This is what we really think about Brexit in Germany

I reacted to Brexit in the same way that any other liberal continental European would, or did. I was confused, upset, angry, disappointed. As a journalist I also felt frustrated. When you suddenly have the feeling that a country which exercises freedom of the press makes a decision that potentially jeopardises its own wellbeing, then journalism has somehow failed.

During the referendum campaign I tried to gain a deeper understanding of what it was about being German that made me respond to it the way I did. I am very sceptical of journalists who claim their reports are objective. I do believe in facts, just to be clear on that. But I think an approximation of objectivity can only be achieved if the subjective narrator – in this case the journalist – understands, acknowledges and reveals their own subjective viewpoint.

The majority of my colleagues in the UK make their opinion on certain issues very clear, whereas in Germany, many journalists still believe that they can tell a story “as it really was”, even though modern media studies usually reject this. But my delight in reading the wonderfully straightforward and very entertaining views of the British press gradually began to fade away when my attention was diverted to mass provocation in right-wing publications. Stirring up hatred can never be the function of journalism.

In how far what you write about something or someone is as revealing about you as about what you are describing is something I dealt with while working on numerous different topics as a correspondent in Germany, France and East Asia.

When I arrived in the UK I had to learn that large sections of the Conservative Party talk similarly to Nigel Farage. And though it contradicted everything I had ever heard about trade negotiations – especially with China – this is a country in which leading politicians appeared to seriously believe they would be better off making a deal with China than to be represented alongside other markets. That baffled me.

It was easy to understand the position of those anti-Europeans left economically deprived by globalisation and, I would claim, by their own government. Many really believe things can’t get any worse for them, and travelling throughout the Midlands and Wales it is quite easy to see why.

The biggest challenge for me was to try and understand those Brexiteers who enjoy all of the advantages that come with belonging to the EU but still decided to demonise it for being either a socialist conspiracy or a particularly grotesque embodiment of capitalism.

In a more or less desperate attempt to view the situation more objectively, I visualised to what extent the EU is an institution particularly profitable to Germany, politically and economically, and the way it has been glorified by the Germans throughout recent history. I came to realise how distorted the German view of the EU is – distorted by affection, as opposed to the hostility I was observing in the UK.

For the vast majority of Germans, being European is seen as a perfect way of being a good German. Europe to us has always meant a widening of horizons; a shining future in exchange for a dark past. Its political benefit is obvious, but what is discussed less often is the economic advantage the EU offers Germany, sometimes at the expense of others.

The issue of how far this economic benefit is behind our supposed non-material admiration for the EU is discussed even less. When it became clear the UK, on reviewing its cost-benefit calculation, considered the EU to be unprofitable, it was perceived by the Germans as a narcissistic insult.

As a German you are used to people not wanting to have anything to do with Germany, but rejecting the European Union, specifically the idea of European solidarity, is so difficult to understand it is almost unforgivable, mainly, of course, because Europe saved us.

Germany was a nation rescued from fascism by the Brits (among others) and, despite the fact, quite rightly, Germany found itself at the very bottom of every national ranking it was once again allowed to have a say – make decisions even. Europe helped Germany gradually make its way back into the circle of civilised nations and that is why renouncing the EU is considered particularly unsettling.

That is one reason. The other is that the EU was an institutionalisation of a painful recognition in the wake of the Second World War – nationalism was the origin of fascism. It was to embody the fact conflict is best avoided through co-operation and by considering everyone as equal. It is difficult to see Brexit as anything other than an expression of a feeling of superiority; we’re better off without you. Because we are better.

Despite how surprising the result of the EU referendum was for almost everyone including Boris Johnson (reassuringly, most of my British colleagues were as stunned as I was) it was still possible to make sense of it and after months of reading, interviewing and reporting I felt well prepared. We had made visits to every corner of the country for our documentary Das gespaltene Königreich (The disunited Kingdom).

We travelled through Northern Ireland, Scotland, the South of England and the Midlands, where very often not a single person had anything positive to say about the EU and believed it was responsible for all problems facing the UK – unemployment, lack of integration, low wages, overcrowded schools and hospitals, traffic and the downfall of British industry.

I was genuinely shocked by the state of some of the towns, and by the many people I met who felt neglected and who were now driven by resentment. It made me feel very German because I longingly thought of the bundesfinanzausgleich (equalisation payment mechanism), a system that aims at balancing the wealth of the Bundesländer and leads to a fairer distribution of funds throughout the country.

Whenever I returned to London from these trips I gave a truthful report of how it seemed increasingly unlikely that the UK would remain in the EU. But always, after a few days back in London and some time to soak up the predominantly pro-European sentiment, and the analyses by political economists that “people will always vote for economic security” I found myself back in the safe familiarity of the bubble. I even put down 52 per cent for Remain in our office bet. Since we are predominantly German, we didn’t put any money in. Luckily.

My reluctance to believe in what I had seen and heard, rather than what seemed sensible to me, may also explain why certain aspects of our reporting to Germany from the UK didn’t really sink in. Denial. Not because of the echo-chamber phenomenon, and not because we manipulated what was happening in any way, but because the average German views Brexit with even more disbelief than a German correspondent in the UK.

I don’t know how often I and my colleagues told audiences of millions that, yes, the Brits have voted for Brexit and it will happen. Yet in Germany there is still the unfaltering belief that the Brits deeply regret what has happened. The days succeeding the referendum result only reinforced this belief.

The German audience watched the mass desertion by those who would have been responsible for seeing it through – Cameron, Farage, Johnson, Gove. This, and the soundbites from one or two taxi drivers grumbling that probably nothing would change for them anyway, consolidated the opinion that someone would somehow realise what a fatal error it all was and would straighten things out again. Even in February this year a news presenter asked me: Is there really no going back?

No. Even on June 24 there was no going back. But the way it seems to be developing is not starting to gnaw away at the well-meaning belief of the German Europhile. They are also refusing to believe it in Scotland, which leads German news anchors to ask foreign correspondents like me: Would the Scots rather stay with us (in the EU)?

Us against them. This was the message the Leave campaign sent out. The most serious piece of collateral damage in the fallout of the referendum is that nationalism in Great Britain has fuelled that of other countries. Tit for tat. Bizarrely those promoting this ideology don’t seem to understand it. How else is it possible to explain why Theresa May would announce during her speech at Lancaster House that she was ready to wave goodbye to the single market, at the same time convinced the EU would offer the UK a good deal.

Her reasoning: “I do not believe that the EU’s leaders will seriously tell German exporters, French farmers, Spanish fishermen, the young unemployed of the eurozone, and millions of others, that they want to make them poorer, just to punish Britain and make a political point.” This coming from Britain, a safe refuge for pragmatism, the understatement and ironic distance.

Of all people the Brits, who the Germans admire and envy for so many things, have fired the starting pistol on an era of post-truth. Four million people voted for Nigel Farage in the last election, 17 million were seduced by Boris Johnson and convinced by Michael Gove that we have all had enough of experts. They will now be drawn into a Brexit à la Theresa May which, in my view, is likely to be most damaging to anyone who does not belong to the ultra-rich elite.

The role of the UK media in the referendum was very educational. As mentioned, I very much admire British journalism in general, but as soon as things started to become serious, it wasn’t much fun anymore. Its very partisan nature eventually came to dominate both sides of the campaign making it seem as though it was okay to leave out factual arguments.

That was one extreme. But the post-referendum discussion surrounding the BBC was even more revealing. In an attempt to occupy the middle ground throughout the debate the BBC was then accused its reporting had been “too balanced”.

This is a lesson I hope will be learned in Germany, especially now we are preparing for general elections in September. Breitbart news hasn’t made its debut in Germany yet, and there is much doubt as to whether the concept will catch on there, simply because of the media’s very different perception of itself and its role.

The lesson I have learned from the UK media and from Brexit also leaves me thinking it would be much more beneficial for German mass media to take on clear positions. Now, more than in a long time, a journalist who is, as a result of professional research and investigation of their own subjectivity, convinced of the fatal consequences of a certain political path has a responsibility to make it known.

Translated by Elizabeth Moseley

Brexit,Trump and the media is edited by John Mair, Tor Clark, Neil Fowler, Raymond Snoddy OBE and Richard Tait CBE and published by Abramis, Bury St Edmunds

Available to Independent readers for a special price of £19.95 by emailing Richard@abramis.co.uk