Richard Tice

It is a pleasure to serve under your chairmanship, Ms McVey. This week will go down in parliamentary history as the week of the greatest surrender. It was bookended by the surrendering at the beginning of the week of the valuable freedoms won from the European Union through the joys of Brexit, and by today’s surrendering of our valuable freehold of the Chagos islands, on which there will be a statement later. I think many members of the British public will be confused, because last week the Government were talking about the joys of the freedoms of Brexit—to be able to do trade deals with India and with the United States—but, all of a sudden, this week they have gone back to the fog of surrender by handcuffing us very closely to the European Union. There is a rule in business that has been deployed many times by parliamentarians: nothing is agreed until everything is agreed. Normally with the EU there is a last-minute drama, but this time was different, because little was agreed and everything was conceded. That is the bottom line. Little has actually been agreed, and everything has been conceded in an extraordinary act of surrender. To use another expression, it is the thin end of the wedge. The EU cannot believe its luck; it has opened the door and stuck the little wedge in there, and it has now got lots of things that it is still negotiating on. Every time, its representatives will say, “Well, you’ve got to agree this before we move on to the next one.” We have heard it all before, yet the Government have learned nothing. The first surrender is very dear to my constituents in Boston. My fishermen are raging and furious because they assumed that after the end of this first-phase deal, more quotas would be negotiated back to the UK, they would be beneficiaries and we would take back more control of our waters. Instead, it is all been conceded—for 12 years. It is gone.