Every day it will be more clear that we cannot be alone.
A decade after steering the EU through its most consequential rupture, Michel Barnier now speaks not as an adversary but as a patient witness to history's longer arc. From his seat in the French National Assembly, the former Brexit negotiator suggests that Britain's return to the European Union remains structurally possible — and that the turbulence of a fragmenting world may yet make it inevitable. His words carry the weight of someone who watched a great nation choose exit over influence, and who believes the reckoning is still unfolding.
- Barnier reveals that a rejoining UK could retain its pre-Brexit opt-outs from the euro and Schengen, directly contradicting years of warnings that departure meant permanent loss of special status.
- He is unsparing about Brexit's aftermath: weakened growth, a poisoned immigration debate, and a Brussels-as-scapegoat strategy that has finally run out of road.
- The specter of Le Pen, Bardella, and Salvini haunts any flexibility Brussels might offer London — any bending of rules risks handing far-right movements their most powerful argument yet.
- Barnier is quietly building a European Council for Defence and Security to bind the EU, UK, Ukraine, and Norway together — reviving an architecture Johnson once dangled and then abandoned.
- At seventy-five, he speaks with the calm certainty of someone watching a tide: day by day, he believes, the cost of Britain standing alone will become impossible to ignore.
Michel Barnier receives visitors in the National Assembly, where he now represents a Paris constituency, and speaks about Boris Johnson with the measured curiosity of a man who once spent a weekend walking forest paths with Johnson's father at a French château. Through those conversations, Barnier came to understand what drove the former prime minister: not conviction, he suggests, but a pragmatic — even cynical — pursuit of power.
For four years, Barnier sat across from a revolving series of British negotiators in Brussels, hosting everyone from Tony Blair to Nigel Farage. He looks back on that period with something like wistfulness, though he is clear-eyed about what followed. Britain's economic growth has faltered, immigration has become politically toxic, and the old reflex of blaming Brussels has lost its credibility. What still baffles him is that a country with such considerable influence inside the EU chose to leave rather than stay and reshape it from within.
On the prospect of Britain returning, Barnier is more open than many expected. He believes the opt-outs Britain held before 2016 — exemptions from the euro and the Schengen zone — could survive a rejoining. The Thatcher-era budget rebate is a different matter; the EU's principle of solidarity, he suggests, would make that harder to restore.
His openness is tempered by a sharp political warning. Having served briefly as France's prime minister before being brought down by a coalition of the far right and the left, Barnier understands viscerally how any perceived rule-bending by Brussels could fuel movements like Le Pen's or Salvini's. The EU's survival, he argues, depends on its integrity holding.
Meanwhile, Barnier is working to build a new European Council for Defence and Security — a framework that would draw the UK, Ukraine, and Norway into closer military and technological cooperation with the EU. It is, in part, a revival of ideas Johnson once floated and then quietly dropped. Barnier recalls a dinner where Johnson offered defence cooperation as a consolation for a failed trade deal, apparently unaware his own team had already ruled it out.
At seventy-five, Barnier speaks about Britain's eventual return not as a hope but as a logic. The world is becoming more dangerous and more fragile, he says, and no country — not France, not Germany, not Britain — can afford to stand entirely alone. The question, in his telling, is not whether the UK will reconsider, but how much it will cost before it does.
Michel Barnier sits in a splendid meeting room in the National Assembly, where he now represents a Paris constituency, and recalls a weekend spent in a nineteenth-century French château with Boris Johnson's father. The visit came about through family connections—Barnier's wife is close friends with Johnson's French cousin, who owns Château de la Baronnière in western France. Over long walks through the forest, Barnier and Stanley Johnson discussed what drove the former prime minister to champion Brexit. "Boris was much more European at the beginning," Barnier remembers. "Even if he was critical. I don't see it as a motivation but it is, perhaps, a method or attitude: to be pragmatic in some way. Cynical. Cynical to get power."
A decade earlier, Barnier had been handed one of the EU's most grueling assignments. Jean-Claude Juncker, then the European Commission president, asked him to lead the bloc's negotiating team after the 2016 referendum. For four years, Barnier sat across from a rotating cast of British counterparts—David Davis, Dominic Raab, Steve Barclay, David Frost—in his fifth-floor office at the EU's Brussels headquarters. He hosted Tony Blair, Nigel Farage, and the hardline Conservative rebels of the European Research Group. "Great times," he says now with a wistful smile, though few would argue that greatness followed Britain's departure.
Barnier is unsparing in his assessment of what came after. The UK's economic growth has weakened, immigration has become a toxic political issue, and the scapegoating of Brussels has become impossible to sustain. "The great lie was to say that everything was due to Brussels," he says. "Mr Farage is still winning some elections but he has no longer the capacity to say the fault is in Brussels." He acknowledges the EU's own historical failings—too many directives, insufficient border security—but insists Britain was equally complicit. What mystifies him is that the UK, with its considerable influence, chose to leave rather than stay and reform. "I still don't understand why the UK, which always had a very strong influence, left rather than use its influence to correct the EU—it is for me incomprehensible."
On the question of whether Britain might one day return, Barnier offers a surprising answer. Contrary to claims that rejoining would mean surrendering the opt-outs Britain had negotiated before 2016—exemptions from the euro and the Schengen passport-free travel zone—he believes those arrangements could be preserved. "It is perfectly possible," he says. He is less certain about Margaret Thatcher's budget rebate, which reduced Britain's financial contributions. "The DNA of the EU is solidarity," he notes, suggesting that particular privilege might not survive a return.
Yet Barnier's openness comes with a sharp caveat. He is acutely aware that Europe faces a far-right resurgence. A presidential election looms in France, and Marine Le Pen or Jordan Bardella could plausibly win. Matteo Salvini leads in Italy. Any flexibility Brussels showed toward Britain would hand these movements a potent argument: that the EU bends its rules for the powerful while ordinary Europeans bear the cost. "If they destroy the EU, then every European country is lost," Barnier warns. He served as France's prime minister for three months in 2024 before the National Rally and the left-wing New Popular Front voted to bring down his government. The experience has given him a new sympathy for Theresa May's parliamentary struggles.
Barnier is now working to establish a European Council for Defence and Security that would bind together the EU, the UK, Ukraine, and Norway in military and technological cooperation. It echoes a political declaration from 2019 that Johnson later abandoned. Barnier recalls a dinner with Johnson and Ursula von der Leyen, the European Commission president, where Johnson dangled the prospect of defense cooperation as a consolation prize for a failed trade deal. When Barnier reminded him that such cooperation had already been ruled out, Johnson turned to his team with a shrug: "Who decided this?" Barnier never believed Johnson's threats to walk away without a deal. When asked if he was impressed by Johnson's negotiator David Frost, Barnier pauses and asks his aide for the name—then says nothing, raising a Gallic eyebrow.
At seventy-five, Barnier does not know how long he will live, but he believes the logic of rejoin will eventually become undeniable. "I think day after day the British people will see in the current world that it is more dangerous, more fragile, more unstable, that we cannot be alone. It is true for France, it is true for Germany, it is true for everyone. Every day it will be more clear." The world is fragmenting. The EU, for all its flaws, remains the only architecture capable of holding Europe together. Britain may yet come back—but only when the cost of standing apart becomes impossible to bear.
Citas Notables
The great lie was to say that everything was due to Brussels. All these problems are more difficult because of Brexit.— Michel Barnier
I still don't understand why the UK, which always had a very strong influence, left rather than use its influence to correct the EU—it is for me incomprehensible.— Michel Barnier
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
You spent a weekend with Stanley Johnson discussing his son's motivations. What did you actually learn about why Boris backed Brexit?
That it was less about conviction and more about method. Boris was always European, even critical of Europe, but he saw Brexit as a tool—a way to consolidate power. Pragmatism mixed with cynicism.
You negotiated for four years. Did you ever think Johnson would actually walk away without a deal?
No. His threats were theater. When he tried to use defense cooperation as a consolation prize, he'd already ruled it out months before. He knew it. I knew it. It was performance.
What puzzles you most about the whole thing?
That Britain had real influence inside the EU and chose to leave rather than stay and fix what was broken. Why abandon the table when you have a seat at it? It remains incomprehensible to me.
You're suggesting Britain could rejoin with its old opt-outs intact. Isn't that rewarding failure?
Not if the world becomes unstable enough that isolation becomes untenable. The EU's DNA is solidarity, yes, but it's also pragmatism. If Britain comes back, it will be because staying out costs more than coming in.
But you won't give that flexibility now, even to Keir Starmer?
Absolutely not. The far right in France, Italy, everywhere—they're waiting for any sign that Brussels bends for the powerful. If I give Britain special treatment today, I hand Marine Le Pen a weapon tomorrow. The EU itself depends on that consistency.
Do you think Britain will rejoin in your lifetime?
I don't know how long I'll live. But every day the world grows more dangerous, more fragile. Eventually the British will see what the French and Germans already know: we cannot be alone. It will become clear.