Brussels diary

One thing at least is clear from the Greek debt crisis—that Germany’s chancellor, Angela Merkel, calls the shots in the eurozone. But, in the process of getting her way, Europe’s new iron lady has managed to fall out both with the president of the European commission, José Manuel Barroso, and Herman Van Rompuy, the new president of the European council. Merkel resisted weeks of market pressure for a system to prevent a Greek default, relenting only after Barroso and Van Rompuy joined together with France’s Nicolas Sarkozy to strongarm her into helping. Of the two institutions, the European commission was the first to infuriate Merkel. Olli Rehn, commissioner for economic and monetary affairs, briefed reporters that a deal was imminent ahead of a meeting of eurozone finance ministers. Barroso picked up the baton and, to the irritation of Berlin, appealed publicly to EU leaders to agree a financial safety net. Merkel’s annoyance turned to fury when another of Barroso’s commissioners, Luxembourg’s Viviane Reding, appealed to her in a radio interview to defy populist opposition in Germany to aid for Greece. “Angela, have a little courage,” said Reding who, if she was ever on first name terms with the German chancellor, is certainly not now. Van Rompuy, meanwhile, was getting nowhere with Merkel, who declined to find space in her diary to meet him in Berlin. By contrast Sarkozy, who was pressing for a rescue safety net, did agree to see him in Paris. After that meeting, Van Rompuy told Merkel that he would call a meeting of heads of government of the eurozone ahead of a summit of EU heads of government in Brussels. Fearing Merkel would be isolated, officials in Berlin protested that Van Rompuy had no power under the Lisbon treaty to convene such a gathering. Only one such meeting had been held before—during the financial crisis—and that was called under the old treaty by Sarkozy, who at the time held the presidency of the bloc. Undeterred, Van Rompuy insisted that he would convene the summit anyway, whatever the niceties. When Merkel threatened to boycott it, he called her bluff. In the end the meeting took place with Merkel in attendance. But she rendered it pointless by negotiating the deal directly with Sarkozy beforehand. Barroso, Van Rompuy and the rest of the EU leaders were left to find out the details at the same time as the press. Calling all PR supremos Meanwhile Catherine Ashton, the EU’s foreign policy chief, is said to be on the verge of ending an extended purdah during which she has had as little as possible to do with the media. Scarred by the coverage in the British (and French) press, she cut her ties with the Brussels press corps—even with the continent’s more sober titles. It doesn’t help that her press officer, Lutz Güllner, has departed, apparently after being unfairly blamed by senior officials for the public relations disaster that has unfolded. Two other less senior press aides left too, in what has been a wholesale clearout. All of that left Ashton with just a deputy spokeswoman and a press officer but no overall PR chief. Across the road at the European council is a press office which includes one or two foreign policy experts, including the able Nicolas Kerleroux. But, this being the EU, internal politics has made it impossible to call for help. You scratch our back… It is not just the press that wants to torture Ashton—even the European parliament is having a go. Lisbon may not give MEPs any new power over foreign policy, but it does give them the tools to make themselves awkward if they don’t get what they want. Ashton must amend the EU’s staff and financial regulations to set up her new diplomatic service—and to do that she needs the approval of the parliament. Led by Guy Verhofstadt, the toothy former-Belgian prime minister, and Elmar Brok, the portly German veteran MEP, the parliament has proposed several ideas and could delay—or block—the process if concessions are not forthcoming. One is a sensible plan to put all foreign policy functions (including development aid) inside the new service, which would be an autonomous agency linked to the commission. Ashton’s plans, agreed after much negotiating, would create a more complex structure with shared competences over the big-spending development portfolio currently run by the commission. Another plan arises from one of the deficiencies in the way the treaty created Ashton’s post. Her job combines that of the old high representative, the old external relations commissioner and the foreign minister of the country holding the rotating presidency. Ashton has understandably been unable to fulfill all the engagements once undertaken by this trio. Appointing a deputy is difficult, because she is unique in representing both the 27 national governments and being a vice-president of the EU’s executive, the European commission. Her preference is to nominate a senior official to deputise for her when necessary. This idea is being resisted by the parliament, which insists there should be two “political” deputies. No names are mentioned but perhaps they are thinking of independent-minded senior politicians with foreign policy experience—like Verhofstadt or Brok, maybe?