When she came to pillar number four, MPs in Berlin would have swallowed hard – if they understood the implications. The Commission was going to set up a form of European government, controlled by a strong parliament – which could only be the European Parliament. But that wasn't enough for Merkel: “I am in favour of the Council becoming something like a second chamber,” she said after her speech to the European Parliament. Almost a year before, in an interview with leading European newspapers, she had gone on record saying: “Beside the Commission, this second chamber will in a sense form the Council with the heads of government.”
The December summit was nonetheless a disappointment for Merkel. The President of the Council, Herman Van Rompuy, proposed a completely different agenda for reform: once again Eurobonds featured on the wish list; once again it was a case of providing money without asking for anything in return. Merkel spent the weeks before the summit and the summit itself fighting a defensive battle; she lacked allies, and her counterparts clearly no longer saw any urgency for largescale reform. Yet at least she managed to turn the counter back to zero. She still had her sights set on Europe, and Van Rompuy's plans ran aground. But six months had gone by, time had been wasted. Merkel began turning the matter over in her mind again.
All the same, a first step had been made – Merkel had spoken publicly about her idea for a new European economic order. Europe had a choice: either a middling solution, the classic model based on compromise that would be swept away by the tidal wave of globalization, or a difficult programme of reform that would allow the continent to compete. The fifty-five years since the Treaty of Rome are a blink of an eye in historical terms, she said on another occasion. No one could guarantee that Europe would retain its peaceful, stable order. Or, as she told the Bulgarian Prime Minister, Boyko Borisov, more in jest than earnest, no one has a divine right to be the leading power. Even the Mayas died out eventually. And Angela Merkel didn't want Europe to die out. She wanted to achieve great things for Europe. Yet at the same time she set herself a modest goal: no one should be able to accuse her of playing an active part in the downfall of a whole continent.
The British Problem
Keep Them in
On 11th November 2012, Angela Merkel flew to London for dinner. On the agenda was an informal meeting with David Cameron. This is the sort of occasion that she far prefers, because she is free of the demands of protocol and has an opportunity to learn something about the other person. So, while in Germany the period of Carnival – what Rhinelanders refer to as the “Fifth Season” – was just about to start, Merkel walked through the shiny black door of 10 Downing Street and into what might have been another world.
German visitors are always enchanted by the mystery that hovers around the British Prime Minister's official residence. Although Number Ten is essentially just a terraced house, all the power and authority of the nation's long history seem to radiate from its façade. Germans, who have often overturned their own history, admire the British sense of tradition. Yet the mystery soon evaporates when, as is likely to happen, you go in search of the guests’ lavatory to the left of the front door and see a bottle of bleach and a toilet brush under the sink.
Merkel's small entourage were promptly led away into the depths of the building, and soon lost their bearings among the maze of narrow corridors and staircases that were more reminiscent of a dog kennel than the heart of a national government. One member of the delegation was utterly bewildered when they were taken through a kitchen where the pots and pans didn't seem to have changed since Churchill's day. But their surprise reached its apogee when, before the meeting started, their host, David Cameron, asked them to gather round and introduced himself as the sole performer. With the help of an aide and a laptop he gave a lively and entertaining presentation that explained the relationship between his country and the European Union, including subtle references to the upcoming arguments over the budget.
Merkel, who can be quick-witted and amusing herself, much appreciates this self-deprecating side of David Cameron's character. She once affectionately said that he loves to hog the limelight. She likes the sort of political interchange that is found in the British tradition of debates, the Prime Minister's weekly confrontation in the House of Commons that gives a clear, critical edge to political discussions – perhaps because she doesn't have a reputation as an orator herself, at least not among her domestic audience.
Whatever the case, the 11th of November 2012 would go down in the history of Anglo-German relations as the day the Chancellor got to know and understand the British Prime Minister. Of course, she didn't always agree with Cameron's interpretation of events, but at least what emerged was a kind of personal relationship without which nothing can be achieved in the political elite. But most of all it managed to heal several wounds that Cameron had inflicted in the past.
Merkel likes British politics. One reason for this is that Britain's view of the United States is similar to her own. And she speaks English; as an East German Protestant she feels closer to Anglican sensibilities than to the Roman Catholicism of southern Europe; in her previous life in the GDR she admired the unambiguous stance taken by the British and Americans towards the Socialist regime. And although she has never forgotten Margaret Thatcher's convolutions over German reunification, that did nothing to lessen her liking for British understatement, the country's understanding of sovereignty and its deeply rooted democratic ideals.
She greatly admired Tony Blair when he was Prime Minister. He was the one who introduced her into the international political milieu when she became Chancellor, and helped her take her first steps at the European Parliament. As we have seen, immediately after her election in 2005, Merkel dispatched her newly appointed head of the Chancellery, Thomas de Maizière, to London, where he could learn the business of government from Blair's staff. Admittedly, the British Prime Minister had been damaged and politically weakened by the war in Iraq. Not dissimilarly to George W. Bush, Blair was keen to be seen as being close to the new German Chancellor, who could enhance his standing – and who if nothing else had the advantage of not being Gerhard Schröder. But after eighteen months their ways parted. If Blair had had hopes that Merkel might help him crown his career by securing a job in Brussels, then he was to be disappointed. Merkel is too much of a pragmatist for that, and knew that the Iraq affair had left Blair toxic – at least for her audience at home in Germany.
For three years Merkel's opposite number was Gordon Brown, someone whose personality greatly resembles her own. Like the Chancellor, Brown is a hard-working, analytically minded politician, shaped by his upbringing in a Scottish manse. Like Merkel, he is also hard to read and only very occasionally confides in people. When the Lehman Brothers crisis reached Europe in the autumn of 2008, it was Brown who organized a meeting of the world's twenty leading economies in London. And it was Merkel who plagued the British Premier with her ideas for regulation until he incorporated the relevant passages in the final document. When he called a general election for the spring of 2010, Brown had no hope of being re-elected. So it was very much a personal gesture on the Chancellor's part when, a few weeks before he left office, she visited him at Chequers.
Barely six months later, Merkel was back at the British Prime Minister's official country residence, this time as a guest of David Cameron and accompanied by her husband, Joachim Sauer. When it comes to Merkel's positive attitude towards the British, Sauer isn't without influence. The professor has accompanied her on a great many of her visits to the United Kingdom – not something he does with every country. He once flew to Heathrow with Merkel and promised to join her for dinner with the Prime Minister later. When the German Embassy offered him the use of an official car, he politely refused. He said he preferred the Underground. And with that he headed for the Piccadilly Line and set off to visit a fellow academic.
Although on a personal level Merkel thinks very highly of the British, her professional view of its policy towards Europe is much more
complex. In her opinion it was Tony Blair who sowed the seeds of the dilemma with which Cameron is now faced, by laying the foundations for a referendum. Although on his trips to the Continent Blair always showed a very positive attitude towards the EU, this opinion wasn't reflected in British domestic politics. He twice promised a referendum – if Britain were ever to consider joining the euro, and over the adoption of the European Constitution – but it never happened. The European Constitution had already been rejected by voters in France and the Netherlands, so Blair didn't dare put it to the test.
Britain's tendency to keep a distance from Europe reflects its traditional attitude towards the Continent. As Henry Kissinger wrote in his book Diplomacy, Great Britain is the only European power whose national pragmatism always prevents it from demanding expansion. In this respect its relationship with Europe and thus the European Union is diametrically opposite to that of Germany, which after two World Wars and with a dominant position in the centre of Europe that it is unable to shake off, is crying out for closer union between states. So while Merkel tries to find a perfect institutional framework for Germany, the euro and ever-closer European integration, according to the rigorously analytical opinion of the Chancellor's advisers, Britain has never made the leap from the European Community to the European Union.
Initially, however, Merkel's disagreement with Cameron was over something much more straightforward. Early in 2009, Cameron withdrew the seventy-one Tory MEPs from the European People's Party in protest at its “federalist” policies and its criticism of the British desire to hold a referendum. This decision made Merkel's blood boil. She foresaw that it might massively weaken the conservative faction in the European Parliament. It sent a very clear signal to the other parties of the centre-right alliance, as the British vote was very important to the EPP. Their departure put wind in the sails of other Eurosceptic Parties, which could develop into a veritable storm at the next European elections. European versions of the US Republican Tea Party can be found all over the Continent. Merkel regarded Cameron's decision as short-sighted and motivated by domestic politics – an opinion that she would reiterate as Cameron's European problems grew.
Merkel reacted in the same way as any party leader would. She got straight in touch with the London branch of the Konrad Adenauer Foundation, whose director had the best network of contacts within the Conservative Party, and let Cameron know by way of various channels that this definitely wasn't a good move. Cameron didn't react, but three days after being elected in May 2010 he flew to Berlin, where the personal relations between the two immediately improved.
Yet the EPP episode was only a foretaste of the problems that Germany would encounter over British policies towards Europe under Cameron's leadership. From Berlin's perspective, Britain's party-political debate about a referendum paled into insignificance beside the problems in the Eurozone that Merkel had been trying to solve since 2010. Yet two very dangerous situations looked set to collide at any moment: the euro crisis and the British desire for reform, including a demand for treaty change, would hold the EU in a double lock.
Merkel saw Cameron's problems over Europe as entirely of his own making and avoidable. And even if the Chancellor didn't presume to pass judgement on the Tories’ internal squabbles, she nonetheless regarded Cameron as being hostage to his party. Tactical errors, constant concessions to the Eurosceptics, poor timing and above all else the lack of any clear, convincing direction – in his Europe policy, Cameron had not shown a jot of statesmanship.
Merkel's reaction to people in a weak position is to give them a form of electric-shock treatment: she kept pushing Cameron to play more of a part in European affairs, so he wouldn't be dragged along in the slipstream of the anti-Europe faction in his country. “We want him to get more involved,” was the word in the Chancellery, which in relation to the EU budget meant: Germany was on his side when Cameron insisted that the Commission's budget couldn't be allowed to increase. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to give in to the demands of the southern European countries and leave Cameron isolated. But it was in Merkel's own interests and a fundamental concern of hers that Britain should remain in the European Union. “Constructive involvement” was the murmur that went round Berlin, or “involvement for the sake of your own interests” – dealings with London were taking on an almost disciplinary tone.
Admittedly, these electric-shock tactics also had another target: Merkel had no desire for the anti-Europe faction in Britain to start feeling emboldened and believe that all it took was a few steps and the rebate champions in London would surrender and even be pushed towards the exit. No, Merkel wanted to keep the British in the EU. Any other outcome would shift the balance of power in the EU to Germany's disadvantage, and would paralyse the Continent. Hence her key objective: Great Britain had to remain in the EU – but not at any price.
The haggling over this price began in the middle of the euro crisis in November 2011, when Merkel wanted to set up the fiscal compact but Cameron refused to join. The Chancellery made it quite clear to the Prime Minister's office that this agreement would not prevent national governments from keeping to their own financial models and introducing legislation to balance their own budgets, and that it was actually in line with Britain's decision to pursue a strict austerity policy. Since the other non-Eurozone countries all supported the idea, it seemed odd from the German viewpoint that Cameron should baulk in this way. And when he made last-minute demands in order to protect the special interests of the City, this only increased his isolation.
In Germany's view, a similar miscalculation lay behind the speech on Europe that Cameron made in January 2013. Cameron had used their dinner on 11th November 2012 to confide his thoughts and ideas to Merkel and explain the dramatic situation. The Prime Minister made two important observations. The first was that the single currency had fundamentally changed the entire Europe project. Without the euro the European Union had been inclusive, in other words oriented towards the member states. Several countries needed more time to adopt many of the constituent parts of this Europe, or else they wanted to be exempt from its regulations. At the same time the single market was becoming too weak to bind the different countries together. The single currency had now thrust itself forward to centre stage as the most important European project, thus changing the very nature of Europe. The Continent was divided between countries who used the euro and those who didn't. Cameron then asked a direct question: what was most important to her – the single market or the single currency? What he really meant by this was that Europe had to give serious thought to the relationship between the countries in the Eurozone and those outside it.
His second argument was this: Merkel had to understand how a promise of a referendum was likely to be received in Britain. He tried to impress on her that it wasn't simply a matter of placating his Eurosceptic backbenchers, but that it lay at the very heart of the British understanding of democracy.
Put in these terms, Cameron's speech almost appeared to be a nod to Merkel and Germany. Not only that, Cameron had only just missed stirring up a hornet's nest, because he had originally planned to give the speech on 22nd January – which, of all days, was the fiftieth anniversary of the signing of the Élysée Treaty between France and Germany. To mark the event, the French and German parliaments would hold a joint session in Berlin, while the two cabinets met symbolically round the same table. This High Mass of national reconciliation was thus also a form of celebration of the birth of the European project. If Cameron had delivered his speech on this particular day, then the snub could not have been more exquisitely timed. Amazingly, however, no one in Downing Street was apparently even aware of this, and it was only after a last-minute panic that the danger was averted.
Someone who had been involved in the writing of the speech commented that it was clearly aimed at two different audiences: the British public, particularly the Tories, and the German Chancellor. It was no coincidence that Cameron had mentioned it to Mer
kel beforehand, nor was it a coincidence that the key theme was that competitiveness lay at the heart of the European project.
The speech was supposed to pacify the Eurosceptics in Cameron's Party – the promise of a referendum after the next general election in exchange for a truce between now and then. Yet, in Merkel's opinion, Cameron was making two mistakes. First of all he was taking an enormous risk for the sake of short-term political gain at home. A referendum is no small matter and can have unforeseen consequences. Merkel would never leave herself at the mercy of such uncontrollable political forces. And secondly, it was naive to expect that the promise of a referendum would silence the critics. In fact it had the opposite effect: Cameron had played his trump card, but was still subject to coercion. And the need for a fundamental debate on the subject was clearly not satisfied by the simple announcement of a deadline. On the other hand, Cameron had managed to silence the people who had been calling for a referendum, as they now felt that they had got what they wanted.
For Merkel there were a couple of practical questions: the speech reminded her that in Cameron she had an ally in her central issue – the warning about a declining Europe. Cameron shared her view that Europe either had to improve its competitiveness or fall behind in the global race. Yet Merkel had to make a practical decision, which was how far she would go along with Cameron's demand for a repatriation of powers to the United Kingdom. She had no desire whatsoever for treaties to be reopened. So her warning to Cameron was this: only if treaties had to be renegotiated could there be a vote on them. And a vote was likely to turn out badly – of that Merkel was certain.
Angela Merkel Page 23
