Brussels diary

MacShane riles the mandarins - again
January 20, 2004

Who killed the pact?
The death of the stability pact was predictable. But the identity of the assassin was a surprise. It was not France - which had never really been in favour of the pact - that wielded the dagger. Instead it was Germany, the creator of this fiendish instrument of fiscal torture. The European commission was taken by surprise by the militancy with which the Germans reacted to the commission's proposals to enforce the pact. After all, the commission had not mooted the dreaded fines of up to 0.5 per cent of GDP. All it was suggesting was that Germany should agree to some further budget cuts. There was plenty of room for compromise. So why did Gerhard Schr?der suddenly get so shirty?

One theory doing the rounds at the commission is that it is all the fault of Thomas Klau, the impeccably informed Brussels bureau chief for FT Deutschland (and occasional Prospect contributor). Among his fellow hacks in Brussels, Klau has the reputation of being the only one to fully understand the delightful intricacies of the pact. One of the more pathetic sights after commission briefings on the pact was to see the line of hacks queuing to talk to Klau for a post-briefing briefing on what was really going on. It was Klau who identified early on that - just before the step of imposing fines - the commission had the power to propose mandatory demands for budget cuts in countries that persistently violated the 3 per cent deficit rule. Worse, he came up with a fiendish sounding word to describe this process - Zwangsauflage, which translates as "binding commitments," although apparently it sounds ultra-threatening in German. (The word for "forced labourer" is Zwangsarbeiter.)

Shortly after Klau had used the z-word in one of his pieces, commission officials began to notice that it was a term that Schr?der was using with increasing frequency in his fulminations against the unreasonable demands of the commission. The Eurocrats mused that Schr?der - having never previously understood how onerous the pact could be - had been freaked out by Klau's article. If Klau did inadvertently help to kill off the pact, it would be a sad irony. Not only was he one of the few people in Brussels to understand it, but he was also one of the few to believe in it.

MacShane and the mandarins
Denis MacShane, Britain's Europe minister, is in trouble again - this time for suggesting that Romano Prodi should step down and return to Italian politics full time, rather than working half time at the European commission while plotting his return to Italian politics. This sort of remark is a commonplace in the coffee bars of Brussels, but apparently those killjoys at the foreign office regarded it as an ill-advised gambit just before a European summit. The mandarins' attitude to MacShameless is rather odd. You would think he would be the Europe minister of their dreams - fluent in German and French and with good Spanish, a real pro-European with excellent connections across the continent. In fact, the diplomats appear to loathe Denis. They have taken to referring to "Dr MacShane" in tones of deep sarcasm and bitch about his (admittedly compulsive) name-dropping. "I miss Peter Hain," whinges one Brussels-based diplomat, "at least he listened to what we had to say."

But frankly, for all his indiscretions and foibles, the foreign office should be giving thanks for MacShameless. Just think of the duds they have had as Europe minister in the recent past - is anyone seriously nostalgic for the days of Doug Henderson or Keith Vaz? Doubtless their sheer ignorance of the subject matter made them putty in the hands of Sir Humphrey and his cohorts. But what did they ever do to get Britain's viewpoint across in Europe? At least MacShane can do what none of his predecessors ever managed - wander down to the press room at EU summits and explain the British position in French or German. That does more to improve Britain's image in Europe than any number of carefully crafted foreign office statements.

Making friends with France
This language business is tricky. P?ter Medgyessy, the Hungarian prime minister, is unusual among the leaders of the new EU member states in that he is more comfortable speaking French than English. This skill enabled him to effect a nifty transition from deputy prime minister of the last Communist government of Hungary in 1989 to a top job in a French investment bank by 1990. It has also made him a favourite of Jacques Chirac. During the negotiations over the draft EU constitution, Chirac awoke from a reverie to hear Medgyessy making a point in the language of Moli?re. "I support that," said the French president firmly. The Hungarian was extremely cheered. He had been arguing for an explicit reference to the importance of minority rights in the constitution. His government had not been making much headway on this point, since other countries are either indifferent or actively opposed. France, in fact, was in the "actively opposed" camp since French official ideology stresses the rights of individuals rather than of groups or minorities. Medgyessy followed up by writing a long letter to Chirac, asking him to confirm his support for minority rights. In the intervening days, however, the French equivalents of Sir Humphrey had got to work. Eventually a reply was sent to Budapest - sorry, it had all been a misunderstanding. But thanks for speaking French, anyway.