The almost empty train in which I travel has reached its
destination after about 80 minutes. I have left behind the Christmassy, cheerful,
very expensive, packed with tourists and intoxicatingly cosmopolitan London,
and suddenly I feel I am touching down in another country within the same
country: I am now at the littoral Clacton-On-Sea.
At
first I feel relief. Finally, I can find some peace. The day is a typical
winter day, with a pale suspicion of sunshine, which makes the cold weather a
little more bearable. Thankfully the sound of seagulls reminds me that the sea
is not that far away. I have been walking only for a few minutes in this
completely unknown to me corner of England and I am quickly flooded by the
feeling that all the answers that I need for my new ambitious story could be
found here, in this typically English city, with 55,000 residents, who scored
one of the most impressive figures in favour of Britain leaving the European
Union last June: an astonishing 70%.
Clacton-On-Sea makes me think of the England I heard
about from my English language teacher when I was a teenager. The England of the 70s, with the
outrageous fashion, the rugged landscapes and all the English clichés. The
ethereal air and luxurious feel of London seem to be thousands of miles away. Forget
the well-dressed and sophisticated Londoners, forget the modern cafés and
restaurants and the extravagant fashion. Just forget most of what you think you
know about the country, that is based solely on the images of London city.
The
difference between the capital and Clacton is not just of an economic nature,
this is perhaps the least. It is a cultural schism which causes a great shock
to the unsuspected visitor, but also provides valuable explanations to why the
result of the June referendum was what it was and why it could not be any
different.
I
say to myself as I walk: welcome to the country of Brexit!
From
postcards I have seen that Clacton is full of life during summertime, but just
before Christmas it looks like a different place. In the streets there are
almost only elderly people. The city has become a destination for retirees and
it is estimated that in 20 years from now 60% of the population of Clacton will
be over 60 years old. This in itself could be an explanation for the triumphant
victory of “Leave”, but that was not enough for my research and so I sought
much more complex answers in the central pub in Clacton Main Street, which is located
right opposite of the grey-looking sea and the melancholy deserted premises of
the summer amusement park. Unlike London, where it would be considered totally
indiscreet to speak to strangers, all my efforts to talk to regulars at the Moon and Starfish pub were unexpectedly
successful. Everyone seemed happy to give me a quote and I almost felt like I
was back home in Greece, in a café at a small remote village, where everyone
knows everyone and people are so open with each other and whole-hearted.
“I belong to the silent minority of Clacton”
says in a secretive and conspiratorial way Mr. Bryan Adkins, 52, as he’s
drinking a pint of cold beer along with his father.
“I think the majority voted to leave the
European Union without really believing that this could actually happen. Some
still do not believe it will ever happen” he adds.
On
the opposite table there is 25-year-old James, who works at a mobile phone shop
in one of the most commercial streets of Clacton. He seems to be in a somehow
philosophical mood and I truly enjoy talking to him. He confesses to me with
slight embarrassment that he did not vote in the June referendum.
“I do not know why I did not vote. From my
friends, only half of them voted. And to be honest, I still do not know whether
I did the right or the wrong thing. If I could use an excuse, it is that for us
here the meaning of the European Union is something quite distant. Yes, we know
the positives, as well as the negatives, but that’s about it really.”
Next
I see Carol Molony, a 64-year old redheaded woman, who wears a strange for her
age outfit with traces of her hippie youth. She seems to be mad for joy when
she finds out that I am from Greece. She strongly believes that because of her
Irish origin we have so much to share and discuss. She begins to talk about
Brexit and she does not want to stop.
“There is no way you can explain the passion
of my fellow citizens about leaving the EU without becoming insulting.”
It
quickly becomes obvious that Carol was a supporter of the “Remain” vote.
“The problem with all referendums is that we
are asked to provide answers to very serious issues that we are poorly informed
about. The public is so easily influenced and prone to populist propaganda.
Here live people, who do not travel much and actually just repeat what they
hear, so they do not have their own opinions.”
Just
as James said earlier, Carol confirms that Clacton does not suffer from issues
like high unemployment or influx of immigrants, two of the main reasons why
England voted to leave the EU. So what is the reason why this Brexit stronghold
did not want to be part of Europe anymore?
As
I continue chatting with Carol, a middle-aged man behind me overhears us and
breaks in on our conversation.
“Britain should only belong to the British!”
he shouts to me and the whole pub turns to look at him.
Carol
explains to me that the loud chauvinist is named Oliver Wrenn and he is a firm
supporter of Brexit.
He
continues talking to me in a slightly aggressive way, as he takes a sip of his
beer, but I am struggling to understand what he is saying. His thick native
accent is too hard for a foreigner like me to understand. Judging by the wet
marks on his Christmas jumper, he must have been drinking quite a lot, so I
choose to ignore him, although his patriotism has somehow made me think that
most of the regulars in the pub feel the same way as him.
I
speak to a few more people at the Moon
and Starfish pub, but more or less I get the same answers. Many people are
not sure why they voted “Leave”, others feel that the EU membership is limiting
their freedom and a few believe that with Brexit, their wages and pensions will
receive a high boost. No one however, seems totally sure about their vote and I
sense hesitation in the voices of some when they speak to me.
I
get the feeling that Carol was right when she said that people here, in
Clacton, are “poorly informed”. Maybe
misinformation is the key answer to the question of my reportage. Maybe people
repeat what they watch and hear on TV, maybe they blindly accept what their
preferred political party advocates or maybe the hope for a better future has
influenced their decision.
As
I am leaving the crowded pub, I realise that the first images I saw as I came
out of the Clacton central railway station were very representative of the
“Leave” vote. Here, in this city, blows a nostalgic air of the old England,
with the lost traditions that have been flattened and mutated at London, with the
big multinational companies, the bright lights, the glamorous lifestyle, the
loud clubs and the politicians who have ceased to care about the simple and
common people.
The
voice of that old England was heard on the 23rd of June in 2016.