That particularly titanic vessel has struck the iceberg, with Theresa May promising to quit on the condition that her unbackable version of Brexit passes. You read that right.
If the shifting colossal mess that is Brexit can still be defined, I fear only the words of Edmund Blackadder will do. Theresa May promising to resign if her version of Brexit is passed is a crisis. A large crisis. In fact, if you got a moment, it’s a twelve-storey crisis with a magnificent entrance hall, carpeting throughout, 24-hour portage, and an enormous sign on the roof, saying ‘This Is a Large Crisis’.
With the deadline of the decision being literally tomorrow, Theresa May flying the coop is akin to the moment that Fargo’s eternal shyster Jerry Lundegaard tried to sweet talk the cops while attempting to sneak outside the bathroom window in his underwear. There’s no plan, nothing beyond crocodile tears, wobbling jaws and the detritus of political hubris. It’s a pulling of the pin that is of the moment. She’ll leave, but only if her version of Brexit is passed through the Commons on the third attempt. It’s desperation that defies logic.
It makes about as much sense as Brexit, in that, if her opponents want to get rid of her, they must pass the measure they want to be rid of her to be rid of.
The date of her departure is deliberately iffy, with May telling Tory MPs: “I am prepared to leave this job earlier than I intended in order to do what is right for our country and our party.”
Per Buzzfeed, “Downing Street sources said they expected that if the withdrawal agreement is ratified by May 22, then a Tory leadership contest to determine the next prime minister would begin soon after.”
I don’t want to editorialise here, but a country about to split from itself, reading to throw all remnants of Europe off the cliffs of Dover, hurtling towards a No-Deal Brexit without determining matters that matter to the average person affected by it (trade, travel, or even drivers’ licences), is the peak of insanity. In fact, it makes us look sane. A bunch of drunks flirting with the NRA seems preferable.
What May and her cabal have accomplished is something towering. It’ll be something we won’t be able to explain to our grandkids. They’ll ask us what Brexit was, and we wouldn’t be able to tell them.
That’s certainly something.