John Bercow spoke for Britain. If the government wishes to grant a state visit to the bigoted megalomaniac who currently inhabits the White House, that is technically its right. But the speaker has the right to intervene on who gets to address parliament. To coin a phrase, Speaker Bercow took back control. Last year’s victors in the EU referendum promised parliamentary sovereignty: they cannot object when it is now exercised. Given Bercow’s commendable efforts to combat sexism and racism in politics, it would have been hypocritical not to speak out.

It is Bercow’s reasoning – that Donald Trump’s sexism, racism and attacks on the independence of the judiciary disqualify him from a parliamentary visit – that have led some to criticise the speaker for abandoning political neutrality. There is an important argument to be had here. Soon after Trump’s election, a senior broadcast news producer told me of his fears about the way in which the new president would be normalised. It included muddying the water on, say, what actually constitutes racism or sexism. Rather than reporting the president’s interventions as being racist or sexist, his comments would become merely “controversial”. And as such, the most powerful man on Earth would help send the fights against discrimination of various hues hurtling back decades, because it would become harder to identify it, let alone call it out.

Trump has spoken about women in the most derogatory terms possible, has smeared Mexican immigrants as rapists and criminals, demanded a blanket ban on Muslims, and appointed as chief strategist the former editor of a far-right website. His sexism and racism are objective facts. The sky is blue, the Earth is round, Trump is a racist and a sexist. When we start arguing that his racism and sexism are open to debate, that to label him as such is to compromise objectivity, we strip both words of their meaning. This is already happening. The emboldened bigots of the western world believe they can speak and act with impunity, and nobody can challenge them on it. This must stop.

If Theresa May believed that her attempts to turn Britain into a client state of Trump’s America would be smooth, she should have been less naive. The government is under pressure, it is on the defensive: exactly the moment to up the ante. On Thursday, the new Stop Trump coalition has its first open activists’ meeting to plan coming actions. When members of parliament debate Trump’s state visit – an honour some US presidents have never received – on 20 February, they will hear the voices of thousands of protesters outside.

The British government is invaluable to Trump: May helps to normalise and legitimise him. That the speaker of the House of Commons called out Trump for what he is underlines that this is no normal president. The government didn’t have to humiliate Britain by trying to make this country Trump’s lapdog. It chose to, and now it is facing the consequences.