Brexit is the perfect example of self-deprecation. The problem is, it’s not funny any more
Peter Krijgsman – a Canadian-born holder of a Dutch passport and a UK resident since 1965 – was devastated when Britain decided to leave the EU in 2016. Now, even many of those who voted to go are feeling sickened
I was 17 when the United Kingdom became part of the European Economic Community – the same age as my English mother on the day Great Britain declared war on Germany in 1939, and two years younger than my dad when he watched the Luftwaffe flatten his home town of Rotterdam the following year.
Comparing my experience to that of my parents, joining Europe should have felt like a seminal moment – the epitome of human progress in a country still recovering from the Second World War. I would like to say that I felt some sacred revelation of peace and harmony overlaying strife; but I can’t, because I didn’t.
This happened at the start of 1973. Hopeless “Grocer” Heath was the British prime minister and “Tricky Dicky” Nixon was president of the United States. Industrial disputes were back to back. The Vietnam War was tragic, miserable, incomprehensible and worst of all still happening. Meanwhile, in my privileged parallel universe, Jimmy Osmond had been at Number 1 since Christmas and would still be hanging around the charts for weeks. It was no time to celebrate.
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