Brussels diary

Patten vs Solana again
March 20, 2001

Solana bounces back

One of the longest-running spectator sports in Brussels is the simmering rivalry between Chris Patten, the external relations commissioner, and Javier Solana, the former Nato secretary general with that banana republic-style title, EU high representative for common foreign and security policy. The clash of the big beasts has been so riveting because both parade formidable egos while being subtle enough to avoid direct confrontation (for most of the time anyway). For his first year in office Solana had the edge by virtue of his responsibility for Europe's most flashy new project: the new rapid reaction force. But last summer things started to go wrong for the Spaniard. First he embroiled himself in a messy secrecy row by trying to ban a new category of documents from the public gaze. Then he found himself competing for the television cameras with the French foreign minister, Hubert V?drine as Paris assumed the EU presidency. Finally, even the good news proved bad for Solana when Yugoslavia's President Milosevic was ejected from office. Patten promptly jetted into Belgrade to treat with Slobo's successor while the man who ordered the bombing had to stay in Brussels for security reasons.

But it may be time to buy shares in Solana again. Now rid of the ubiquitous V?drine, Solana finally plucked up courage to travel to Belgrade as part of an EU troika mission to the Yugoslav capital. There was some nervousness at a pre-visit meeting until Patten broke the ice. In the event of any misfortune, he said in deadpan tones, there would certainly be a visit to Belgrade to check up on Solana's prison conditions. Then came the suggestion that Bodo Hombach, who runs the Balkan stability pact, would go on hunger strike. For those unfamiliar with the German heavyweight, suffice to say that Hombach weighs in at anything up to 130 kilos making a fast something of a long-term commitment. In the event the Belgrade visit passed off smoothly, the protests fizzled out and Solana even had the embarrassment of being protected at the Hyatt hotel by the same thugs who not so long ago were bullying the democratic opposition. Patten retains his hands on the purse strings central to delivering economic aid but expect tensions over the Balkans to rise-in Brussels if not in Belgrade.

Be lucky

Chris Patten's cabinet, meanwhile, has been illustrating its belief in the need not to just to be good, but also to be lucky. Vicky Bowman, a foreign office high-flyer, Burmese-speaker and former press spokeswoman for the UK representation, is now a senior aide in the Patten team. Last year she won a cable television cookery quiz show coming away with a round the world trip for two and a fitted kitchen. Surely her luck could not hold during the social high point of the Brussels calendar-the tombola at the British journalists' annual review? Sure enough, when the draw was made lucky Vicky held no fewer than three winning tickets scooping a mobile phone starter pack, an annual subscription to the Brussels ex-pat Bulletin magazine and a pile of CDs.

Anybody out there?

The same bash highlighted one of the dominant themes of Brussels life, with sketch after sketch playing up the impotence of poor old Romano Prodi. At one point our hapless leader was depicted in despair complaining that his comments were ignored across the continent. "Sorry, Mr President," came the reply from his aide-after a theatrical pause-"did you say something?"

Shrugging and sulking

Brussels' other great soap opera-the increasingly sulky French-is also destined to run and run. The plot so far centres on French fury at their failure to control the commission as in the good old days, exacerbated by indignation that Prodi, the first non-Francophone president since Roy Jenkins, turns out to speak marginally better English than French.

Frits Bolkestein, the Dutch commissioner with a record for plain speaking, has now stepped forward to pour lighted four star on these troubled waters with a speech on the future of Europe. "Enlargement," he said, "will cause the jardin ?  la française to wither. The European institutions are now run by people of many nationalities. The French network is weakening, and English is steadily becoming the main working language."

This blunt attack was ignored by most of the French press, which has decided to treat many of the outpourings of this allegedly Anglophile commission with Gallic contempt. More of the same was on show when Prodi launched his blueprint for March's Stockholm summit about liberalisation and open markets; the French dailies showed less interest in Prodi's performance than, to pick one example at random, Richard Desmond's Daily Express. One Prodi aide claimed to have closely observed the correspondents from Le Monde, Lib?ration and Le Figaro during Prodi's press conference. Trouble was, they were outside the pressroom drinking coffee at the bar.