Labour MP, Gisela Stuart’s prescient warning of a “democratic deficit” inherent in the Lisbon Treaty is a rare moment of clarity from a mainstream politician on the almost taboo subject of the European Union.
The treaty, she said, would leave EU leaders accountable to no one, and with the ablility to grab yet more power from nations without consultation. It contains a “ratchet clause” that permits the closing down of national vetoes by diktat.
There will be “no more treaties, no more referendums anywhere” on future transfers of power from the nation states to Brussels. Gordon Brown’s hollow promise that there would be no more treaties for at least 10 years was, as ever, subtly misleading.
She went on, “My basic test of democracy is: can I get rid of them? By casting a vote, you can change the people who are in control of you. Lisbon does not give you, as a citizen, the means to control the executive or the politicians who decide on your behalf, and that’s the hurdle it falls on. The nature of democracy is really at stake.”
I’ve long argued that what’s being built in Europe is a new platform for Fascism. Continentals don’t have the same reflexes against it as the British do; their Napoleonic systems are already deeply autocratic in nature. This is very attractive to people like Blair, Brown and Mandelson, but hated by the English as a whole.
The steely bureaucrats of Brussels are terrified of Britain having a referendumed veto on this final nail in the coffin of democratic pluralism across Europe, which is why they have been making promises to Blair on the newly-created Presidency of the Council. Next year, Tony Blair could wield more power over us than new Prime Minister, David Cameron.
Silly, malleable Blair would be putty in the hands of the backroom power brokers of Brussels. At some stage he would be replaced by the longed-for “strong man” and … here we go again.
How did we sleepwalk into this?
Fascist Frankia is but a few steps away from completion. The 20th century is about to repeat itself.
Wake up, Britain. It’s not too late to get out.
* * * * *
Last week I wrote about the replacement of the postwar baby-boomer generation in our politics.
We have been passing through a period when the spoilt brats of the 1950s and 60s have held political power. Dr Spock’s experimental kidscape proved to be just as destructive as he himself later apologetically admitted it would be.
But consider what’s over the horizon. China has had a one-child per couple policy for decades. Most families made sure it was a boy … and boy, was he mollycoddled.
The young masters of China will be even more frustrated because there’ll be no wives for them. They will soon begin the climb to political power in a newly-resurgent superstate. With its massive reserves of cash and foreign assets, especially dollar-denominated, it will hold immense power over the rest of us.
Imagine such a powerhouse controlled by the spoilt brat generation.
No, let’s not go there.
* * * * *
Nick Clegg topped the Andrew Marr show this morning looking and sounding like a spoilt-brat school kid playing at being a politician. His adolescent attempts at damaging David Cameron with scornful invective misfired completely because it was so plainly not true.
After Gisela Stuart’s grown-up perceptiveness on the Lisbon Treaty, Clegg just seemed gullible and infantile. His boyish enthusiasm for all things euro was shallow and ill considered in the circumstances.
If this man is the next Leader of the Opposition, David Cameron is not going to face much flak from the other side of the House of Commons.
Clegg should be reminded of what happened when Sampson had a haircut.
* * * * *
Paraphernalia is everywhere. In various forms it blights our lives and gums up the works across the board. It’s hard to escape from the growing lakes and mountains of paraphernalia.
Consider weddings — where the word originated. Nowadays they can take a whole day to get through. All that’s really needed is for a couple, in everyday clothes, to walk into a church or registery office. The presiding officer then asks them if they really, really want to marry. If the answer is yes, they are pronounced man and wife and asked to sign a chitty. Next, please! The rest is paraphernalia.
Autobiographies are full of paraphernalia. Chapters on grandparents, parents, siblings, cousins and other family members, litter the pages with unwanted dross. By the time readers get to the real story, they’ve lost the will to live … and 25 quid.
I’ve been mulling this over because I’m considering writing a sort of autobiography without paraphernalia: A Life in Episodes. Sample episode: How I was betrayed by a fish and became a paid writer and photo-journalist at 12. It’s unmissable, I promise you.
Could we not get to grips with this paraphernalia overload in society rather than waste our time counting carbon footprints? We should recognize that they are paraphernalia too.
* * * * *
Automatic stabilizers are the pride of leftwing politicians and that strange group of economists known as Neo-Keynesians.
They kick in when the country goes into recession, automatically increasing spending as the economy splutters. They comprise various benefits paid to the unemployed as they are laid off in growing numbers.
Surely this must be a good thing? To listen to Labour ministers, you’d think so. The problem is, they have no ceiling once they start, and our system pays them out of borrowing, not investments. Borrowing has to be paid back out of taxes, which further depresses the economy.
An economy can easily spiral out of control under limitless “automatic stabilizers” and loss of tax revenue. The United Kingdom is a classic example of that right now.
Never has there been more need for a “social fund” to mop up the automatic stabilizing leakage in the national finances. Surely, there’s now an unstoppable impetus for putting the whole welfare budget on a sounder footing for the future?
* * * * *
Dan Brown’s latest novel, The Lost Symbol is now in the bookshops and, by all accounts, shooting off the shelves at supersonic velocities.
I bought a copy yesterday, despite a self-imposed ordinance not to buy any more books until I had finished writing my own: The Eternal Quest for Immortality — Is it staring you in the face?.
W.H. Smith is offering the £18.99 hardback at £5.99 if you buy 15 quid’s worth of stationery. How can anyone resist an offer like that? I just hope my own much more serious tome doesn’t face similar head-chopping discounts.
Does the author get a royalty on the stationery too? We should be told.
John Evans

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