Woke up this morning with 'dem post-referendum blues

"Good luck," said the simple coverline on today's edition of Libération, the left-leaning French newspaper. This wouldn't have been so acerbic (one Twitter wag claimed that France "was now trolling the UK") had it not been accompanied by a full page image of a Union Flag-waving Boris Johnson dangling clown-like from a zip wire. Magnifique.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the man who aspires to be the next prime minister of Britain, whose de facto leadership of the Leave campaign in the EU referendum was largely to facilitate his ambition of being the next tenant of 10 Downing Street. Not much, mind, about the future of the UK's prosperity but - hey! - what's in a detail?

Of course, the picture of BoJo, taken of the former London mayor during the 2012 Olympics, could easily be excused as a good old piece of self-depreciating British fun. I'm always told by foreign friends that they love the English sense of humour. I wonder what has become of that now?

Make no mistake, as Leavers echo Margaret Thatcher's borrowing of St. Francis of Assisi's poem (you know - discord/harmony, error/truth, doubt/faith, despair/unity, etc...), the seismic outcome of Thursday's referendum has done more to spread discord than it may have sought to repel. Because if you boil down its intentions, and the intentions of those who voted, to their bare bones, two truths emerge.

The first is that the referendum was, to begin with, an act of appeasement by David Cameron to the Tory party's ever-present Eurosceptic schism, which was then seized upon by Johnson as his chance to go for No.10. Quite what he would be qualified for when he gets in there remains to be seen, but if nothing else, his reputation for buffoonery doesn't bode well for Britain's reputation abroad (though no doubt he will find a kindred spirit in a certain prospective US presidential candidate with equally manic blond hair).

The trouble is that, post-referendum, Britain is anything but amusing. The last thing it needs is a Ken Dodd figure with a mad bouffant to tickle our funny bones into feeling better about the future. Now BoJo has achieved his aim of being Britain's prime minister-elect under the banner of "taking back control", I wonder what he actually has in mind to achieve that?

What is his plan for stabilising the markets that saw millions of pounds wiped off British pension funds during yesterday's financial freefall? What will be the strategy for addressing the balance sheet, and access to borrowing now that credit rating agencies are beginning to downgrade the UK?

How does he plan to mitigate the inevitable decision of Airbus to move the skilled manufacturing of aircraft wings from Lancashire to sites in the EU, where exporting for final assembly in Hamburg and Toulouse will be easier?

What about Nissan, which employs 7000 people in Sunderland and exports to all over Europe and even back to its native Japan? How will they be persuaded that a UK with more restricted access to European trade will be worth investing in? Same with other Japanese car manufacturers, Toyota and Honda, who together with Nissan, have restored the British automotive industry to the extent that in 2014 the UK exceeded France for car manufacturing for the first time ever.

The second truth is that the referendum, David Cameron's gamble on direct democracy, can at least be cited as the British people having their say. 33 million votes - a turnout of around 75% - is impressive (by comparison, the 2015 general election saw just 66% of those eligible voting). And it is clear that the demographic divide between Leave and Remain speaks volumes: that working class people in the north of England and those over 65 expressed their frustration at austerity,  economic malaise and the influence of the metropolitan elite - and, of course, immigration - by voting Leave; and that 70% of those under 25 voted Remain, along with Scotland and London, who have somewhat different allegiances to the European ideal.

Understandably, people on both sides of Remain and Leave are calling for the UK to move on. The Leavers say that the 48% who voted to remain must accept the decision. But look at it another way: the margin between Out and In was just a million votes. A technical majority, yes, but it indicates just how divided the UK is now.

Even if the referendum can be pared down to the competition between two Old Etonians for control of the upper sixth common room, it would be impossible to ignore the extent of British sentiment - for and against - which has been expressed by the referendum. But it's this that makes the actual campaigns so disingenuous. Facts would have been helpful, and I mean actual facts, not spun half-truths and outright lies. Like the £350 million claim, which UKIP's Nigel Farage has admitted was "a mistake". Not that Farage has exactly been blameless - his entire narrative has been one of peddling fear and paranoia, underpinned by grotesque jingoism.

Reuters

His 'breaking point' poster was not only a low point for the Brexit debate, it was a low point for British politics, and a tacit encouragement of the racism becoming ever more prevalent (increasing stories of people of various ethnic and national backgrounds being abused on buses, trains and in high streets - chilling echoes of the American segregation era and 1930s Germany).

Even if one of the central points of the Leave campaign was to free Britain of the overbearing bureaucratic nature of the EU machine, the bid to escape it unleashed an unpleasant tone to the Leave narrative. The soft version of this has been the pro-Leave, Middle England-representing newspapers, The Sun, Daily Mail and Daily Express, peddling (and swallowing) jingoistic references to Spitfires, green fields, Elgar and pints of ale, as if "taking back control" means restoring Britain to some anachronistic ideal.  

Everyone has their right to an opinion, but we've been left with a Britain less "great" as fractured and angry. And still somewhat at the mercy of Farage, a politician who makes Boris Johnson look credible, and whose first comment after the result came in yesterday morning was to crassly declare a bloodless victory, "without having to fight, without a single bullet being fired". Tell that to Jo Cox's children.

Farage can, easily be depicted as the bogeyman of the referendum, and while he might appear to invoke popular support, he has so far failed on several occasions to be elected to any major political institution other than the European Parliament, which he loathes. Johnson might be a clown, but Farage is a joke, flip-flopping on everything, from his own party leadership (resigning after the General Election, having failed to be elected for the seat of Thanet South, only to be reinstated almost immediately) to the actual outcome of the referendum itself. For him to declare yesterday morning that the result was a victory for "ordinary people" and "decent people" both underlined his opportunism and his insensitivity. Were the near-half of all voters not ordinary and indecent then? Probably, in UKIP's eyes, given the affiliations of some of their number with the dehumanisation narrative of the extreme far right.

That said, if those who voted Leave on Thursday truly believe the campaign's Trumpist rhetoric about  taking back their country and making Britain great again, they should now wonder what they've reacquired. On top of the financial and business instability, the political landscape is about to grow ever more fractious.

Just 150,000 Tory party members will choose the next British prime minister, as opposed to the 33 million voters who took part in the actual referendum that led to David Cameron's resignation.

So much for his message that the country had just taken part in perhaps the biggest democratic history in its history and that "We should be proud of the fact that in these islands we trust the people for these big decisions."

Maybe, but what will it mean? What will be the impact of Scotland choosing, decisively, to exit the United Kingdom and re-attach itself to the EU? What will happen to the peace process in Northern Ireland if republicans agitate - and succeed - in securing a referendum on unification with Ireland? How will Wales respond, given that it is already conflicted over whether EU subsidies have been of any help, as the principality's industrial base has been eroded by declines in mining and the steel industry.

The British are famous for their stiff upper lips and stoicism. The sentiment on social media, at least, is, in some places, one of resignation and 'let's just get on with it, shall we?'. Wales and Ireland play each other this afternoon in Euro 2016 so, after a 72-hour hiatus from the football, our summer opiate will provide some relief from the doom, gloom and division of the last couple of days. But after today, after tomorrow, after next week, next month, reality will sink in.

The Tories will tear themselves apart, as usual, as they elect a new prime minister, without anyone else in the country having a say. And the Labour party will do much the same, as it implodes over Jeremy "lukewarm" Corbyn's dismal performance in the Remain campaign, his thinly-veiled euroscepticism diluting any opportunity to convince Labour voters of what they actually stand to lose by voting with their hearts rather than their heads.

Libération's front page gesture may have been in some jest, but the reality is that Great Britain - or what's left of it as a result of the referendum - will need more than just luck in the future. And the hard work begins now. I never thought I'd ever find myself invoking Thatcher, but the job now for whomever runs the country next will indeed be to bring harmony to discord, repair errors with truth, replace doubt with faith, and resolve despair with unity. If there is any left.