The EU cannot afford to unravel the single market for special arrangements
A decade after Britain's departure from the European Union, the question of proximity between London and Brussels has returned with new urgency — and new complications. The UK's seventh prime minister since the 2016 referendum inherits negotiations seeking closer single market access, while Brussels holds firm against any arrangement that might signal to its own restless eurosceptic movements that the bloc's rules are negotiable. The real drama, however, lies not in the bilateral relationship but in whether the EU itself — stronger in public approval yet more fragile in political leadership — can hold its shape against nationalist forces gathering strength from Paris to Warsaw.
- Britain's revolving door of prime ministers has made Brussels weary but adaptive — the EU has now outlasted seven UK leaders since the referendum, and it will negotiate with whoever comes next.
- The core tension remains unchanged: the UK wants single market benefits without free movement or budget obligations, and Brussels considers this the same unacceptable cherry-picking it rejected a decade ago.
- The deeper alarm in Brussels is not Britain but the 2027 elections — if eurosceptic parties take power in France, Italy, Spain, and Poland simultaneously, the EU could be reshaped from within far more profoundly than Brexit ever threatened from without.
- A counterforce is visible in the data: 62% of EU citizens now view the bloc positively, up from 49% in 2016, as Europeans watched Britain's post-referendum chaos and quietly concluded that leaving was too costly a gamble.
- The EU finds itself in a paradox — more popular than it has been in a decade, yet led by weakened traditional figures, with nationalist parties that have learned to speak the language of national interest more fluently than ever before.
Ten years after the Brexit vote, the question of how close Britain should draw to the EU has returned to the centre of British politics — and the calculus has shifted in ways neither side anticipated.
Sir Keir Starmer's resignation, the seventh prime ministerial departure since the 2016 referendum, left behind a set of EU negotiations his government had launched with considerable ambition: to dismantle the post-Brexit regulatory barriers dragging on the British economy. Brussels, long accustomed to British instability, has learned to absorb the churn. Michel Barnier, the EU's former chief Brexit negotiator, noted that he had faced four different British counterparts during those original talks. He would work with whoever came next. But on substance, he was immovable: the UK's request for single market access without free movement or budget contributions was the same cherry-picking the EU had refused a decade ago. The single market, he argued, was the bloc's crown jewel — and in a more dangerous world, no special arrangement for a non-member could be permitted to unravel it.
The reason Brussels holds this line so firmly is inseparable from a threat far larger than Britain. Eurosceptic parties are surging across the continent. France's National Rally is polling strongly ahead of a presidential election. Austria's Freedom Party holds power. Germany's AfD gains ground. An MEP close to Marine Le Pen's leadership told me that 2027 could be a turning point — if the RN wins France's presidency and like-minded parties take power in Italy, Spain, and Poland, the EU's shape could change from within. The precedent of Hungary, where Viktor Orbán has repeatedly paralysed collective EU decisions, suggests what a eurosceptic France — wielding vastly more influence — might accomplish.
Yet the picture is not simply one of decline. After Brexit, many predicted a domino effect of departures. None materialised. Watching Britain's years of political chaos, EU citizens drew their own conclusions. A new Pew Research survey finds 62% now view the EU positively, up from 49% in 2016. Countries are clamouring to join rather than leave, with Ukraine the most insistent. The bloc is simultaneously more popular and more politically fragile — stronger in public sentiment, weaker in its traditional leadership.
For Britain's next prime minister, the negotiating terrain is therefore more treacherous than it appears. Brussels will not compromise on the single market's integrity, not out of spite, but because any concession would hand ammunition to the very forces threatening to reshape the EU from within. Until Britain decides with clarity and consistency what it actually wants — the benefits of membership without its obligations, or something more honest — Brussels will wait. The carousel keeps turning. Europe is no longer watching to see if Britain will return. It is watching to see if the EU itself will hold.
Ten years after Britain voted to leave the European Union, the question of how close the UK should draw to Brussels has returned to the centre of British politics—and this time, the calculus has shifted in ways neither side anticipated.
When Sir Keir Starmer announced his resignation on Monday, he left behind a set of negotiations with the EU that his Labour government had initiated with considerable fanfare. The stated goal was straightforward: dismantle the post-Brexit regulatory barriers that have weighed on the British economy. But Starmer's departure—the seventh prime ministerial change in the decade since the 2016 referendum—underscores a pattern that has become grimly familiar to Brussels. The EU watched Britain collapse into years of political turmoil after the vote, a country that had once been regarded as the continent's most stable democracy now spinning through successive crises. Michel Barnier, who spent four years as the EU's chief negotiator during the Brexit talks and now sits as a centre-right MP in the French parliament, put it plainly when I met him at his office near the Palais Bourbon: the EU would work with whoever Britain's next prime minister turned out to be. He had faced four different British negotiators during those long, fractious negotiations. Instability was something Brussels had learned to absorb.
Yet the substance of what Britain is now asking for—closer access to the EU single market without accepting free movement of workers or matching budget contributions—is the same request the EU rejected a decade ago. Brussels calls this cherry-picking, and Barnier was as firm on this point as he had been during the original negotiations. The single market, he insisted, was the EU's crown jewel, and in a world grown more dangerous and unstable, the bloc could not afford to unravel it for special arrangements with non-member states. To do so, he argued, would only embolden the eurosceptic parties already gaining strength across the continent—parties that saw any compromise as proof that the EU's rules were negotiable, that leaving or weakening the bloc was a viable option.
This is where the story pivots from Britain's internal drama to a threat that keeps Brussels awake at night. The world has transformed since 2016. The United States, once Europe's anchor, has become unpredictable under Donald Trump. Russia is waging kinetic war in Ukraine and hybrid warfare across the continent. China looms. And within the EU itself, nationalist parties are surging. In France, Marine Le Pen's National Rally is polling better than ever before a presidential election. In Germany, the AfD gains ground. In Austria, the Freedom Party holds power. Fabrice Leggeri, an MEP close to Le Pen's leadership, told me in the crowded café at the European Parliament in Brussels that 2027 would be a turning point. If the RN wins France's presidency—and the French president wields enormous influence over EU foreign policy—and if like-minded eurosceptic parties gain power in Italy, Spain, and Poland, the shape of the EU itself could change from within.
What makes this scenario plausible is the precedent of Hungary. Viktor Orbán, leading a far smaller country, had repeatedly frozen common EU decisions and frustrated collective action. A eurosceptic France would have exponentially more leverage. Leggeri spoke of possible cooperation with Nigel Farage, the British politician who had campaigned relentlessly for Brexit and now leads the Reform party. The implication was clear: if Farage became British prime minister and the RN governed France, the two could reshape the relationship between Britain and the EU in ways that would weaken Brussels' institutional coherence.
Yet there is a counternarrative that complicates this picture. In 2016, after the Brexit vote, many predicted a domino effect—Italy would leave, then Denmark or Sweden, then France itself. Frexit, Swexit, Italexit were not fringe fantasies but serious political demands. None of it happened. According to David McAllister, a German conservative MEP, EU voters watched Britain descend into chaos after the referendum and decided the price was too high. A new Pew Research Centre survey bears this out: across the UK and seven EU member states, 62 percent now view the EU positively, compared with 49 percent a decade ago. The bloc has grown more cohesive, not less. Countries are clamouring to join—Ukraine most insistently—rather than leave.
But cohesion and vulnerability are not opposites. The EU is simultaneously stronger in public support and more fragile in its political leadership. Traditional European figures from Germany's Friedrich Merz to France's Emmanuel Macron appear weakened. The eurosceptic parties have refined their messaging, broadening their appeal beyond anti-immigration rhetoric to include demands for tougher border controls, rollbacks of green regulations they call damaging to industry, and reduced EU budget contributions. They have learned to speak the language of national interest in ways that resonate.
For the new British prime minister, the negotiating landscape is thus more complex than it might appear. Brussels will not budge on the single market's integrity—not because of spite, but because any concession would hand ammunition to the very forces threatening to reshape the EU from within. The bloc needs the UK closer, perhaps, but not at the cost of its own rules. And the UK must decide what it actually wants: the benefits of EU membership without the obligations, or something more fundamental. Until Britain answers that question with clarity and consistency, Brussels will wait. The carousel keeps turning, but Europe is no longer watching to see if Britain will rejoin. It is watching to see if the EU itself will hold.
Citações Notáveis
We have to deal with this situation and respect it. There will be a new UK prime minister and we will work with them.— Michel Barnier, EU's former chief Brexit negotiator
We are confident that 2027 is going to be a very important year, a turning point, if we win the elections in France.— Fabrice Leggeri, MEP for Marine Le Pen's National Rally
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does it matter so much to Brussels whether the UK gets a special deal? Isn't closer economic ties good for everyone?
It would be, in isolation. But Barnier's worry is that any compromise on the single market's rules becomes a precedent. If the UK can pick and choose which parts to join, why can't Hungary demand the same? Or Poland? Or a eurosceptic France? The whole structure starts to unravel.
So the EU is sacrificing economic benefit to protect its political integrity?
Exactly. And they're doing it because they've watched what happens when rules become negotiable. They've seen it with Orbán. They're terrified of seeing it with a eurosceptic France that could actually move the needle.
But the survey shows the EU is more popular now than it was in 2016. Doesn't that suggest the bloc is actually stronger?
It is stronger in public support. But that's different from being stronger in leadership. The traditional centrist figures look weak. The nationalist parties are gaining. So you have a paradox: more Europeans believe in the EU, but fewer of their elected leaders do.
What happens if the National Rally wins France in 2027?
Then you have a eurosceptic government controlling the EU's most influential nation. Leggeri was explicit about it—they'd cooperate with a Farage-led Britain to reshape the relationship. That's not a minor shift. That's structural.
Is there any scenario where the UK and EU actually find common ground?
Only if Britain stops asking for special treatment and commits to something real. But that's the opposite of what the Labour government was proposing. They wanted the perks without the price. Brussels has heard that song before.