But that morning, BBC reporters with dark circles under their eyes looked slightly shell-shocked as they broke the news that the PM had lost his bet. Haggard guest politicians were raw and frank, blaming other politicians for not countering the Leave movement more effectively by educating voters about the stakes, and even accusing some voters of jumping on an anti-immigrant bandwagon “never having seen an immigrant.”
Outside 10 Downing Street, the crowd waited in anxious silence for Cameron to make a statement, with the BBC reporter hinting at a rumor he might resign there and then. Cameron and his wife Samantha emerged with somber expressions as he proceeded to make a short, moving speech affirming the democratic vote, noting he had fought “directly and passionately” but, with his voice breaking and his wife looking stiff and miserable nearby, announced his resignation to allow new leadership to negotiate exit terms with the EU. He was politically and personally defeated, as were the other 48 percent who had voted Remain. Sadly and surprisingly, commentators immediately pronounced that he had lost his place in history.
Not surprisingly, the Remain vote in Scotland was the strongest of UK nations, with a full 62 percent wishing to continue EU membership, for many reasons. At the Edinburgh airport, a stalwart 30-something customs official had said before the vote that his generation has only ever known free travel within Europe and he couldn’t imagine otherwise.
Edinburgh itself bustles with shops and restaurants emphasizing farm-fresh ingredients. A Scottish waiter explained how leaving the EU would mean produce prices would rise as markets became limited to UK suppliers.
Many of the other waiters, shop workers and hotel staff in Edinburgh were from EU countries such as Belgium, Italy, and Slovakia, living and working in the UK just as they could in any other European country, contributing their labor and skills to the local economy. I don’t think I was imagining the haunted looks on some of their faces in the days following the vote, suddenly uncertain where they might be in six months.
Seventy-two percent of UK voters had turned out, which meant almost one in three did not participate.
A balding Edinburgh taxi driver in his 40s told me that the “yes or no” decision was too stark for him to feel comfortable voting, so he didn’t. But many others did, including the vast majority of English blue-collar Leave voters believing that excessive immigration fostered by EU membership has robbed them of jobs and reduced social services benefits like health care. (Sound familiar?)
Reminding me of US blue-versus-red political maps, a BBC map that morning showed Scotland entirely in bright yellow contrasting England’s mostly blue for Leave. This now only adds fuel to the fire of possible Scottish secession from the UK. Other EU countries like Denmark may also now consider exiting, reducing the EU’s unified strength. Separation may lead to fragmentation.
With our own momentous vote of lasting consequence imminent, what can we learn from Brexit? First, vote. It counts, even if indirectly through the Electoral College. Second, listening to UK reactions, it seems that the motivation to isolate, to cut off and create walls, rather than cooperatively share resources and join forces, stems from nostalgia for what used to be (whether real or myth), and ignorance of the contributions of newcomers who make our lives better.
Ironically, Donald Trump, notorious for his own isolationist views, had landed in Scotland the day before to visit his golf resort. An Edinburgh bartender bemusedly recounted how Trump wanted to buy an adjacent property to expand into, but the landowner wouldn’t sell, raising a Mexican flag on his property to make his position clear. More Mexican flags were waved by protesters lining Trump’s route.
That such transnational symbolism works to send a message only underscores how eerily similar our situations are, and what might cloud our own future.
