Could “metroism” heal our divided Britain?

Eleven months ago, people who had never voted before were heatedly debating the importance of sovereignty and our membership of the single market; now even hardcore politicos are bored sick at the prospect of a snap general election.

The thrill has been sucked out of British politics.

The Conservatives are expecting a landslide victory precisely because they have embraced this. Theresa May is not trying to sell Brexit as the shining solution to all our problems wrapped up in a gingham table cloth, but instead has personified the view that there is a job to be done and it may as well be done properly. According to a recent You Gov poll 43% of the country believe that Brexit was the wrong decision, but only 21% now want to see the referendum result overturned or ignored. We are looking for confident, dull solidity to see us through, and the “Stong and Stable” mantra, irritating as it may be, has hit the nail right on the head.

The division theatrically exposed by the referendum may be bandaged up by a Conservative landslide, but truly reunifying a nation cleaved in two will take more than half the population wearily resigning themselves to the inevitable. The referendum was explosive because it made us question what Britain stands for and where we belong, and it is that sort of passion that must be channelled back into British politics.

At the extreme ends of the spectrum, there was a striking similarity between Leavers and Remainers: a desire to find common ground with our neighbours. While the most zealous Remainers built a “love chain” with Rome and Paris, the most ardent Leavers fervently explained to anyone who would listen that British people are islanders at heart, bound together in a way mainland Europe cannot possibly understand. The definition of the neighbourhood varies dramatically, but longing to be a part of one is universal.

Now, a new definition of neighbourhood is emerging, one which could bridge the gap between Europeanists and Nationalists and make referendum divisions history. The election of London’s Sadiq Khan last year and the six new metro mayors last week has catalyzed the rise of Metroism: the sense of belonging to a city.

In David Goodhart’s new book, The Road to Somewhere, he splits the population of modern Britain into two categories, the Anywheres and the Somewheres. The liberal-minded Anywheres are “citizens of the world”, people working for global organisations, campaigning for the rights of those on other continents, and crossing borders like they’re going out of fashion (which in their minds, they are). The traditional Somewheres identify themselves as belonging to a particular nation, and would define their community as those living nearest to them, as opposed to those who share the same beliefs.

Metroism blurs the binary between the two by offering something for both. Anywheres are naturally drawn to urban areas in general because they provide variety and diversity. To them, cities are attractive precisely because they are not culturally homogenous.

But engagement with Sadiq Khan’s #LondonisOpen campaign, (the hashtag is used hundreds of times a day), shows that Anywheres can actually feel loyalty to a specific city when it acts as a window to the rest of the world. With the strong character of the mayor acting as a rudder, the Anywheres are anchoring themselves to a specific location: London.

The binding force of Metroism is even stronger in Birmingham, where a population split clean in half on the referendum question has just elected Andy Street as mayor, whose appeal to both Anywheres and Somewheres is exemplified by his plan to reintroduce the Birmingham Superprix to the city.

The superprix, an annual motor racing meeting held at the heart of Birmingham between 1986 and 1990, is remembered fondly by the more nostalgic Somewheres as a traditional Brummie event enjoyed by young and old in the local community. By pairing the reinstallation with an annual Mayor’s Community Day (which would include litter picking and help for vulnerable old people) and marketing both under the umbrella of a plan “to restore pride in the region”, Street is tugging firmly on the heartstrings of your typical “proud Brummie” (a phrase he frequently uses to describe himself).

But the new superprix will have a twist. Street plans to make the West Midlands a “global centre for electric and driverless vehicles” and will use the revival of the tradition as an opportunity to showcase Birmingham’s manufacturing skills to the rest of the world. Couple this with his proposal to create a “digital skills centre”, which would bring digital jobs to Birmingham, and it’s pretty clear that Street has globalisation – and the Anywheres – on his mind.

If Street can realise his ambitions for the city of Birmingham, both Anywheres and Somewheres will unite around him.

Across the country, passion ignited by the referendum is dormant and homeless. In Cambridgeshire and Peterborough, Manchester, Liverpool, Tees Valley, The West of England, the West Midlands and London, seven charismatic men (unfortunately no women this time around) with real plans and real budgets are about to lead their cities through the turmoil of Brexit.

Perhaps Metroism is the missing piece of the puzzle which will unite our “divided Britain”.