at all to restore supremacy to its courts. Adding insult to injury, what’s been thrown the country’s way are, for the most part, not even scraps but promises of scraps, promises that may well not be binding.

Apart from that, it’s a great deal. Hand on heart.

Cameron Cornered

The Weekly Standard, June 23, 2014

A time bomb does not have to be elegant; it just has to be lethal, primed, and in the right place when the moment comes. Britain’s next general election is set for May 7, 2015. That is likely the day when David Cameron will pay the full price for failing to have defused the revolt on his right.

Britain’s Euroskeptic U.K. Independence party (UKIP) is a poorly run protean mess, unhealthily dependent on the wit, zest, and charisma of its leader, Nigel Farage. And yet in the spirit of Farage (who has survived a plane crash, cancer, and being hit by a VW Beetle), UKIP keeps confounding those who so eagerly draft and redraft its obituary.

The run-up to the election to the European parliament in May was not the party’s most glorious stretch. Sustained battering by mainstream media and mainstream parties—much of it galvanized by UKIP’s heretical emphasis on immigration control—took a toll, and was reinforced by campaign missteps (Google “steel band,” “Croydon,” and “UKIP” for one notably ludicrous instance), including a pre-election radio interview of Farage that went so badly that his spin doctor tried—on air—to bring it to a close.

Less than a week after that interview, Britons went to the ballot box, voting both in the EU poll and, in some regions, local elections too. Results for the latter were counted first. UKIP took 16.5 percent of the popular vote, down from the remarkable 23 percent the party had scored the preceding year, but a reasonable tally considering that these elections were held in less UKIP-friendly territory than in 2013.

The election for the European parliament, however, involved the whole country, and UKIP topped the poll with 27.5 percent, well up from the 16.5 percent it secured in the 2009 EU vote. UKIP may have been assisted by a low turnout (34 percent), but it nonetheless became the first party other than Labour or Conservative to win a national election in over a century. Labour had to make do with regaining (and more) the ground it had lost in 2009 (a Labour government had been presiding over Britain’s slice of the financial crisis), boosting its score from 15.7 percent to 25.4 percent. The Conservatives slumped from first to third place with 23.9 percent. Their coalition partners, the hopelessly Europhile Liberal Democrats, saw their vote cut by roughly half and their team of EU parliament members reduced from 11 to 1, a richly deserved fate marred only by its incompleteness.

But a few days later UKIP ran into a reminder that one barrier remains unbroken. On June 5, it failed yet again to win a seat in the House of Commons. On paper, the constituency—Newark, a pleasant Conservative-voting market town unlikely to be confused with its namesake in New Jersey—looked promising. UKIP had done well there in local elections in 2013 and had headed the poll in that part of Britain in the EU vote. Helping still further, Newark’s (robustly right-wing) Tory MP had just resigned following a lobbying scandal that fit neatly into the UKIP narrative of establishment misrule. Typically, UKIP did not make the most of its opportunity. Perhaps tellingly, Farage opted not to run. Instead the party chose as its candidate a (robustly right-wing) septuagenarian member of the European parliament all too easy to caricature as UKIP at its most primitive.

The result was far from disgraceful: UKIP took over a quarter of the vote, up from the 3 percent or so its candidate managed in 2010. This was despite a concentrated Tory blitz (party workers, activists, and MPs by the hundred were shipped into Newark) that a hollowed-out Conservative party could not hope to reproduce on the national scale that a general election would require. Nevertheless UKIP’s second place (the Tory candidate romped home) meant that the party still had no MPs, a failing frequently cited as a mark of UKIP’s fundamental lack of seriousness. This was only underlined by the convivial Farage’s decision to spend the day before the Newark vote at a tourism conference in Malta. And, yes, he was photographed there in the early hours with a blonde who was not Mrs. Farage. There was a respectable explanation, but .  .  .

Bellowing at Brussels and, for that matter, 10 Downing Street is an unsurprising response to both EU overreach and the metropolitan liberalism of David Cameron’s government. There are numerous infuriated traditionally Conservative supporters who are prepared to “lend” a vote to UKIP in European and, increasingly, local elections, but will balk at doing anything that risks helping “Red Ed” Miliband’s unsettlingly left-wing Labour party into government.

As they fully understand, voting for UKIP could easily do just that. Under Britain’s first-past-the-post voting system, a protest vote can prove expensive. There’s good evidence to suggest that UKIP ballots (around 3 percent of the total) cost the Tories an absolute majority in the 2010 general election. With UKIP now attracting growing numbers of former Labour voters, the math is trickier than it was, but a higher UKIP percentage would undoubtedly do even greater damage to the Conservatives in 2015.

Making the choice sharper still, David Cameron has committed to an in/out referendum on Britain’s EU membership if he is reelected. Euroskeptics ought to remain, well, skeptical about this, not least because Cameron (a politician too unimaginative to contemplate a breach with Brussels) will try to gull Brits into the pro-EU camp with largely meaningless “concessions” allegedly wrung from the U.K.’s European partners. And he will probably succeed, meaning that Britain’s long European nightmare will continue. On the other hand, Cameron’s referendum would represent a chance, however remote, of a withdrawal, which is better than what Brussels-friendly Labour has on offer: nothing.

And right-of-center voters have another reason to be wary of voting for UKIP next year. “Europe” has evolved as an encapsulation of the broader discontent that many Tories (or former Tories) feel for Cameron’s mushy brand of conservatism, a discontent brilliantly exploited by Farage, playing Mrs. Thatcher’s finest tunes and meaning it. That has taken him a long way. The UKIP leader’s conundrum now is somewhat similar, ironically, to that faced by Cameron a little under a decade ago. Modern Britain is no longer the country that voted (often grudgingly) for the Iron Lady. Cameron tried to deal with that change by dragging the Conservative party to the center, calculating that the Tory right had nowhere else to go. Had it not been for Nigel Farage he might have gotten away with it.

The not unrelated difficulty for Farage is that he has harvested about as much of the right as he can, and thanks to the brutal math of first-past-the-post, that will not be enough to deliver the MPs to make the breakthrough he needs. So UKIP’s leader has attempted to widen his support by reaching out to what he has described as “patriotic old Labour” (put less diplomatically, the white working class), using immigration (Britain has received huge numbers of immigrants from elsewhere in the EU, immigrants that under EU law it is powerless to turn away) as the bridge to get there.

This has been a success, but it has involved downplaying UKIP’s earlier free market vim. The evolution of “red UKIP” is less of a problem for the party’s Conservative refugees than some of UKIP’s intellectual cheerleaders might imagine: Standing up for socialized medicine and generous state pensions plays pretty well with an older, often far from affluent crowd. But throw in some other leftish sub-currents, add the harsher edge to the party’s immigration rhetoric, and subtract some Thatcherite grace notes (talk of a flat tax has, for example, disappeared), and it becomes easy to suspect that a good number (especially on the upscale side of the social divide) of UKIP’s once-Conservative or libertarian-inclined voters will return to the Tory fold, particularly with Ed dread to push them there.

But neither this, nor the unappealing Miliband’s failure to click with the wider British electorate, nor the U.K.’s improving economic performance is likely to save Cameron. Britain’s embarrassingly outdated constituency boundaries favor Labour, which only has to win some 35 percent of the national vote to prevail. With the Liberal Democrats floundering, that modest target ought to be one Labour can hit despite recent stumbles in the opinion polls. UKIP meanwhile can expect to win few (if any) actual MPs once the general election comes round, but the party’s share of the poll will not sink back to that 3 percent grabbed by UKIP in 2010: UKIP—and the loyalty it can expect—is now entrenched too deep for that. And it is still the Conservative party that will miss its defectors most. At this late stage, it’s not clear what the Tories can do to entice enough of them back in time.

A Feast of Fools

National Review Online, May 27, 2014

Europe has long played host to strange, exuberant celebrations, from Roman Saturnalia to medieval Feasts of Fools to the bean-feasts of old Twelfth Night, when hierarchy was upended and decorum trashed. Master played slave, slave played master, and cook pretended to be king. But when the festivities ended, all was as before. Master and slave, cook and king returned to their stations. Order was restored, strengthened, and tacitly affirmed by a brief period of license that began with its end already agreed.

And that brings me to the elections to the EU parliament. These have always been a pastiche of democracy, rendered absurd by the absence of a European demos. Europe’s voters have always understood that their role in these elections was to perform as extras in a carefully choreographed drama, pay for the whole thing, pretend it was real, and then go away. A good number decided that they would rather not show up at all. There is no European nation, so why vote as if there was?

Back in 1979, the turnout for the first direct elections to the parliament was 61.99 percent. It then fell for each of the next six, reaching 43 percent in 2009. At the time of writing, the turnout for 2014 is calculated at 43.1 percent, an improvement desperately described as “historic” by one of the parliament’s spokesmen. If it was, it was only historic in the depth of the indifference that 43.1 percent represented. The EU parliament is far more powerful than it was in the past, and the catastrophe wrought by the euro has brought the EU to the center of European political debate as never before. That ought to have been worth more than an extra tenth of a percentage point. That it wasn’t says everything.

From the perspective of Brussels, this year’s show must appear to have gotten a little out of hand. An alarming number of the extras ignored their lines and noisily rewrote the script. They did so in ways too varied to list them all. Nevertheless, there were some standouts.

Over in the Sceptic Isle, Nigel Farage’s UKIP swept to the top of the poll with 27.5 percent, the first time for more than a century that a party that was neither Labour nor Conservative had prevailed in a nationwide contest. This was despite an unprecedented battering by the media and the other political parties and, it has to be said, a few own goals.

Across the English Channel, France’s Front National, a pariah for generations, won with 25 percent. In Denmark, the (somewhat) UKIP-like Danish People’s party took the top prize with 26.7 percent, and in Hungary, the conservative-nationalist Fidesz, the ruling party that Brussels most likes to hate, romped home with over half the vote, while the sinister Jobbik clung to 14.3 percent of the poll. That was a higher score than that achieved by the neo-Nazis of Greece’s Golden Dawn, who had to make do with 9.4 percent, not a bad haul nonetheless, considering that its leader and a number of its MPs are in jail. The gold medal in Greece meanwhile was grabbed by the far-left Syriza, with 26.6 percent, a result that could point to a Syriza victory at the next general election and ought to alarm Greece’s creditors. A win by Syriza in the EU elections would, its leader explained shortly before the vote, be a message to Greece’s current government “to take the memorandums [setting out the terms under which Greece received its bailouts], take the troika [the EU Commission, the European Central Bank, and the IMF, which supervise the austerity program], and go.”

And Syriza’s language found an echo in crisis-struck Spain. Establishment parties of center-left and center-right saw sharp declines in their support. Podemos, a brand-new party of the far left, and an offshoot of sorts of the anti-austerity Indignados protests, came from nowhere to take 8 percent of the vote. We will work, said its leader, “together with other partners from southern Europe to say that we don’t want to be a colony of Germany and the troika,” words that should make German taxpayers shudder.

Still, that vulnerable constituency finally has proper representation in the European parliament in the form of a young, pro-EU but anti-euro party, the center-right Alternative für Deutschland, which took 7 percent of the vote. It remains to be seen whether AfD’s success will be enough of a warning shot to stop Chancellor Merkel from selling her country down the river in the event of a revolt against austerity in the periphery and now, quite possibly, France. Probably not, if I had to guess.

Not everything went badly for those in charge in Brussels. In two “creditor” nations, Finland and the Netherlands, prominent Euroskeptic parties did far less well than expected, while in Italy comedian Beppe Grillo’s populist, and not always coherent, Five Star Movement was eclipsed by the center-left PD, now led by the charismatic Matteo Renzi, its supposedly Blair-like (be warned, Italy) new prime minister. That said, the Grillini still managed to account for 21.15 percent of the votes cast. It may be too soon to say that they have peaked.

But Brussels does not have to look as far as Rome for comfort. To start with, the low turnout almost certainly exaggerated the Euroskeptic portion of the vote when compared with the likely outcome in national elections. To be sure, a reluctance to turn up at the polling station may not show much engagement with the European project and that will distress more idealistic Eurocrats. But their more cynical counterparts know very well that apathy is not only better than outright opposition, but is, for the most part, also an ally. Large elements of the superstate-in-waiting have been able to be put in place only thanks to the unwillingness or inability of the electorate to understand where the often complex, often deliberately obscure process of European construction will lead. That still seems unlikely to change.

More than that, the European Parliament will continue to be a Euro-federalist redoubt. As José Manuel Barroso, the former Maoist who is now the EU’s top bureaucrat, announced on Sunday night, “The political forces represented in the European Commission have overall won once again. . . . They share a fundamental consensus for Europe that should now be reinforced.”

The Open Europe think tank has calculated that anti-EU and anti-establishment parties are “on course to win 229 out of 751 seats in the new European Parliament (30.5%), up from 164 out of 766 seats in the current parliament (21.4%).” That’s impressive, but in itself it is not enough to change anything. The parliament will be likely run by some sort of coalition of the center-left and -right, perhaps with an added Green tinge to make it all the more sickening. That won’t be much of a change. In an earlier piece of research, Open Europe noted that “the center-right European People’s Party (EPP) and center-left Socialist and Democrat (S&D) party families voted the same way 74% of the time in the 2009-14 parliament.” A de facto coalition will become de jure, that’s all. And its preferred approach will continue to be “more Europe” buttressed even more than before by the paranoid argument, and often paranoid belief, that Euroskepticism is some sort of fascism. After all, look at that Marine Le Pen.

The outsider parties not only lack the numbers to challenge this consensus, they lack the cohesion to do so. That reflects the fact that they spring from far more authentic — and thus more diverse — national political traditions than the unaccountable nothingness of the acronyms now in charge. The differences between the Euroskeptic parties and the nations they spring from mean that even a marriage of convenience between them (the parliament’s rules favor groupings of a certain breadth and size) can be fraught with danger. A mooted association with Le Pen’s Front National proved very damaging for Geert Wilders in the Netherlands and would be poison for Nigel Farage. The best hope is that the Euroskeptics can at least cast enough light on the workings of the parliament and the rest of the Brussels machine to stir up yet more discontent, but that will take time, perseverance, and a media that is willing to pay attention. Don’t hold your breath.

That’s not to deny that there will be talk of reform, and maybe even talk of the transfer of some power away from Brussels. There will be talk, plenty of it, but its main function will be to mask the whirring of the engine of ever-closer union, an engine that continues to drive integration along whatever the voters may say. To change that will take a revolt of the centrist parties in their domestic legislatures, provoked, perhaps, by the reality of the economic grind that continues to lie ahead and by fear of the political parties that may someday be strong enough to take advantage of it.

Until then, well, clear up the empty bottles; take down the balloons and bunting. È finita la commedia: Those in charge are back in charge, as, indeed, they always were.

City Under Siege

The Weekly Standard, July 1, 2013

Take a visit to the cyber-belly of the beast, to a website run by the European Commission, the EU’s bureaucratic core, and you will be told that “the financial sector was a major cause of the [economic] crisis and received substantial government support.” Soon it will be payback time, in the form of Europe’s new Financial Transaction Tax (FTT), set to be levied at a rate of 0.1 percent on equity and debt transactions, and 0.01 percent on trades in derivatives. It will ensure that the financial sector “makes a fair and substantial contribution to public finances.”

We’ll see. This new “contribution,” potentially much more onerous than those fragments of a percent suggest, may or may not be substantial (taxes of this type have a record of backfiring), but the revenues predicted by the commission ($45 billion or so, but the math is fuzzy) could be eclipsed by the punch that the tax delivers to economic growth.

Whether the FTT is “fair” is fuzzier still. That’s because the real objectives of the tax​—​to be introduced by 11 eurozone countries in 2014​—​have little to do with that. To start with, the FTT is about​—​dread word​—​the narrative. Problems within the banks were the immediate cause of the crisis​—​it’s not called the financial crisis for nothing​—​but working out what caused those problems is a messier matter altogether. The number of plausible suspects rivals the haul on Agatha Christie’s Orient Express. Prominent among them is something for which the commission bears a great deal of responsibility​—​the euro, a reckless, politically driven piece of financial engineering that has outdone the worst of Wall Street’s mad science. With the single currency still the focus of potentially dangerous debate, it makes sense to keep attention focused on fat cat bankers and away from Brussels’s more discreet architects of financial destruction. Similar thinking helps explain why​—​when the euro’s troubles grew too big to ignore​—​there was so much talk of dodgy markets and dark Anglo-Saxon plotting.

Sadly, in a way, not all of this was​—​or is​—​deliberate disinformation. Much of continental Europe’s leadership class​—​across the political spectrum​—​distrusts “financial capitalism” of the Anglo-American kind, a venerable suspicion that appeared to have been vindicated by the fiascos of 2008. Why there is this distrust is a topic for another time​—​Roman Catholicism, socialism, and the twists of history have all played their parts​—​but that it exists is undeniable. The idea that free markets are the least bad way of allocating resources has limited appeal in a political culture still in thrall to the notion that some authority somewhere knows best, a belief that remains the essence of what the EU stands for. This is more than a matter of philosophical disagreement. So far as Brussels is concerned, Anglo-Saxon finance is not just objectionable, it’s in the way.

The euro was an attempt to override the market. A nation’s currency is a measure of its relative economic performance. If its value falls that’s a signal to investors and, in time, a chance to restore international competitiveness. By abandoning marks, francs, lire, and all the rest, the creators of the currency union junked a useful economic tool, replacing the collective sense of the market with crude administrative fiat. France was Germany was Portugal, and that was that.

As millions of jobless Europeans know, the market bit back. But the instinct of those managing the currency union was not to revert to market discipline, but to move farther away from it. There were bans on the short-selling of certain securities, attacks on credit ratings agencies that were at last telling some inconvenient truths, and, crucially, a vow by European Central Bank president Mario Draghi to do “whatever it takes” to save the euro, a declaration buttressed by the prospect of significant intervention in the sovereign bond market. Markets are far from perfect, and some of what has been done can be justified on pragmatic grounds, but it’s not difficult to notice the direction of a broader ideological current, one that is not good news for the City​—​London’s Wall Street​—​or, indeed, American financial firms interested in European business.

That current is sweeping an increasingly burdensome, increasingly made-in-Brussels regulatory regime, expensive and rigid, into the City and beyond. Much of it is profoundly antithetical to the intuitive, principles-based, flexible, and often self-regulatory approach that has done so much to transform Britain’s financial sector into a world-beating business. That some of these rules​—​such as the new Alternative Investment Fund Managers Directive​—​will (effectively) weigh even more heavily on enterprises headquartered outside the EU is bound to damage London’s status as a global financial entrepôt, diverting business beyond the reach of Brussels.

The commission doesn’t appear to be particularly concerned where that business goes. In fact, it would probably like much of it to go away altogether. Many of Britain’s continental partners agree. And jealousy is only a part of it. The inherently unruly (markets are like that) and, to them, morally suspect financial sector is an obstacle to the ideal of a technocratic, tightly controlled Europe. Meanwhile the “island sewer” (to quote a deputy director of the supposedly serious El País, Spain’s highest-circulation newspaper) acts as a low-tax, lucrative lure for some of the continent’s best and brightest: some 300,000 to 400,000 French citizens now live in the U.K., mainly in London. Perhaps most annoyingly of all, financial services’ large contribution to the U.K.’s ramshackle economy (directly and indirectly perhaps at least 14 percent of GDP, and a badly needed export earner) helps fund Britain’s fondness for going its own way, an independent-mindedness that its European partners could do without.

But if the pie is to be smaller, that doesn’t mean that those partners don’t want a larger slice of it. National rivalries still flourish beneath that shared EU flag. The mechanism of “ever closer union” is not infrequently used by one member-state against another. It is, of course, only a coincidence that the (Frankfurt-based) European Central Bank is seeking to introduce rules that would force the relocation of clearing houses that handle euro-denominated instruments (in any significant quantity) out of London into the eurozone, to Paris, say, or, uh, Frankfurt. The U.K. is suing to prevent this, but if the currency union deepens, or banking union comes into being, there will be more of the same to come.

Taken as a whole, Europe’s financial sector will shrink further​—​even after the bloodletting of the last few years. London, as its hub, is bearing, and will continue to bear, the brunt. Jobs in the City have fallen by roughly a third and now stand at a 20-year low. In part this is natural, the product both of hard times and the necessary reconnection of the financial sector to economic reality. In part too it’s a matter of mathematics. Tougher capital requirements and more restrictive limitations on leverage (and, possibly, areas of business) are a reasonable response to some of the disasters of recent years, but they will make much of the banking sector less profitable than in the mirage years, and that’s before we begin to factor in the costs of Brussels’s wider regulatory onslaught.

The FTT adds both further insult and injury. The belated realization that the tax may be even more destructive than its supporters intended (the governor of the Bank of France has warned of the damage it could do to the Frenchfinancial sector) may mean that it will be diluted prior to its planned introduction, but two key features​—​some targeting of trading volumes and extraterritoriality​—​will remain, and both will hurt London disproportionately. The extraterritoriality is particularly galling. A trade will bear the tax even if only one counterparty is in the FTT-zone, and so will a transaction where both counterparties are outside the FTT-zone (in London and New York, say) but trading a security (a Peugeot share, for example) where the issuer is based within it. The U.K. and the United States will be acting as the collectors of a tax that hurts one of their key industries​—​and they won’t get a penny for their pains.

As if all that were not enough, the intervention of Europe’s reliably authoritarian parliament means that new caps on bonuses have recently been approved. The bonuses of bankers classified as “material risk-takers” (including anyone who earns over $660,000 a year) will be capped at one times salary, or two times with the approval of a supermajority of shareholders​—​an arbitrary diktat at odds with more subtly designed measures preferred by the U.K. The possibility that similar limits may be imposed on asset management firms (a group that received no bailouts from the European taxpayer) gave the lie to the never convincing argument that these changes are about risk control. Rather, like the Swiss referendum in March that also imposed restrictions on executive pay, they are both an exercise in collective punishment and a manifestation of the neo-egalitarianism growing on either side of the Atlantic. There is something else at play. Members of the European parliament see themselves as the continent’s elite (check out the deeply discounted tax rates that most of them pay), the vanguard of a new Europe. Earning so much less than those arrogant, unnecessary bankers maddens them: The chance to put a brake on financial sector pay is difficult to resist.

That’s more bad news for the City. The cap will​—​surprise​—​hit London hardest (that’s where most of the EU’s “material risk-takers” are to be found) and will make it a less hospitable place for the type of international business that could just as easily be located in New York, Hong Kong, or Zurich. Not only that, mandating less flexible wage structures will discourage hiring, the last thing that London needs now. And if these changes do end up crimping total compensation, that will be a blow to Britain’s cash-strapped treasury, long accustomed to raking in a good bit of that income, among other large “contributions” (to use that fashionable word) from the financial sector.

And so British prime minister David Cameron finds himself in another European swamp. All he can do about the FTT’s extraterritorial reach is protest (the United States is also objecting) and maintain a fingers-crossed legal challenge. He could (very) arguably have vetoed the bonus cap under the Luxembourg compromise, a severely eroded understanding dating to 1966, which might still permit a veto in defense of a vital national interest even where no veto power formally exists. That would have been a long shot, but Cameron didn’t even attempt it. Going to the mat “against Brussels” in defense of bankers’ bonuses would have played no better in euroskeptic Britain than anywhere else.

But one important, and generally Conservative, section of the electorate might have supported him. Traditionally nervous about political uncertainty and understandably wary about being cut off from European markets, the City’s grandees have long endorsed​—​if on occasion through gritted teeth​—​British membership in the EU. That’s not going to change quite yet, but some of them must be beginning to see that staying in an EU fixed on its current course could well be riskier than taking their chances outside. Whatever he is now claiming, Cameron is not going to be able to nudge the EU in a different direction, and he does not have the imagination to see that Britain would be better off out. Sooner or later, the City will have to confront the fact that if the EU is the problem, Cameron is not the answer.

A sign that it may be starting to was a high-profile event hosted last month by London hedge funder Crispin Odey and designed to introduce Nigel Farage, the leader of the uncompromisingly Euroskeptic U.K. Independence party, and a former City trader himself, to financial types. A long-term and generous, if sometimes critical, member of the Conservative party, Odey has not switched his support to UKIP, but this looked a lot like a warning shot.

Cameron would do well to pay attention. The 3 percent scored by UKIP (which up until now has principally drawn its support from the right) in the 2010 general election cost his Tories their chance of an absolute majority. UKIP is now polling in the mid-teens or higher, a feat it has managed on a shoestring. If UKIP can begin to attract City money, and the credibility that can come with it .  .  .

It’s not easy being David Cameron.

An English Spring?

National Review Online, May 13, 2013

UKIP Conference, Birmingham, September 2012 © Andrew Stuttaford

They are still there, the English of an older England, frequently overlooked, frequently looked down upon, stubbornly hitched to an unruly history too grand just to be packed away.

On May 2, in local elections in a large swath of England (and a small slice of Wales), a good number of them did what the English — a less genteel lot than Masterpiece Theatre might suggest — do when provoked too far: They pushed back hard, casting their votes for the United Kingdom Independence party (UKIP), an eccentric homebrew of euroskepticism, “commonsense” conservatism, and anti-establishment mutiny.

Let’s get some caveats out of the way. Local elections halfway through the life of a parliament (the next general election is due in 2015) have long been used to protest against whoever’s in charge, and the scale of that protest is generally exaggerated by a low turnout. The angry vote. The turnout this time was some 31 percent, not so different from the tally (35 percent) for Britain’s last elections to the EU parliament in 2009, another contest in which UKIP, not so coincidentally, scored very well.

On May 2, this understaffed (a dozen paid employees in the U.K.), underspent, under-organized party won 147 of the roughly 2,300 seats that were up for grabs, compared with, um, eight in 2009, and took in around 23 percent of the vote, up from, well, no one was really counting last time round. It was (very) arguably the most sizeable surge by an outsider party since the Normans unexpectedly entered government in 1066. Labour topped the popular vote with 29 percent, the Conservatives followed with 25 percent, and their Liberal Democratic coalition partners trailed with 14 percent.

Now some more caveats: There were no elections in either Scotland — where voters dance to a very different tune — or the greater part of Labour-dominated Wales, or in most of England’s larger cities. This was an electorate that skewed right, something that helps explain the discrepancy between national polls (where UKIP has been scoring, not unimpressively, in the low-to-middle double digits) and the result of the May 2 vote.

And yet, something is going on.

The turbulent years that followed UKIP’s founding in 1993 are simple enough to decode: There’s the crankiness of obsessives at odds with conventional wisdom, and the infighting (long a UKIP trademark) that marks countless clusters of the opinionated. All the same, it is a measure of British unhappiness with Brussels that this odd little group took 7 percent of the poll in the 1999 elections to the EU parliament, when it was little more than the flag for an idea that no “respectable” party would embrace: Britain’s exit from the EU.

Five years on, UKIP had made little progress on the domestic front, but its share of the British vote in the 2004 elections for the EU parliament rose to 16 percent. Glory was followed by farce, a regular presence in the UKIP story, when one of its new MEPs and easily its most prominent face, a former Labour MP turned talk-show host, attempted to take over the leadership in a putsch that ultimately failed. He then quit the party. The voters were more loyal. In the next EU elections (in 2009), the 16 percent stuck with the only party willing to respond fully to the discontent that the supposedly euroskeptic Tories were too nervous to harness.

Much-derided Conservative “splits” over the EU (in reality a genuinely principled debate) had left the Tories with a reputation for feuding that proved to be electoral poison for the better part of two decades. This was made all the more deadly by the way that Tory unease over the EU was used by the Conservative party’s opponents to reinforce its reputation as an asylum for reactionaries with no place in the bright new Britain that Tony Blair was building. David Cameron had to do away with that caricature if he was to have a chance of returning the Tories to power. With little subtlety and some success, that’s just what he did. Climate change was in; “banging on about Europe” was out. As for UKIP, they were “fruitcakes and loonies and closet racists, mostly,” a dishonest and condescending jibe that played well — as it was designed to — with Britain’s metropolitan opinion-formers, but came to symbolize Tory carelessness with a right wing that, Cameron calculated, had nowhere else to go.

But that was before prolonged economic crisis drained the public’s confidence in a political class long known to be out of touch, but now seen to be out of its depth. The euro’s long agony and the EU’s increasingly  overt evolution into a nascent superstate have only helped reinforce the idea that those fruitcakes might have a few things right after all.

Britain has never been a hotbed of enthusiasm for the Brussels project, but it is striking to see some recent polls showing a majority in favor of U.K. withdrawal from the EU, a finding almost unthinkable just a few years ago. Tough times can force voters to confront reality, however uncomfortable. And in modern Britain there may be less to keep them reined in than in the past. Many Brits have become alienated from their country’s political process (a process that has, of course, been drained of much of its meaning by the intrusions of Brussels), an alienation bolstered by their all-too-justified suspicion of elite consensus, most strikingly, perhaps, in the area of immigration. UKIP’s much tougher line on immigration is a major element in its support.

Immigration has been a contentious topic in the U.K., as elsewhere in Europe, for over 50 years, but there is now a real sense that Britain has lost control of its borders, not least as a result of EU rules. With very little in the way of genuine popular consent, an island nation marked by only gentle shifts in its ethnic balance for centuries is being radically and rapidly transformed by an influx that accelerated dramatically during the Blair years. For a long time, to express much more than the faintest concern over this was to risk being dubbed, well, to recycle an insult, a “closet racist” or worse. An academic study splashed across the British press shortly before the May elections predicted that the “white British” would become a minority of the population in the second half of this century, a status that they have lately achieved in London. Extrapolation can be an extremely unreliable tool, but data such as this help explain why many Britons believe that there has been too much change too soon.

The U.K. is not a country familiar with populist revolt. Both the Labour and Conservative parties have traditionally been broad enough churches to accommodate within their ranks populist strains of Left and Right respectively. Since the Blair and Cameron modernizations, that may no longer be so true as it was. Even so, any insurgent party in Britain still has to contend with another formidable obstacle: the electoral system. It’s not by chance that, until now, UKIP had notched up real success only in EU elections, which operate under a system of proportional representation. Domestically, elections are first-past-the-post, a set-up that squeezes smaller parties, and one that presented euroskeptics with a very specific problem. Voting for UKIP rather than the mildly euroskeptic Tories risks handing victory to the Conservatives’ far more europhile rivals on the left. UKIP took only 3 percent of the vote in the 2010 general election, but even that was enough to cost the Conservatives some 20 seats and a clear majority. An even better UKIP result  in 2015 will almost certainly hand the keys of 10 Downing Street to Labour, with consequences that many potential UKIP sympathizers would detest.

Persuading them to risk voting for UKIP nonetheless is going to take more than the accumulated discontents of recent years, but if anyone can pull that off, it will be Nigel Farage, UKIP’s leader, who has emerged as one of the most effective politicians Britain has seen for a long time, and without whom the result of May 2 would have been an impossibility.

Comes the hour, crumbles the euro, crashes the economy, comes the man. A smoker who enjoys a drink or three, Farage is a charmer and a chancer, an ebullient and eloquent speaker with a quick wit, a nice line in self-deprecatory humor, and a public persona that is the jaunty, Jack-the-Lad antithesis of Britain’s increasingly pharisaical political class. Farage can do anger when he has to, but he is a revolutionary who does not take himself too seriously. A clever operator, perhaps, but a back-of-the-envelope administrator, reassuringly contradictory qualities that have only added to his subversive appeal. As the Daily Telegraph’s Tim Stanley put it, people voted for UKIP “partly out of anger and partly for a laugh.” It was, he concluded, “a very British revolution.”

More a warning shot than a revolution, I reckon, and distinctly more English than British. But, whatever the future holds, the next few months are likely to be tricky for UKIP, which will now find itself subject to closer scrutiny than ever before. That may prove an uncomfortable experience for some of its newly elected councilors, political novices who may find themselves hopelessly out of their depth or burdened with résumés that won’t look so good under the media microscope. Even in the run-up to the election, it was evident that UKIP did not have the resources to properly screen its candidates. There will be more embarrassments to come.

Meanwhile the party will keep working on building its support from the bottom up, local election by local election, trying to establish the grassroots networks without which it has little chance of winning many (or any) seats in the Westminster parliament, playing the retail politics — opposition to a contentious high-speed railway here or an unwanted wind farm there — that is already contributing to UKIP’s appeal. And the outreach to what Farage often refers to as “patriotic old Labour” will continue. That’s an effort that is already coloring the agenda of a self-described libertarian party that has always had its (to return to that lazy adjective) populist elements (the emphasis on immigration control and law and order, say, and, more recently, opposition to same-sex marriage) and has now dropped its earlier commitment to a flat tax that allowed it to be smeared as too soft on the rich. There will be further nods in a leftward, statist direction, as UKIP’s mood music — that’s the best way to describe its program — shifts. It may be less of stretch than might be assumed. Even some of the former Tory voters who now support UKIP are perhaps better understood here in the U.S. as being (very) roughly equivalent to the Reagan Democrats of old, with all that that entails.

In May 2014, there will be new EU parliament elections, a contest in which on current form UKIP could possibly come top, boosting its momentum still further. But for now attention will revert to the impact that the party’s surge will have on the Tories. The results of the May 2 vote contained scraps of bad news for Labour and the Liberal Democrats, but it’s the Conservatives who are looking at catastrophe in the 2015 general election. David Cameron’s earlier attempts to head off the UKIP challenge — most notably his implausible promise of an improbable referendum on EU membership — have failed. Now the Tories have to try something else. It may be a far tougher line toward the EU (good luck with getting that taken seriously), and, although this comes with considerable electoral risks of its own, it may be a lurch to the right.

Who knows? What it will be is desperate.