European Diary, 1977-1981

by Roy Jenkins

  He was full of his normal German neuroses: the world needed a lead, but he couldn’t give it; Germany was at once too big and too small to do that; it aroused too much antipathy, too much jealousy. A small country might …. I said, ‘Which small country?’ He said, rather dismissively: ‘I don’t know; maybe Holland, maybe Belgium, but they are not big enough. The United States almost effortlessly could, but Carter shows no signs of doing so.’ Less so than on previous occasions, however, he was not obsessed by complaints against Carter. Nor was he full of praise for any of his European colleagues. There was noticeably throughout the whole long conversation no mention at all of ‘my friend Valéry’. There was a good deal of complaint about the attitude of the French (and Italian) press towards the Germans. There was also complaint that he had been accused of being a new Hitler, I am not quite sure by whom. The Swedes, he mentioned darkly, had been particularly unhelpful.

  The London press, he allowed, had not been similarly difficult, although he had begun the general conversation by saying that he was pretty fed up with the British. He had done a great deal to bring them into the Community, and now he was blamed by other people and given the responsibility for their generally unhelpful attitude. I asked him of what exactly this consisted, but he was vague, muttering something about direct elections and agricultural policy, but not taking a strong or precise line.

  He ended by agreeing that he didn’t know the way out, perhaps nobody did, but accepting my remark that, this being so, he should not be too sceptical, or slap down attempts like my monetary union plan to get some movement. He said he was in favour in principle of monetary union, but against it if it meant German inflation going to 8 per cent. I said I would be too; the great thing was that the best part of German policy should be accepted by other countries; and what was absolutely essential was that both the strong and the weak economies should feel that they had something to gain. He expressed himself with remarkable enthusiasm about enlargement and said that it was a central duty of the Community; he was totally dedicated to assisting the Greeks, Spaniards and Portuguese in this way.

  I am not sure how much this long discussion advanced things, but it was a good free-ranging talk with an easy atmosphere, and we both came out looking quite pleased. I flew for a short hour to Geneva, and then on to Lisbon. A most beautiful day all across Europe, particularly at Geneva, where the Alps in the fading light were suffused in a rose-coloured glow. Met at Lisbon airport by the Prime Minister (Soares) and various other dignitaries and drove to the Ritz Hotel, a twenty-year-old building filled with typical mock-Empire Ritz-style furniture. Restaurant dinner given by the deputy Foreign Minister (there being no Foreign Minister, Soares holding the portfolio himself); amiable but not pointful discussion.

  FRIDAY, 11 NOVEMBER. Lisbon.

  My fifty-seventh birthday, not greeted with great pleasure, particularly as no celebrations were scheduled during the extremely hard day ahead. I began with Constâncio,208 an effective young man about thirty-five, who is in charge of the Portuguese negotiating team and seems to be the most sensible economics man in the Government. Then back to the hotel for an hour to receive the leaders of the five political parties in quick succession, followed by a deputation of industrialists. Cunhal, the hardline Stalinist Communist leader, was the most interesting, and not ostensibly particularly hardline. He was against Portugal’s entry more on economic than on political grounds, which is not entirely without sense, and he was in favour of loans from outside, but not primarily from Germany or America. He thought from Britain and Italy, with a rather touching faith in the ability of these countries to have any money to lend.

  Then to see Soares: eighty minutes of French exposition from him, with a few questions from me. He gave a lucid analysis of the political situation in Portugal and how he hoped to deal with it by forming a common platform to get the hard budget through, but not by a coalition which would be either impossible or undesirable. He has a good logical mind on political questions, and drew a very effective little socio-political map of Portugal, on which he pointed out the various groupings on the ground of the party forces in a way that I found easy to follow and helpful. On economics he is much less sure; he knows he has got to be fairly tough, though he is complaining a good deal, as all the Portuguese are, about the IMF terms.209 I told him fairly bluntly that in my view they had little alternative but to accept them, though I thought that the IMF after their return from Washington would be a little more reasonable, as was their habit. The Portuguese must get the IMF money and, indeed, in the position they were, it was no good saying that this might prevent sustained expansion, since a policy of reculer pour mieux sauter was inevitable.

  Then a 2.30 luncheon (though the Portuguese don’t in general keep Spanish time), presided over by Constâncio, at the Port Wine Institute. Next to the Parliament to address the Foreign Affairs Commission and answer questions. Then to the Belgian Embassy residence for the ambassadors of the Nine. Then a press conference at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs presided over by Soares.

  Next out quite a long way to the presidential palace to call on General Eanes,210 the head of state. Crispin thought he was very nervous of me. I don’t think this terribly likely. Once again the interpretation was bad. (We must take our own interpreter on these trips in future.) Eanes is a youngish man, in his forties, hard, rather limited in intellect, but plunged straight into the main issues and gave his explanation of what he thought might or might not happen. Some parts of it, in translation, came through rather horrifyingly, as when he said that the General in the North, whom everybody knew had been recalled because he had been plotting with the doubtfully named Social Democrats and generally making too political an impact, had been recalled to ‘pursue his military studies at a higher level’, which had a splendid ring of Nigeria, if not of Eastern Europe. However, Soares had assured me that Eanes was a good democrat and he said nothing else that contradicted this. He was obviously working very closely with Soares, though he complained even more strongly about the IMF terms than the Prime Minister had done. He showed no desire to take over full power himself and hoped that Soares should be able to steer through and carry on.

  Then a long drive out to Cintra of Peninsular War Convention fame, where Soares gave a state dinner of 150 in an old castle with a splendid ceiling. I sat between the Minister of State in the Government, who is a sort of deputy Prime Minister, and the Speaker of the Assembly. Both spoke fairly good French. Indeed Lisbon as a whole was remarkably francophone, and amongst the middle-aged and older generation almost equally non-anglophone. Speeches after dinner, then a television interview, and back in thickening mist to Lisbon.

  It had been too heavy a day, but worthwhile for getting an impression of the government and the atmosphere in the country. Lisbon has great charm. It is curiously unlike a Mediterranean city. Geographically and almost climatically it is more like a poor San Francisco. It is southern and oceanic, which I suppose is what one would expect it to be. The country is in a mess economically, and there are some elements of post-revolution chaos, but there does seem to be a genuine attachment to democratic and constitutional processes. The Portuguese are a non-violent people and their dedication to coming into the Community also seems pretty strong.

  SATURDAY, 12 NOVEMBER. Lisbon and Cascais.

  To the Jeronimus church with its splendid cloisters and magnificent nave: a late fifteenth-century product of the first flood of Portuguese trading wealth, in an architectural style which is quite separate from that of most of Western Europe. Then on to Cascais to the Tinés’ flat by lunch. A great sight-seeing tour in the afternoon, round the coast to Cintra, back to Lisbon, and south over the new (still generally called Salazar) bridge with the object of getting on the return the remarkable view of the setting sun on the roofs of Lisbon as they tumble down to the sea. Then around the Alfama part of the old town, which has great attraction and interest. I was very struck by Lisbon and its surroundings. At dinner at a rather smart restaurant I was
amazed by the cheapness of the bill, and at first thought there must be a nought missing. It was less than £4 a head, which is unknown elsewhere in Western Europe.

  SUNDAY, 13 NOVEMBER. Lisbon and Brussels.

  Back to Brussels after an immense detour over the Atlantic owing to a Spanish air controllers’ strike. We were greeted at Zaventem by Michael Emerson who had got locked into a great dispute with Ortoli’s cabinet about the draft of our monetary union paper.211

  MONDAY, 14 NOVEMBER. Brussels.

  A rather pénible one and a half hours with Ortoli at 9.30, not making much progress. Lunch for John Davies and Donald Maitland, which for some reason or other was conversationally draining.

  Ortoli again at 6.00, still making no real progress and parting in an impasse, but on reasonably good terms, with my saying: ‘The trouble is, Francis, that you and I have very different approaches. You are much more cautious and you don’t believe you can move people’s minds by shocking them. I do, sometimes.’ I didn’t add: ‘You believe in boring them rather than shocking them,’ but this was the thought in my mind about his style of presentation. A short meeting with Davignon after that who indicated that while friend-lily disposed he thought I should find a solution with Ortoli rather than have a head-on challenge.

  TUESDAY, 15 NOVEMBER. Brussels and Strasbourg.

  Avion taxi to Strasbourg. A conference at the airport with Michael Emerson, Crispin and Hayden before taking off, when we decided, rightly or wrongly, that we had better try to come to some arrangement with Ortoli rather than presenting two different texts for the Commission to decide between on the following day, as this would have considerable disadvantages. I would have a clear majority in the Commission, none of us was in any doubt about that; but the fact that we were split would leak, leaving Ortoli bruised and having to present to the Economic and Financial Council on the following Monday a paper which had been imposed upon him. Therefore Crispin was instructed to try and arrive at a last-minute compromise which was compatible with my Florence lecture but did not hammer the points too hard. A bridging passage was to be inserted in order to show the semi-real compatibility between my more adventurous approach and Ortoli’s more cautious, pragmatic and, to judge from past experience, ineffective approach to EMU.

  To the Parliament a little late after yet another nasty flight over the Ardennes/Vosges complex, but this did not matter as Simonet had been so shaken by his much worse flight that he had had to ask for a suspension of the session before he could address them. Took George Brown212 to lunch. I had not seen him for a year. He was a good deal changed: old, white, walking with a stick, but, at the same time, curiously sprightly in mind and, to some extent, in body. He had completely given up drink and cigars; he ate a great deal and, despite his unwonted teetotalism, was an immensely stimulating companion. It is curious how very good he can be: he was greatly enthused with the prospect of standing as an independent candidate under direct elections and drafting a great personal manifesto. He left me inspirited by seeing him.

  Walked back from the Parliament to the Sofitel by the cathedral: a cold, early winter evening with a pre-Christmas atmosphere in Strasbourg already. Then a large dinner for the Conservative Group, which is almost entirely British. An excellent interchange afterwards. They are a pretty good group. Most of them even wrote appreciative letters.

  WEDNESDAY, 16 NOVEMBER. Strasbourg and Brussels.

  A special but flat Commission meeting on the EMU paper over lunch. Ortoli opened at some length, and I then endeavoured to go round the table. But Cheysson, typically and mischievously, but maybe legitimately, said that what they all wanted to know was my opinion. So I, having done my deal with Ortoli, had to give a muffled reply, which took the heat but also the interest out of the discussion. There was undoubtedly a sense of let-down that there was no great gladiatorial contest between Ortoli and me, with blood on the sand. This would have exacted too heavy a price, but it is never satisfying to produce an anti-climax.

  6.07 TEE back to Brussels. Gautier-Sauvagnac, Ortoli’s Chef de Cabinet (who always looks as though he were playing Saint-Loup at Doncières), joined us in the restaurant car in too jaunty a mood. Rue de Praetère at 10.30, and there had a rather dismal discussion with Hayden who was obviously worried about the result of the Commission, though he had been in favour of what we had done.

  THURSDAY, 17 NOVEMBER. Brussels.

  To the Palais de Bruxelles for half an hour’s audience with the King of Spain: a very engaging young man. Even the Spaniards are now immensely less formal than the British Royal Family. At the end of the interview he discovered that there was a crush of cameramen outside the room, and that he had forgotten we were supposed to have photographs taken. Whereupon we went out and stood around shaking hands and talking while the photographs were taken. In the audience he spoke well, but not quite as authoritatively as I would have expected. His Foreign Minister, Oreja, whom I like, was with him and the King left him to do much of the exposition, although never looking bored, being extremely friendly and pressing me hard to go to Madrid.

  Dinner party at home for the Nanteuils, Robert Armstrong,213 who was staying with us for the night, Léon Lambert, etc. Luc de Nanteuil held forth to me for some time after dinner, urging me not to get too bogged down in detail and to be as controversial a figure as possible, as that in his view was the way to play the hand of a President of the Commission.

  FRIDAY, 18 NOVEMBER. Brussels.

  I gave a lunch for British Liberals, Thorpe,214 Steel and Gladwyn.215 Poor Jeremy was looking appallingly haggard, like Soames Forsyte in the last episode of The Forsyte Saga. But this did not affect the flow of his conversation. Even Gladwyn could hardly get a word in, partly because he has got rather deaf and hardly heard what was going on. David Steel was nice but silent.

  SATURDAY, 19 NOVEMBER. Brussels and Paris.

  Motored to Paris on a beautiful morning. One and a half hours with Barre, most of the time on economic and monetary union, where we managed to achieve a considerable identity of view. He is a sensible, lucid man and I think if he has anything to do with it we should have a reasonably successful European Council. Alas, of course, he will not be there, but he said he would try to get a reasonably fair though not committing wind for my ideas on EMU.

  I asked him whether he thought I should try and see Giscard in the next week or so. He wasn’t sure, maybe Giscard would like to see me. ‘He has a very high opinion of you,’ he added encouragingly but implausibly in view of the rows of last summer.

  MONDAY, 21 NOVEMBER. Brussels.

  In a Foreign Affairs Council we had a long wrangle over Article 131. It was a typical example of being unable to contain at the same time the British and the French. It is like that pocket game in which you have to get little balls into holes. As you try to put the second in, the first comes out. The British, represented by Joel Barnett, were towards the end being quite good; if they had been good earlier I think we might have got a solution which would have been accepted by everybody and would have been rather favourable from the British point of view. But by the time they had come round to it, the French had got difficult in a different way. The Council can deal with one recalcitrant major member, but not two.

  TUESDAY, 22 NOVEMBER. Brussels.

  A rather good session of the Council before lunch, in which, amazingly, we disposed quickly and without difficulty of the question of Community representation at future Summits. It was agreed, without the French dissenting, that the Rome agreement on the Community being represented by the Commission and the presidency should apply indefinitely in the future. Thereby a difficult corner was turned.

  THURSDAY, 24 NOVEMBER. Brussels, Strasbourg and London.

  A bumpy flight to Strasbourg for the twice-yearly meeting of the Committee of Ministers of the Council of Europe, which I had been under great pressure to attend. Formal speeches by Forlani, Oreja and me. Simonet failed to turn up. He is suffering from ‘Eurofever’ to which it is almost impossible not to succumb
at a certain stage in view of our mad calendriers.

  In the air again at 1.00, and set myself on the bumpy journey to try to get the last part of the Israel Sieff Memorial Lecture which I was due to deliver in London at 6.00 into some sort of shape. The lecture was at the Royal Institution in Albemarle Street in a nice little theatre, with an audience of about 120. Harold Wilson, whom I had certainly not expected, sat huddled in the corner of a row, listening, applauding at the end though my lecture certainly contained no words of comfort for him, and then coming up very agreeably afterwards, saying he had agreed with parts of it. Eric Roll was in the chair.

  FRIDAY, 25 NOVEMBER. London.

  One and a half hours’ Downing Street meeting with Callaghan. He was extremely genial, as he had been on the previous occasion, but quite different from his attitude in the spring, and on a number of issues not bad. Fairly confident, though not foolishly so, both about the economy and the next election. On the way out I said, ‘What worries me is that if you win the next election, what do you do after that? How do you control the Labour Party?’ He said, ‘Well, it worries me a bit too, but I think I’ve got some thoughts as to how to deal with that.’ Whatever they were, he did not disclose them.