Imagine an opportunity to rerun the EU referendum vote – effectively the demand of last weekend’s marchers – with the distinct possibility of another outcome, and the stomach-churning anxiety involved for both sides. Now imagine reliving the whole thing already knowing the outcome would be the same. Why would you put yourself through it? Why did I?
On the second anniversary of the Brexit vote, BBC Parliament offered viewers another opportunity to watch the Beeb’s coverage of referendum night – all 11 hours of it – but during the day, beginning at 9.55am.
“Good evening and welcome to the end of this momentous day,” said David Dimbleby, two years after the polls closed. You might justifiably consider this a poor way to spend a sunny Saturday in June.
You are immediately reminded that 23 June 2016 was actually a terrible day, with torrential rain and flash flooding. It is the first of many what-if questions this rerun prompts: what if the weather had been better in London and the south-west?
Even after all this time, it is like being poised at the start of a rollercoaster ride. A young-looking Jeremy Vine stands in a CGI Downing Street, explaining in some detail why it is all much less complicated than it seems – with a referendum, only the tally matters.
In the absence of any numbers, two pieces of news are being chewed over: the first, that 84 Tory MPs have just signed a letter insisting David Cameron should stay on as PM whatever the result – the so-called “Save Dave” letter; the second is that the pound is soaring as markets bet on remain.
Some fuzzy footage arrives of Nigel Farage after his early and now notorious concession, telling supporters he thinks the government’s extension of the registration deadline will clinch it for remain. “I hope I’m wrong,” he says. Farage, like the other main players in the referendum, is almost an off-stage character in the coverage. Michael Gove and Boris Johnson never appear. Theresa May is neither seen nor mentioned. Instead, we have a giddy Iain Duncan Smith, thinking, perhaps, that punditry might be his future. It won’t.
Finally, a result: Gibraltar goes heavily for remain – expected and, in the scheme of things, no big deal. In the studio, Alastair Campbell sounds a prescient note of scepticism: “I don’t believe the bookies and the markets always get it right,” he says. At this stage, most of the chatter is about the dangers of a too-narrow remain win, and the need to heal divisions. Commentators refer to remain and leave camps, or just in and out, but nobody uses the word Brexit. Not yet.
In hindsight, you can see it’s all over with the first big results: Newcastle votes remain, but by a surprisingly slender margin; Sunderland comes out for leave, by a lot. Analyst Prof John Curtice says that “maybe the champagne’s gone back in the fridge” at remain HQ. Jeremy Vine says: “Don’t anyone go to bed yet.”
At 12.45am, a cliff-faced graph of the pound tanking is displayed, but there is only one really compelling number: the one in the corner showing the lead changing hands. At 1.19am (lunchtime for me), leave creeps up to 25,869 while Dimbleby and guests discuss Cameron’s future. Somebody mentions article 50 for the first time. By 1.45am, the words “Close result expected” have become a permanent feature of the banner at the bottom of the screen. David Davis makes an ill-advised joke about shorting sterling.
“A senior Labour figure has just contacted me to say that leave is going to win,” says Laura Kuenssberg.
But then, at 2.23am, the lead changes hands again. It is possible that Newcastle and Sunderland were outliers. Fewer than a tenth of the voting centres have reported, and hardly any from London. Even now, two years later, I find myself thinking that remain could still pull it out of the bag.
Some time after 3am, Jacob Rees-Mogg turns up to say: “There will be no recession because of Brexit.” Nor is he worried about our relationship with Europe. “We are their biggest customer,” he says. “It’s hugely in their interest to trade with us.”
At 4am, Farage appears from the shadows to call the vote “a victory for decent people”, adding that “we will have done it without a single bullet being fired”. It is a remarkably crass thing to say a week after the murder of MP Jo Cox.
But at 4.40am, the BBC declares a leave win. It would be a good moment to go to bed, if it weren’t teatime. It is the stage of the rollercoaster ride where the cars stop and you’re left waiting for the attendant to lift up your safety bar. There are hours to go before the climax we know is coming: Cameron’s resignation. The gap is mostly filled with a succession of pissed-off remainers apportioning blame, ashen-faced Brexiters calling for calm and ex-Cameron adviser Steve Hilton being optimistically woolly about the whole thing. Even without the benefit of hindsight, it is clear all the wrong people think the result is good news.
Shortly after 6.15am, a bulletin contains the first non-Brexit news item of the night: the weather forecast for the coming day. It’s going to be lovely.
