The Labour government’s worrying lack of ambition in Europe

Sir Keir Starmer, Britain’s prime minister, says that he has a “once-in-a-generation opportunity” to turn the corner on Brexit. He is right. He was propelled to power in July by a largely pro-European electoral coalition. The leading lights of the Brexit era—Boris Johnson, Michael Gove, Sir Jacob Rees-Mogg—are figures of the past. And Britons themselves show plenty of signs of regret for the decision made in 2016. A clear majority of them now consider it a mistake.

Closer relations with Europe would also serve the Labour government’s priority: growth. Working out how big an economic hit Brexit has inflicted is hard, but the damage has been substantial. Investment has suffered, trade has stuttered. The stifling of competition from abroad risks sapping productivity for years to come.

But opportunities can be wasted as well as seized. Sir Keir has spent the summer meeting leaders from the European Union and pursuing the Sally Rooney school of diplomacy: normal people having conversations with friends. That is a necessary first step. But he will need to do a lot more than that.

One problem stands out. The Brexit saga turned the relationship with Europe into a test of ideology. Compromise was portrayed as betrayal, sovereignty became a shibboleth. After Theresa May specified her hard-line negotiating priorities, one commentator wrote in 2017: “Those red lines swept the customs union and single market off the table, along with any future role for the European Court of Justice. This was always an extreme interpretation of the referendum.”

That commentator was—you guessed it—Sir Keir. Yet seven years on, he and his government appear trapped by the lexicon and mindset of the post-2016 years. He has outlined some sensible, but piecemeal, objectives: fewer checks for farm products and more co-operation in foreign policy and defence. But he has needlessly drawn red lines of his own. In the campaign Sir Keir said that Britain would not go into the single market or the customs union in his lifetime. He has been disdainful of European overtures for a youth-mobility agreement, although that would supply the economy with young, dependant-free workers and open doors abroad to young Britons.

Missing is any attempt to reframe the relationship. That does not mean trying to rejoin the EU: the one thing Brexit did mean was that Britain would leave the bloc. But the result left plenty of room to make the case for closer economic integration and regulatory alignment than exists today. Sir Keir can aim for more defence-industry co-operation, say, without having to pick a specific model, such as the customs union.

Sir Keir has some good arguments. One is that nothing matters more than growth, which alone makes closer ties with Britain’s largest trading partner essential. Another is that trying to resist the EU’s power to set regulatory norms is often quixotic and costly. Tory governments wasted time trying to promote a British rival to the “CE” product-certification mark stamped on toasters and toys. They failed. Integration is not a zero-sum game, despite what negotiators on all sides tend to say. By allowing youth mobility to be presented as a European “demand”, Sir Keir has made something that would be good for Britain seem like a concession.

Caution comes naturally to him. At some level, it is understandable: saying little on Brexit did not stop him getting into office. But public opinion on the EU is not rigid. Polls suggest a big majority of voters are receptive to common-sense forms of co-operation. He has the rare political capital that comes with a landslide election victory, and the chance to set out a new rationale for Britain’s relationship with the EU in the national interest. If Sir Keir and his government are too timid and unambitious to argue their case on an easy issue like Europe, they will struggle with everything else. ■