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The Brexit discussion is primarily about how the British feel – whether
they have been betrayed by Theresa May, electively blackmailed, humiliated,
lied to, deceived or at least disappointed or confused by the EU. I will
attempt here to hold a mirror to my own position. As a German, and as a
political correspondent in Brexit Britain, I increasingly find myself asking
the question: do they mean us?
I experienced a shocking trip to Germany to celebrate Christmas. Of
course, on such a trip you inevitably meet up with old friends and family,
and talk about how the past year has been. But before I could even open my
mouth to tell them about the amazing new V&A gallery in Dundee, or the
abortion referendum in Ireland or my trip to Blackpool, I was faced with
knowing expressions of sympathy: “You poor thing,” they said. But
somehow, I had the feeling they were referring to themselves. “That awful
Brexit, it must all be so boring for you.”
Did they mean me? Or themselves? Well, yes, maybe it is a bit boring. I
do now and then struggle to find an angle to the story that hasn’t yet been
explored. But it is also exciting to be a foreign correspondent in a country
at such a historically meaningful point. And there has been so much work to
do I haven’t been bored over the past year at all.
“My mind starts going around in circles as soon as I hear the word Brexit
now,” a friend said to me. “Will it ever end?” asked a relative, in the same
tone he had used to address his screaming three-year-old. The frustrating
thing is that the Germans I met over those few weeks were all completely 27
©Zimmermann; DOI: 10.1177/0956474819835412; [2019/3] 30:1; 27-32; http://bjr.sagepub.com
A good example is Dominic Raab, who took until 2018 to recognise the
importance of trade between Calais and Dover. Or the Northern Ireland
Secretary, Karen Bradley, who realised after being appointed that the issue
of the unionists and nationalists might be a lot more complicated than she
had anticipated. It also took an extremely long time until Liam Fox finally
understood the issue of bilateral trade agreements.
The feeling of disaffection that so many Brits are experiencing with
regard to the Brexit discussion, the uncomfortable impression that everything
that is happening has little to do with them, is something we correspondents,
the messengers of madness, share with the British victims of Brexit.
It is, indeed, very complicated. Take the backstop. We have tried to
explain it on so many occasions, using graphics, words, examples, stories.
Then I go to Germany to find that few understand it. The internal Tory
Party vote of no confidence in May didn’t make much sense to a German
audience either. And when it comes to helping them understand why the
British public still wants out of the EU when it is obviously a bad idea, it
shows the limits of media power. Do they listen to us? Did we really do such
a terrible job of explaining it all to them? You have to ask yourself when yet
another person says: “I get the impression the Brits will come back.” Are
they referring to anything we have reported? Can journalists create a certain
impression without meaning to? Or is it rather that when a story doesn’t
make sense, reason kicks in and constructs a better one?
The complicated thing about Brexit is that it goes against the general
rules of storytelling. A good story has a beginning, a climax and an end, and
follows the rules of logic, or at least those of narrative art. Brexit has an
unsuccessful beginning – a referendum that shouldn’t have happened in the
28 first place – a climax, which for almost half of the population felt like rock
they are bored, waiting to move from a BBC interview to one for ITN.
Success in requesting interviews with ministers or even the prime
minister is either unlikely or hopeless. Every few weeks there is a briefing at
the Department for Exiting the European Union (DExEU). Sometimes we see
caterers putting out teacups for the British correspondents (who are received
separately from us). In Berlin (by way of comparison) the Bundespressekonferenz
meets three times a week, inviting members of the national and accredited
international press, regardless of the country they represent.
Not so in global Britain. Here all they seem to manage is to roll out five
representatives from Downing Street, the Foreign Office and DExEU to
receive questions from dozens of foreign correspondents without releasing
any useful information in return. Even the press conferences at the Beijing
Foreign Office during my time as a correspondent in China were more
fruitful than they are here, though the events are similar in their apparent
desire to keep us from our work.
The highlight of the DExEU briefings for me was in summer, when we
asked in simple terms when Donald Trump was due to visit the UK and
were told once again we wouldn’t be given any information about that –
they didn’t know. Minutes after leaving the building and its poor mobile
phone reception, people were practically shouting from the rooftops that
Trump was scheduled to visit on July 13, confirmed by Downing Street.
Had they not just briefed us? Foreigners don’t get any tea either, by the way.
Should they stay or should they go? In the coming year there will be a
lot of talk about coming and going. Will the Brits stay for a while and leave
later? Or will they stay completely? Will they go for a while and then come
back again? But if they don’t go and do stay, that still doesn’t mean that
30 they really want to be an EU member.
Diana Zimmermann has been the ZDF correspondent for the UK and Ireland since
2015. She worked as the east Asia correspondent for ZDF from 2007-11 and headed
ZDF’s foreign affairs magazine Auslandsjournal before moving to London in 2015.
She was previously a reporter for ARTE in Strasbourg and Berlin,
and a correspondent for ARD in Beijing.