Very few MPs disagree with the need for a withdrawal bill to

“Very few MPs disagree with the need for a withdrawal bill to enable us to disentangle our 50-year relationship with the legal structures of the European Union and to enable us to function effectively outside of it.” Thus spoke Dominic Grieve, a man of law and conscience, whose voice rose during one of the most turbulent chapters in Britain’s modern history. His words were not uttered in haste nor in partisanship—they were spoken as a craftsman speaks of his trade, as one who knows the delicate threads that bind a nation’s fabric. In this quote, Grieve captures a moment of profound transition: the unravelling of half a century of shared law and governance, and the daunting task of reweaving the threads into a new, sovereign pattern. His message is both pragmatic and timeless—that freedom requires structure, and that great change must be guided by the steady hand of reason.

Dominic Grieve, a barrister by profession and a guardian of constitutional order by calling, spoke these words as the United Kingdom stood at the threshold of its departure from the European Union—a partnership that had shaped its legal and economic life since 1973. To “disentangle” from such a bond was no simple act of politics; it was an act of surgery upon the state itself, where every law, every contract, every regulation had become interwoven with those of Europe. Grieve understood, as few did, that such a separation demanded precision, patience, and respect for the legal order that had long sustained both sides. His words were a plea for continuity amid upheaval, for the understanding that to leave lawlessly is not to reclaim sovereignty, but to imperil it.

In his statement, Grieve acknowledges a rare point of unity in a divided Parliament—that “very few MPs disagree” on the necessity of such a bill. Amid the storm of argument, this consensus shines as a reminder of shared duty. For while parties quarreled over ideology and outcome, the Withdrawal Bill itself was a vessel of necessity—a framework to ensure that the machinery of law, commerce, and governance did not collapse when the old treaties ceased to apply. It was not a weapon of partisanship, but a bridge between eras. Grieve’s words thus carry a quiet nobility: he calls upon leaders to remember that in times of transformation, the law is not an obstacle—it is the torch that lights the path forward.

In the ancient world, wise rulers and lawmakers faced similar trials when empires rose or fell. When the Roman Republic gave way to the Empire, or when kingdoms fractured and sought new alliances, it was not the sword that preserved civilization, but the scroll—the law that outlived its authors. The philosopher Cicero, whom Grieve surely admired, once wrote, “We are all servants of the law, that we may be free.” And so too, in the case of Britain’s departure from the European Union, Grieve saw that freedom without lawful transition would lead not to liberty, but to confusion and disorder. To him, the Withdrawal Bill was not merely a political instrument—it was the architecture of stability, the careful unbinding that would allow the nation to stand whole and functional once more.

Consider the story of the United States after independence. When the thirteen colonies broke away from Britain, they won their freedom through war—but nearly lost their peace through chaos. The Articles of Confederation proved too weak; the states quarreled, commerce faltered, and unity crumbled. Only when they wrote the Constitution, a new legal framework, did the young nation truly secure its independence—not through rebellion, but through reason and law. Likewise, Grieve’s warning reminds us that great revolutions are incomplete until they are bound again by legal order. To separate from one system of law, a people must build another—or risk drifting into the void.

Grieve’s quote, then, is more than commentary—it is a meditation on the eternal balance between change and continuity. He saw that leaving the European Union was not only an act of politics but an act of re-creation. For just as nations are born through covenants, so too must they be reborn through laws. His call was for unity in purpose, for wisdom over passion, and for order over chaos. He urged Parliament to see beyond partisanship and remember that the strength of Britain lies not in the swiftness of its will, but in the soundness of its institutions.

The lesson that flows from Grieve’s words is one that applies to every generation and every nation: true freedom is not found in breaking away, but in rebuilding wisely. When the old structures must fall, let them be replaced not with anger, but with law; not with pride, but with prudence. For a nation without continuity is a body without a soul, and a people without law are a people without direction.

So remember, children of the future: when change comes—as it always does—meet it not with haste, but with discipline and vision. Do not cast aside the old without understanding its purpose, and do not rush to build the new without grounding it in order. For as Dominic Grieve reminded his nation, even in times of division, there lies one sacred duty upon all leaders: to preserve the rule of law, that the land may endure through every storm, and that liberty may stand not as a cry of defiance, but as a pillar of wisdom and peace.