What the Latest Stretch of Brexit Purgatory Means for Britain

Do they take their marching orders from the Bolivians for these summits? Just what is the secret of Europe’s leaders that allows them to stay up so far past their bedtimes?

On Wednesday night, Theresa May was out giving a press conference at 3AM. That takes some stamina for a 62-year-old; it can’t all be high Anglican piety juicing her to the gills, can it? Maybe a light soupçon of something with the Ferrero Rocher? Emmanuel Macron was apparently very much “worked up” after midnight, as he thumped the table, and banged on about forcing Britain out. The man worked for Goldman Sachs in his past life – surely he knows his way around a bag of nosegay?

In the same hall in Brussels that was the venue for David Cameron’s half-failed half-renegotiation in 2016 – where, after another testy and impossibly late evening, he emerged with some thin gruel with which he tried to proclaim – his unlikely successor staged her own improbably cataclysmic end. Whatever process Cameron thought he was beginning, no one could have imagined it would end in such sprawling, incoherent mess.

This must be Theresa’s last EU summit as leader – though they’ve been saying that for a while already. After the 29th of March, and the 12th of April, the fumbled panic of the past few weeks lifts somewhat. We now have a delay until the 31st of October. Mark Francois can stand down.

The delay, as predicted, is a “flextension”. If we wrap up our negotiations before the actual Halloween, then we are free to go sooner. And if we don’t? Well, let’s not peer too deeply into that dim dystopia just yet.

But before the cod loin and macadamia nut parfait, a little light humiliation: the PM had to stand up and beg. She wanted a delay only to the end of June, she said. The talks with Corbyn were proceeding well, she said, mystifyingly… so she would probably wrap up her Brexit well before the 30th of June.

EU Council President Donald Tusk had suggested a delay of a year; Angela Merkel was with him. But for the first time in a long time, mass impatience means that cracks have begun to open up in the EU27’s sheen of unity. For any French President, Brit-bashing plays well at home – and Emmanuel Macron needs all the help he can get at home. “It is with great impatience that I will listen to Theresa May,” Macron bloviated for the cameras. “We have a European renaissance to run and I don’t want Brexit to come and block us on this.”

But he was never going to win, and he already knew it – after hours of pointless back-and-forth, the EU27 agreed to meet halfway, at six months. Near 1AM, little Manny was finally persuaded to come down from his treehouse for dinner. The pantomime was over.

There were, though, some preconditions. The EU are wary of leaving anything up to Britain’s feral politics – they know they know that any deal with May is only as long as the PM’s lifespan – presently likely to be somewhere between a fruit-fly and a hamster gifted to a lazy eight-year-old. So, to reassure themselves about their investment, the EU have imposed certain conditions.

For a start, no PM will be allowed to head for No Deal until the full term expires on the 31st of October. This is to bind the hands of any successor Brexiteer Prime Minister. Similarly, for as long as we go on, the UK must act in “sincere co-operation”, so it won’t be possible for a future Brexiteer PM to get the EU to push us out, by proposing the kind of wrecking behaviour Jacob Rees-Mogg had lately been publicly flirting with, like vetoing the EU budget.

Waking up this morning with the slight melancholy comedown familiar to anyone who’s spent an evening on the high Anglican piety, the PM can at least content herself that this frenzied post-Christmas phase has ended. The immediate week-by-week bulimic cycle of Brexit retreats is over – but the dèja vu will keep on coming. Now, the saga returns to Westminster, where the same three options will continue to loop round and round, without obvious resolution. The talks with Labour. Getting the Withdrawal Agreement through. Or calling a General Election.

All of these have very low probabilities of happening. We’re three weeks from local elections, and six from European Elections, and a rogue poll yesterday put Labour nine points ahead of the Conservatives. Would Corbyn want to blow that largely unearned lead by throwing the PM a Brexit lifeline?

For her enemies, too, the same unworkable strategies continue as before. Parliament’s Remain majority will continue to block off the exit doors; the Hard Brexiteers will double down on their decapitation plan.

Crucially, though something has shifted: this is the first moment since Xmas when there has been enough breathing-space to even allow for a Party hit job. MPs wasted their shot to depose her directly, so May’s ministers would have to “do a Thatcher”: go to her, one by one, and tell her that they no longer have any confidence. The likes of Gove and Hunt have been less than bold so far, but the prospect of ballot box disaster might force their hand… when his seat is threatened, the usually placid Tory backbencher transforms into a ruthless carnivore.

Whichever way we still have to travel, there is at least vague, metaphorical hope. As this morning has shown, even the most unmovable obstacles do eventually dissolve. And perhaps we can all hope to look as good as Julian Assange come October.

@gavhaynes