Brexit should teach politicians the lesson they most need to learn – knowing when to stop

Sadly there are far more examples of elected leaders running with the tide than finding the courage to say ‘let’s think again’

George Bush showed wisdom and restraint by calling a quick end to the first Gulf War – but other politicians are yet to take heed (Reuters)

Of the reams of analysis that has tried to explain Boris Johnson’s sweeping election victory, one comment made more sense than most. It came from Jonathan Lis of the think tank British Influence, and his point was that Johnson won his majority not on 12 December, but on 17 October, when he defied many sceptics to conclude his deal with the European Union.

It is this that made it possible for Johnson to go into the election with the realistic objective of “getting Brexit done”. Had he called an election without an agreement that was – again, in his parlance – “oven ready”, the election could well have produced more of the same political stalemate that had survived one election and gone on for almost four years.

As astute as Johnson’s calculation was in going for an election with his deal in hand, the thinking of the combined forces of the opposition was the very opposite. First, they blocked his attempts to call an earlier election when he would have had to campaign without a deal. Second, they failed to understand the extent to which voters just wanted a resolution.

Interestingly, Johnson’s own voting history suggests that he, almost alone among Conservative Brexiteers, had grasped this as he switched sides to vote for Theresa May’s deal at the third time of asking, though she still failed to carry the day.

The rest, of course, is now history.

But the miscalculations of the opposition underline a salutary lesson. There is a time when it is wise to stop, look around, and accept that further resistance has become (or will soon become) counterproductive.

The Labour Party and the Liberal Democrats, in their different ways, failed to recognise that the time for compromise had arrived, as did those Conservative Remainers who were ruthlessly dispatched by Johnson for their dissent. Dominic Grieve and the rest then had their chance to make their pitch direct to the voters by standing as independents at the election; not one succeeded.

In retrospect, the time for Remain MPs to accept defeat was when Theresa May first laid her deal before parliament – or, at very least, on 29 March when Boris Johnson changed his vote. Any further resistance was futile. Parliament had made its voice heard; it had influenced the “deal” as far as was possible. Only the Scottish nationalists had a reason to fight on – a decision that may or may not bear fruit in the form of a new independence referendum.

Knowing when to stop, or when to switch tactics, is a hallmark of successful politicians and strategists of all kinds. Jo Swinson as leader of the Liberal Democrats got it catastrophically wrong when she vowed to defy the result of the original Brexit referendum. Jeremy Corbyn’s mistake was less to sit on the fence than to appear to offer the prospect of more of the same.

Getting the timing right, though, is not easy. One elected leader who did get it right in recent times (though he received scant thanks for it, either then or subsequently) is George Bush, who as the US president in February 1991 called a halt to the pursuit of retreating Iraqi forces, thus ending the first Gulf War. The ground war had lasted just four days.

The president’s chief argument was that he had mustered an international coalition, which included Arab states, on the understanding that the mission was limited to expelling Iraq from Kuwait. There was a risk that the coalition could fracture if the mission were expanded beyond its original brief. There was also the risk of high casualties or becoming bogged down, if Iraqis were fighting on and for for their own land. And then there was a humanitarian and moral argument: that the rout of retreating Iraqi forces had become a “turkey shoot” of gratuitous killing and destruction.

Iraq had been defeated; its aggression had been reversed.The mission had been accomplished.

Bush was sharply criticised at the time for missing the opportunity to “finish the job”, by speeding on to Baghdad and removing Saddam Hussein. But the folly of this argument was demonstrated when Bush’s son, George W Bush, did indeed try to finish the job after 9/11. The malign consequences are with us to this day.

Alas, though, there are far more examples in recent history of elected leaders and others running with the tide than finding the courage to say “stop, let’s think again“.

One of the most heinous such errors of recent times has to be the decision on the part of Nato leaders to keep the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation in existence even after the dissolution of the Warsaw Pact and the Soviet Union. Whether there was ever an actual decision to perpetuate the alliance, rather than a default decision to do nothing in the confused circumstances of 1991, is unclear. But there were plenty of opportunities in the following years to review that position. Three decades on, the continued existence of Nato and its expansion to Russia’s borders has created many of the tensions that beset Europe today.

Had Nato been dissolved, had some other security formulation been found that provided for a Europe-centric defence system without drawing a new Cold War-style border between east and west, many recent conflicts and near conflicts in and around Europe might have been avoided.

The failure of successive US leaders to end the post 9/11 intervention in Afghanistan is another mistake of lesser, but still, substantial proportions. The futility of these operations is now established beyond all doubt in documents recently obtained and published by the Washington Post. Despite President Donald Trump’s best efforts, a substantial number of international troops remain.

And here is my final example – admittedly, of an eclectic bunch – that comes closer to home. Last year, the centenary of the First World War offered the UK an opportunity to mark the occasion in the traditional way, while announcing, with all due dignity, that the manner of commemoration should henceforth change.

The chance was missed. The 101st Armistice Day commemoration at the Cenotaph in London was the same sadly outdated melange that incorporates elements of Empire and the established Church in an incongruous pageant of faded glory, with a military and then a popular march tagged on. There must be some other way. Take out the religious element for a start. Decide whether the ceremony should be official or popular in tone. Keep the poppies and the two minutes’ silence by all means, but choose whether to observe the ceremonial on 11 November or the closest Sunday, not both. End the Festival of Remembrance at the Albert Hall.

Then make it explicit that it is all the nation’s casualties, from all wars, that are being commemorated. End the triumphalist nostalgia for the two world wars, especially now the Second, and acknowledge their mixed legacy and, alongside the glory, the harm.

Our remembrance needs to be cut down to size, brought up to date and fitted in to the post-Brexit reality of the UK as a medium-sized country: no longer entitled to lead, but ready to cooperate with others for the national and international good.

Knowing when to stop is a crucial skill that UK leaders will probably need more of in times to come. The national memory might not be a bad place to start.