Lamberto Dini is finito, but don't write him off. Signor Dini is proof that elected politicians don't count any more in Europe. He's a caretaker prime minister in a non-government which is in charge of the presidency of the EU for the next six months.
The former deputy of the Italian central bank was prime minister of Italy for more than a year. That's longer than most of his 50 predecessors, but not long enough for Lamberto, a US-educated heavy-weight. He wants to stay on during Italy's presidency, which ends in June. Italy's politicians don't like the idea, but they don't fancy elections either. Besides, the man with the bald pate and the popping eyes reckons he's a more attractive proposition. He's also got a few scores to settle.
His first target is Theo Waigel, the German finance minister. Dini is still seething over the bumptious Bavarian's dismissal of Italy's chances of joining monetary union by 1999. No sane German intends to exchange the Deutschmark for esperanto money. But how Dini must have chuckled on hearing that Germany failed in 1995 to meet the Maastricht treaty's three per cent ceiling for budget deficits.
Dini has since served notice that he intends to chair all meetings of EU finance ministers during the Italian presidency. Assuming he survives, he will have a big input on the most explosive Emu issue in 1996: the relationship between those currencies taking part in the monetary union and those remaining outside. He also intends to chair the opening of the Inter-Governmental Conference (IGC) in Turin on March 29th, if necessary without President Jacques Chirac, his other b?te noire.
Italy-which lives in fear of sliding off into the Balkans-is determined to prevent the emergence of an exclusive "hard-core" built around France and Germany. Dini doesn't like Chirac because the French president said the sinking lira was hurting French exports. Try investing in our currency, replied the Italian. All this means that Dini is potentially John Major's key ally on Emu, even if his presence at Europe's high table is one more sign that the central bankers are running the show.
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Without Dini, Italy will struggle in Europe. His predecessor-media magnate Silvio Berlusconi-left no visible mark, with the exception of a single inspired appointment, the elevation of Emma Bonino to the European commission.
The choice of Bonino as the second Italian commissioner in charge of consumer policy, fish and humanitarian aid is as welcome as it is improbable. Berlusconi turned to her at the last minute, having been rejected by better known candidates. The Irish were appalled to discover her record as a militant pro-abortionist who admits to being a dab hand with a bicycle pump. But she has been the star of the Santer commission, possessing that rare thing in Brussels: street credibility.
During the turbot war with Canada, Bonino grabbed more air-time than Sir Leon Brittan, no mean feat because Sir Leon has never met a microphone he didn't like. She also upstaged French commissioner Yves-Thibault de Silguy, who was in charge of technical preparations for the launch of the single currency. Bonino argued, correctly, that nobody had bothered to think about consumers, the one group which stands to lose the most. She reminded everyone about the lessons of decimalisation in Britain. Shops are bound to be tempted to "round up" prices when the Euro finally enters circulation. Her motto is worth remembering. "Money without politics is bad, but politics without money is a disaster."
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Bonino's success shows that there's talent tucked away in the European Parliament. She served as a Radical MEP before moving to the commission, and led many a demonstration in the chamber in favour of a woman's right to choose, and the Dalai Lama. Her absence diminishes the Italian delegation in the parliament, an odd collection of dreamy European federalists and neo-fascists strutting corridors in sun-glasses and electric blue suits. The ghost of Altiero Spinelli, the intellectual who provided the political framework for the single market, has long departed for the celestial chamber. As one old-timer laments: we've moved from Spinelli to spivs.
Talking of the parliament, the word is that Tony Blair is trying to put Labour MEPs on a tighter leash. Glenys Kinnock is among several members grumbling about the "whip" from Walworth Road. Others say that Pauline Green, the burly ex-bobby who is head of the Labour delegation and the umbrella Socialist group, spends too much time on the phone to London "pre-cooking" the caucus meetings.
Blair is worried that the Labour contingent-biggest in the Socialist group-is not sufficiently New Labour. He wants lips buttoned on the IGC and single currency. The trouble is that many Labour MEPs were elected to safe seats in 1979. They still believe in Clause Four and don't face re-election until 1999. Now that Scargill has committed political suicide, the European parliament may turn out to be the last refuge of the British hard left.
