Political column - October 18
Up Yours, Delors!
This was EU diplomacy as conducted by The Sun.
Back in November 1990 and long before Brexit had ever been coined, The Sun invited its readers to go to various identified strategic points across the nation at midday on a chosen day, turn towards Brussels, and stick up two fingers. One of the locations was the Iron Bridge.
Curious to see the response, I lurked at the appointed time at a discreet distance to observe proceedings. Come midday, nothing happened. I did not see one person on the Iron Bridge flick the V towards Brussels, nor any other direction, for that matter.
Response in other parts of the country seems to have been similarly paltry, because The Sun said the next day that many people had done it "in the privacy of their own homes."
The inference might be that Britons either did not care that much about the EU, or did not want to make themselves look silly in public by taking part in such a ridiculous stunt.
There were, however, 54 formal complaints to the watchdog body the Press Council. The story, which was written under the byline of the "Sun Diplomatic Staff," also exhorted readers to "kick the French in the Gauls."
The complaints were not upheld.
The Sun's insults were not confined to the French. An interview with the German ambassador in London was given the strapline "Hun talks to the Sun."
Jacques Delors was the president of the European Commission, the post now held by Jean-Claude Juncker, so a modern equivalent insult would perhaps be along the lines of In Yer Bunker, Jean-Claude Juncker.
But nobody is talking like that now. Except Philip Hammond, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who in a slip of the tongue characterised the EU side in the negotiations as the enemy.
Today's civil language has led to some people being able to get away with saying that the United Kingdom and the rest of the EU nations have always been friendly partners. But The Sun's version is closer to the reality. Britain has always been in the EU awkward squad, driving the others to distraction, holding up its great showpiece summits with its footling complaints about this and that, seeking exceptions and exemptions for the UK from various EU diktats.
If the EU is a club, as has often been said, the UK has been its most troublesome member.
This did not start, as you might expect, with grocer's daughter Margaret Thatcher going there waving her handbag and demanding her loaf back - that is, asking for a rebate for Britain - but with Labour in the 1970s.
John Silkin, Labour's agriculture minister in the Jim Callaghan administration, made an impression with his hard-nosed negotiating tactics. One official of the European Economic Community, as it was then, said: "He is so unpredictable. When he says no, he means no."
Mr Hammond's slip aside, the Brexit talks are still at the stage of presentational civility, despite the deep frustrations in the background.
Theresa May's dinner in Brussels with Jean-Claude Juncker was described as "constructive and friendly" and pictures show that there was lots of kissing and hugging.
As Mrs May does not come across as the kissing and hugging type, she clearly did it for Britain. It was an act beyond the call of duty, for which she will be rewarded when the time comes for her to spend more time walking in Snowdonia. She should measure herself up for ermine in preparation.
And there was a statement that they had agreed to "accelerate" the talks. It all sounds more positive, until you remember that talking to the EU is like talking to a supertanker, with which it shares similar traits of flexibility, imagination, and ability deftly to change direction and speed.
Mrs May's headache is intensified by problems back home largely of her own making through the general election result which left her significantly weaker in the Commons.
As the negotiations have bogged down, the domestic heckling has increased, with the criticism directed by the British opposition against the British government, rather than against the EU.
Labour faces its own critics who say that its Brexit policy is opaque and inconsistent, whereas on the contrary, it is clear and simple - take advantage of the government's difficulties, stir things up, and when the time comes, precipitate a vote to force another general election.
For Jeremy Corbyn, it is dreamland. He can even look at the sun (but not The Sun) and see it's gone a shade of red.