Von der Leyen was like a beaming headmistress boasting about her star pupil Rishi: HENRY DEEDES watches the Prime Minister’s Brexit deal press conference
Rishi Sunak arrived at the press conference today wearing a tight little smile. Not one of his Persil-white dazzlers: no, this was something more serene, more subtle – more a look that quietly squeaked ‘I’ve been a very clever boy’.
The class swot who’s just been crowned school chess champion.
He stared hard into the camera and announced solemnly that he was ‘pleased to report that we have now made a decisive breakthrough’. How very satisfying those words must have been to utter.
After months of endless to-ing and fro-ing, of major rows and backroom bickering, of threats and counter-threats, a deal on the mind-boggling Northern Ireland protocol was finally in the bag.
On the outside he was coolness personified. Inside, though, he must have felt not so much like the cat who’d got the cream but also a portion of the richest sherry trifle to go with it. The puff of white smoke had appeared over Windsor an hour before at around 2.30pm when news leaked that a deal had been done.
Rishi Sunak arrived at the press conference today wearing a tight little smile. Not one of his Persil-white dazzlers: no, this was something more serene, more subtle – more a look that quietly squeaked ‘I’ve been a very clever boy’
Prime Minister Rishi Sunak and European Commission president Ursula von der Leyen during a press conference at the Guildhall in Windsor, Berkshire, following the announcement that they have struck a deal over the Northern Ireland Protocol
More likely it had been struck days ago, in some drab negotiating room in Brussels over slightly stale digestives and tepid mineral water. The arrival of EU President Ursula von der Leyen in London yesterday morning was nothing more than a formality – a straightforward case of dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s.
Yet for all the theatrics there was no denying that this was a defining moment in Mr Sunak’s premiership. The setting for their joint announcement was a stately room inside Windsor Guildhall, all grand portraits and crystal chandeliers.
The PM had on one of his figure-hugging suits and a skinny blue tie, not a hair on his immaculately oiled barnet out of place. Frau von der Leyen, sporting her own perfect blonde coiffure, wore olive green and radiated that smiling, lavender-scented grandeur unique to Brussels’ big fromages.
As the two protagonists swept into the room and positioned themselves behind their lecterns, you could sense the air of triumphant self-satisfaction blowing in behind them. What followed was the slightly unctuous language of international diplomacy – treacle-laden platitudes which can feel about as genuine as a car salesman’s compliment. But there was real warmth on show, easy smiles and understanding glances, mutual respect between technocrats.
The PM admitted that negotiations with the EU had ‘not always been easy’. Britain and Brussels had had their differences in the past, but he now looked forward to starting a ‘new chapter in our friendship’. He singled out von der Leyen for her ‘vision’.
On more than one occasion she referred to the PM as ‘Dear Rishi’. Patronising? I think not. I found it endearing. A beaming headmistress boasting about her star pupil. I can assure readers that she certainly never referred to ‘Dear Boris’ when Bojo was in office
On the face it, the deal sounded a good ‘un: A promise of a ‘smooth flow of trade’ between mainland Britain and Northern Ireland. Only UK VAT, customs and medicines rules would now apply in the province. Yes, the dreaded European Court of Justice would be the final arbiter on trade disputes but a ‘Stormont Brake’ would mean laws could not be forced on Northern Ireland.
Plenty of red meat there for die-hard Brexiteers to chew on. Ursula von der Leyen was effusive in her praise of Sunak and in her manner decidedly more winning than that of her thirsty predecessor, Jean-Claude Juncker, always so determined to make Britain pay for daring to turn its back on him and the rest of his smug, non-elected chums. Indeed, it sounded as though Ursula and Rishi had hit it off from the moment they met.
They’d seen ‘eye-to-eye’ on Ukraine and had made a pledge to remain honest with each other throughout their talks. On more than one occasion she referred to the PM as ‘Dear Rishi’. Patronising? I think not. I found it endearing.
A beaming headmistress boasting about her star pupil. I can assure readers that she certainly never referred to ‘Dear Boris’ when Bojo was in office. Then, with a neatly choreographed shake of hands, that was it. Job done. Well not quite. All that fluff and flummery was the easy bit.
Next stop for Rishi: Oh, just the small matter of selling the deal to his hardline MPs in the Commons… watch this space!
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