(3 years, 1 month ago)
Lords ChamberMy Lords, so many noble Lords know Sir David—or knew Sir David—that I shall be brief. On behalf of the Cross Benches, we respectfully and mournfully join in and associate ourselves with the expressions of condolence and sympathy to Lady Amess and her family on what is, obviously, a calamitous loss— made, I suspect, much more poignant by the time when it happened, the occasion when it happened and the cruel circumstances in which it happened.
An MP for 40 years was cut down while doing his job—an MP who, by all accounts, had that wonderful additional attribute, beyond serving the needs of every one of his constituents, of having an independent mind. Everything I have read about him tells me that he did. He was his own person, and we need Members of Parliament like that.
As I say, I did not know him. I know that the most reverend Primate the Archbishop of York will be speaking soon, and he was a personal friend, so noble Lords will want to hear from him and not me, but I must add something. Can we think about the way in which we deal with these issues ourselves? Can we reflect on the impact on the House of Commons, rather than on this place? Can we reflect—and I do, with sympathy and concern for the other place—on the troublesome paradox that it seems to require a catastrophic disaster, such as this murder or the murder of Jo Cox, to bring back to mind, and highlight before the public, the societal contribution and the contribution to the welfare of the nation that is going on with 650 elected Members of Parliament sitting in the other place? We owe them rather more, do we not, than a fleeting acknowledgement on an emotionally induced occasion? If we could retain, recover or find a way for the public to appreciate what our Members of Parliament do, we would be living in a much happier society. You do not have to agree with your MP, but you do have to respect him or her.
For today, though, noble Lords have heard enough from me. Our thoughts from these Benches are with Sir David’s family, his wife and his friends, many of whom are in this Chamber; and let us not overlook the unhappy people who were there, very close to the scene at the time.
My Lords, on behalf of the most reverend Primate the Archbishop of Canterbury, the bishops of the Church of England and, I am sure, all Christian people and all people of good will, I am here to offer the family of Sir David Amess and the constituents of Southend West my condolences and the assurance of the prayers of the Church. I am very grateful for all that has been said thus far, and, certainly, we on these Benches wish to associate ourselves with those comments.
As was said, I considered David Amess a friend. Leigh-on-Sea is my home town. Southend—now the city of Southend—is where I grew up. This appalling murder happened in streets I know well, just around the corner from where my mum lives. It was characteristic of David, whom I got to know during my time as Bishop of Chelmsford, that, when I was appointed, he was one of the first people to congratulate me. When I was translated to York, it was the same. He thought this was another way of putting Southend on the map: a boy who went to a secondary modern school in Southend was now the 98th Archbishop of York. He was so pleased. Last time I saw him, he asked to have his photograph taken with me.
I reckon that, now Southend has been declared a city today, forget about a statue of Vera Lynn at Dover; we are going to put a statue of David Amess at the end of Southend pier. He was—and I know this from the work I did with him—a deeply committed constituency MP. He exemplified what that means. He knew the people he served, and in the constituency he was completely colour blind to political difference. He just served the people he had been elected to serve.