At one time, Britain could be relied on to come top of any league of Eurosceptics. But the latest Eurobarometer survey of opinion across the EU finds Latvians even less keen on membership than the Brits. Asked whether it benefited their country, only 29 per cent of Latvians said yes. Austria, which holds the EU's presidency, has the second lowest figure at 31 per cent, followed by Britain at 33 per cent. Several of the new ex-communist states are already disenchanted with the EU, with less than half of Hungarians, Estonians, Slovenes and Czechs believing membership to be a good thing. This is despite the fact that they are all net beneficiaries, for the time being at least. Explanations doing the rounds in Riga include the theory that Brussels has taken on the role of bogeyman once enjoyed by Moscow. Others blame the regional media for projecting a negative image. The most plausible explanation is the sharp increase in consumer prices since accession in 2004. This may have little to do with the EU and everything to do with the hike in the cost of oil, but that's the way Euromyths tend to work.
Douste-Blazy eviscerated
The sacking of Jack Straw means the departure of the last of the original EU-3 foreign ministers—from Britain, France and Germany—who have been negotiating over Iran's nuclear programme. Moreover, it makes France's Philippe Douste-Blazy the most senior of the new trio. That is hardly a reassuring state of affairs if a recent coruscating profile in Le Monde is to be believed. The former surgeon, appointed last year, is portrayed as a man who confuses Taiwan with Thailand and mixes up Croatia and Kosovo. One cameo depicts Douste-Blazy in Jerusalem, where he quizzed the curator at the Yad Vashem Holocaust Museum over the absence of a commemoration to English victims. "There weren't any Jews killed in England?" Douste-Blazy asked, to be told: "But M le ministre, England was not occupied by the Nazis." Undeterred, France's top diplomat ploughed on: "But weren't Jews expelled from England?"
Highlighting the minister's failure to master foreign tongues, the article went on to describe how he reacted on receiving a call from Condoleezza Rice on a Friday while without his interpreter. The US secretary of state was asked to call back after the weekend. Finally, the normally less than prurient newspaper regaled its readers with an account of how Douste-Blazy and his female companion caused a disturbance in the Mamounia, the luxury Marrakesh hotel once patronised by Churchill. Guests were surprised to witness a rowdy scene in the corridor of the third floor. The minister and his companion were, the article says delicately, "lightly clothed."
Roll over, commissioners
Bulgaria and Romania may have to wait a few months more for the final green light to join the EU next year, but their imminent arrival is already prompting a wave of anxiety in Brussels. It is not worries about the readiness of the two nations or their impact on policymaking that is provoking alarm. It is the question of whose noses will be put out of joint to accommodate them. Under the terms of the Nice treaty, both countries will be entitled to appoint European commissioners, complete with cabinets, press officers and, of course, chauffeurs. And this leaves two options for the commission president, José Manuel Barroso: either he masterminds a reshuffle of portfolios, or he creates some new ones.
The first option has never been tried. The last president, Romano Prodi, won the right to move commissioners but never exercised it for fearing of upsetting member states. Barroso has already had a nasty taste of what happens when this sort of thing goes wrong. His initial allocation of portfolios provoked a huge row. The appointment of Rocco Buttiglione as commissioner for justice and home affairs was blocked in the European parliament because of the Italian's ultra-Catholic views on gay rights. MEPs also targeted Neelie Kroess, the Dutch competition commissioner, for her close links to business. It took Barroso days of diplomacy to extract himself from the mess as various governments dug in. Particularly forceful were the protests from the Netherlands, which saw off threats to move Kroes to another job.
If he wants to do a proper reshuffle, Barroso knows, as one senior official put it: "You either announce it overnight—then have lots of angry governments on the phone, complaining that you have demoted their commissioner—or you negotiate with 27 commissioners."
As for the second option—creating new portfolios—several of the existing 25 commissioners have barely enough to do as it is. The most sensible solution would be to add a new tier of deputy commissioners in the busiest directorates such as trade, competition and foreign affairs. But that would breach an article of Brussels faith: that all members of the college of commissioners are equal, be they from Germany or Greece.
All of which makes the most likely option the division of directorates such as justice and home affairs (which could be split into two) and foreign affairs (perhaps forging a separate job with responsibility for Russia). A more radical solution would be to carve up the most powerful directorate—competition—removing areas such as state aid or merger rulings from Neelie Kroes. However, that would mean an angry Dutch prime minister on the phone again.
