(Editor: An impassioned polemic by our writer Jake Daniels, delivering the rage many have felt in the past few days.)
To the political class,
You did this. All of you. All the politicians and members of parliament in your little partisan circles. It feels like a member of the family has died; the youth of this country have watched the rug snatched from beneath our future lives. In fact it is a death, the death of the futures we might have one day had.
You with your Big Society politics, your disdain for the less educated and misinformed. The ignorance born not of bigotry or a deep-seated racism, but the hopelessness of a world you created. Your lazy fear tactics have failed. Your attempt to get your own way with your own underhand tactics have cataclysmically failed. We are a country heading towards the greatest divide in living memory.
There is a union crumbling beneath us, the Scottish will leave us, and unlike the first referendum, I wish them success in the uncoupling of our two nations. Unlike the rest of this country, they at least saw sense in trying to stop us ripping apart the force of a continent united. A continent, which now looks doomed to rip itself apart in its own search for a freedom that doesn’t exist.
I’m not angry at working class men and women or at people with a less than adequate education. For that was their education from you, to live so without hope of upward mobility that any alternative, no matter how ill conceived, seemed better than the world you were offering.
I’m not even angry at the elderly, whose dotage had become such a bore for them that watching a country descend into chaos was preferable to the lives their hard work had earned them. A generation longing for the glory days of Britain; to use the phrase they don’t know any better feels almost condescending, but I think in this case it is as an adequate an assessment as I can make. Those who were born into or lived through the last great global conflict, seem to have inflicted the seeds of another on the young, who have the most awful sense of watching history repeat itself. Words now feel almost empty, little more than the wailing of a child not even sure what is causing it discontent.
You did this. And may this be your legacy. The leaders who brought a nation to its knees. And to a people, the gift of mistrust and hate towards their fellow nationals.
I didn’t vote. I wanted to, but I was away, enjoying my youth discovering another of Europe’s great and ancient cities, another country scarred by the pages of history. Forever I will now be doomed to carry a guilt, a guilt that I could not have prevented this. The 23rd of June, a day I shall never be able to forget.
But, if a glimmer of hope exists that this can be undone, be certain, I will fight to ensure what is done can one day mended.
A change is in the air, and when the dust settles, be certain, your history will be written in the blackest ink that is available to the people of this country. You did this, now watch the dominoes fall.