Brussels diary: the talented Mr Rompuy

August 25, 2010

Last year, when he was just plain old prime minister of Belgium, Herman Van Rompuy spent his summer holiday touring Australia in a camper van. This year the new president of the European council opted for another location rarely frequented by political leaders: the Belgian coast. Everything about Van Rompuy is low key. Known as the "grey mouse" of Belgian politics, he is a slight, professorial figure with a penchant for religious philosophy and haiku. But, eight months into his job, there is a growing consensus that his style is working. Much of Van Rompuy's time is taken up trying to mediate between fractious officials in Paris and Berlin—now known in Brussels as "marriage guidance." But both sides seem to be still speaking to Van Rompuy, while neither are that friendly with Jose Manuel Barroso, the president of the European commission. And Van Rompuy has an unusual asset in EU politics: a clear strategy and concrete objectives. He is probably the first senior figure with these since Jacques Delors stepped down as president of the European commission in 1995. But while Delors's plan was to build up the power of the commission, Van Rompuy's is the reverse. He believes that European heads of government should take charge of economic policy (on which the commission built up significant powers). The logic is that only premiers can take the tough decisions needed for Europe to keep its standard of living. The euro crisis revealed failures of co-ordination between the European commission and Ecofin (the meeting of member states' finance ministers). Taking control away from them also serves Van Rompuy's personal interests, since it will be given instead to the meetings of heads of government, which he chairs. He also cunningly secured the job of drawing up the new, stricter rules of economic governance. He plans to work around British objections to those by dividing countries into three categories—eurozone nations; those that aspire to join and agree to be bound by their rules; and the long-term outs like Britain—each with a different set of rules. This strategy will probably be spelt out at a 16th September summit which is itself a classic example of Van Rompuy stealth. Earlier this year he floated a plan to hold monthly meetings of EU leaders. Unsurprisingly that was rejected by premiers, for whom a trip to Brussels is about as popular as one to the dentist. So Van Rompuy began scheduling ad hoc extra summits. Ostensibly the September meeting was called to discuss foreign policy, but it has since emerged that economic governance will also be high on the agenda. Underestimate the grey mouse at your peril. THE GALLIC GRIP LOOSENS Elsewhere in Brussels, in the Justus Lipsius building which serves as the headquarters of the European council, changes are afoot. And they are not good for France. The next few months will see the departure of two key figures who have personified the French stranglehold on policy-making there. The most prominent is its secretary general, Pierre de Boissieu, a relative of Charles de Gaulle and a gaunt, imperious figure for whom the phrase haute fonctionnaire might have been invented. When De Boissieu heads for retirement next year his position will pass to Uwe Corsepius, one of the closest aides to the German chancellor, Angela Merkel. In a simultaneous blow to the Gallic administrative grip, Jean-Claude Piris, the council's senior legal official, is also heading for his pension. Even if the Germans get his job too, the Brits are likely to be well represented in the new order, with senior roles for David Galloway, the Scot who was chef de cabinet for De Boissieu, and for William Shapcott, a security guru and former foreign office diplomat. In addition, Reijo Kemppinen, a former head of the European commission's London office, is returning to Brussels to take charge of the European council's media strategy. As his name suggests, Kemppinen is Finnish not British. But, thanks to his time in London, "he's practically a Brit," says one senior official whose nationality you may be able to guess. COMMISSIONERS TAKE IT EASY Billed as the make-or-break moment for European banks, the release in July of stress test results on 91 banks turned out to be less stressful for the City than imagined. But a look at the travel schedule of some European commissioners might have given us a clue about that. The man responsible for creating a tougher regulatory architecture for the financial services was internal market commissioner Michel Barnier, a former French foreign minister. And where was Barnier at this moment of truth for the European banking sector? On a visit to Martinique and Guadeloupe—before going on to review the humanitarian aid effort in Haiti—not the most obvious place to discharge his heavy responsibilities for Europe's financial services. Olli Rehn, the economic and monetary affairs commissioner, was not in Brussels either when the data was released by a committee of banking supervisors in London. Rehn was, at least, in the EU—in his native Finland. There he magnanimously agreed to give a response, though this meant breaking away from the event he was attending: the Pori jazz festival.