Brussels diary

The cartoon controversy is a no-win situation for the EU, and it means double trouble for the Danish premier. And what will Roger Liddle do next?
March 22, 2006

Fallout from the cartoons

The cartoon controversy has, perhaps inevitably, been uncomfortable for the EU. Several EU nations have big Muslim minorities but some also have newspapers that have reprinted the cartoons. Called on to defend freedom of speech and to intervene against government-sponsored boycotts of Danish goods, the European commission has had other problems—not least its delegation building in Gaza being overrun by Hamas militants.

When the crisis first broke, the European trade commissioner, Peter Mandelson, took Saudi Arabia to task for encouraging a consumer boycott of Danish exports—something banned by the WTO. But the wider commission reaction was more nuanced; that freedom of expression is a fundamental right but so is respect between cultures. Thereafter several commissioners repeated that formulation, some with more emphasis on the first, some on the second. Mandelson balanced his earlier defence of Denmark with attacks on the newspapers that reprinted the cartoons.

Franco Frattini, justice and home affairs commissioner, encapsulated the confusion, first making a bold defence of freedom of speech, then backing calls for a code of conduct for journalists on sensitive issues like religion. Privately, the commission president, José Manuel Barroso, has asked whether authorities in the middle east which receive millions in European aid are doing enough to protect EU and Danish delegations.

But within the EU, sympathy for Anders Fogh Rasmussen, the Danish prime minister, is limited. Once talked about as a possible commission president, Rasmussen burned his boats with several leaders, including Jacques Chirac, during the Danish presidency of the EU in 2002. Among his sins was allowing a television crew to film a fly-on-the-wall documentary from which Denmark's premier emerged rather better than his counterparts.

More to the point, countries with large Muslim minorities were astonished that the Danish premier could, initially, have stoked up the row. That prompted radical imams to take their case to the middle east, causing the row to escalate.
For Denmark's part, its diplomats say they are happy with the role played by the EU in the crisis and with help behind the scenes from the commission and the EU's foreign policy chief, Javier Solana. Denmark's private anger has been reserved for the statements of politicians openly critical of the publication of the cartoons. Rasmussen was especially irked by the words of our own foreign secretary, Jack Straw.


Liddle goes off to think

After leading the charge for Europe in Downing Street and then spending the past year in Peter Mandelson's cabinet, Roger Liddle is off to think. Negotiations are under way for the founder member of the SDP and co-author of Mandelson's 1996 book The Blair Revolution to join the think tank that reports directly to the commission president. Now sailing under the name of Bureau of European Policy Advisers, this is not an entirely happy ship. Some complain about the group's dictatorial Italian head, Enzo Moavero Milanesi; others point to the bewildering variety of experience and talent within the team. Nevertheless, as with any job in which people are encouraged to read books, posts in the 20-strong think tank are sought after. The bureau is part of the commission president's empire, and Barroso's predecessor, Romano Prodi, installed his close friend and aide Ricardo Levi as head of the unit after a disastrous year as his press spokesman. This proximity to the president may hold the key to Liddle's move. After working on the build-up to last October's Hampton Court summit on economic reform, Liddle is well known to Barroso and can expect good access. He will keep up his work on economic liberalisation and will hope to spread his wings. And having an ally installed so close to the commission president can hardly be bad news for Mandelson.


Cameron's strange friends

The fate of the Tory party in Europe may lie in the hands of voters in the Czech Republic. David Cameron's pledge to take his 28 MEPs out of the EPP-ED group of centre-right MEPs has provoked a flurry of activity as the Tories seek new allies with whom they can sit in the European parliament. The Czech opposition, the ODS, has told the Tories that it will not move from the EPP-ED until after the Czech elections later this year. (If the ODS wins, many believe it will stay with the centre-right bloc.)

Cameron, urged on by the Europhobic tendency among his MEPs, led by Daniel Hannan, is determined to forge a proper group. Tony Blair famously taunted him that his MEPs would end up sitting with Jean-Marie Le Pen, Alessandra Mussolini and—worst of all—Robert Kilroy-Silk. And for a man pursuing a centrist agenda in Britain, Cameron's potential allies are a liability. The Conservatives have already suffered the humiliation of being rejected by a small group of Dutch Christians, some of whom believe that women should not be allowed to stand for elected office. With the exception of Latvian nationalists, Nordic Eurosceptics and the ODS, the best bet seems to be Poland's ruling Law and Justice party. But Law and Justice is now allied to the extremist Self Defence party, whose leader Andrzej Lepper has a history of gay-bashing and antisemitic and xenophobic rhetoric. That might not go down so well in Notting Hill.