by Roy Jenkins
As I told Calvo Sotelo, I am not too agitated about the letter, although I know some members of the Commission, notably Natali and Davignon—both of whom wanted to issue denunciatory statements—are excited against it. Vredeling, whom I would have expected to be most agitated, is not so. No doubt there is a desire in Giscard’s mind to cut down the power of the Commission, to reduce or eliminate our political role, our connection with Parliament, and half to amalgamate us with the Council secretariat and with COREPER, and thus to make us all into servants of the European Council. This must clearly be resisted and some others will no doubt resist the other thought at the back of his mind, which is to revert to the old Directoire idea and to reform the Council of Ministers so as, after enlargement, to give greater power to the major countries, particularly France and Germany, maybe Britain. However, I don’t believe in taking the rigid defensive view that everything is perfect (it is certainly far from that) and that therefore we should resist any change. I am sure it would be foolish for the Commission to take up this position. Altogether the Giscard initiative requires delicate playing.
I talked also with Calvo Sotelo about his worries that the Greeks might try to veto Spanish entry, or might be put up by the French to do this, and tried to reassure him.
After a long meeting with Davignon, partly about the Giscard letter but mainly to disclose my ideas to him before our Commission strategy weekend, I had an hour with Siad Barre, the President of Somalia, before the small dinner we were giving him in the Berlaymont. He is one of the few Africans who is neither francophone nor anglophone, though he speaks both, but Italian better than either. Although a good linguist, he is not a vastly intelligent man, an old Marxist, who has quarrelled bitterly with the Russians in the course of the past year. I had a desultory conversation with him at first, but he got better over dinner. I made a brief three-minute speech of welcome, to which he said that owing to his English not being perfect he was not sure that he could manage an adequate reply, and then produced a spate of more or less coherent words for thirty-two minutes.
FRIDAY, 15 SEPTEMBER. Brussels and Comblain La Tour.
A meeting with Gundelach, mainly about agriculture but also about the agenda for the weekend, and found him, too, pretty good and firm. Then I saw his new Director-General, Vilain, a Frenchman of course as is regrettably ‘obligatory’ in DG6, but was surprised, expecting to see an elegant Inspecteur de Finance, to discover a rather young, stolid-looking man who might be a policeman. Gundelach had told me that he seemed rather ‘square’ but I wasn’t quite sure of his use of the word in English; however it seemed a good description. Vilain seemed agreeable enough to get on with: unable to speak English.
At 12.15 I received Warren Burger, the Chief Justice of the United States. He being the Third Citizen, it was held that I should go down and meet him, which I did, and then had three-quarters of an hour’s conversation before taking him in to lunch. Conversation is perhaps not exactly the right word. I thought vaguely of what I might talk to him about, perhaps telling him a little about how Community institutions work, but found this happily totally unnecessary, as he talked the whole time—but well—about Supreme Court affairs. He looked rather like Asquith approaching his dotage but was quite a personality.
At 3.30 I saw Ortoli for the last of my conversations with Commissioners and found him more or less all right, perhaps a little less enthusiastic about reform (of the Commission) than the others, but certainly not proposing to have a row about it. Drove with Jennifer to the Hostellerie Saint Roch at Comblain La Tour in the valley of the Ourthe.
SATURDAY, 16 SEPTEMBER. Comblain La Tour.
The morning session opened with Tugendhat’s paper on budget balance and future resources, a paper of Giolitti’s, some contributions from Ortoli, moderately good this first half. Then Gundelach gave a very long but really rather brilliant exposé of the agricultural position. We got almost complete agreement on no fundamental upheaval but a very tough anti-surplus price policy, particularly on milk products. Afternoon and early evening sessions on direct elections, the part the Commission should play in them, whether Commissioners should stand, etc., and the organization of the work of the Commission.
SUNDAY, 17 SEPTEMBER. Comblain La Tour and Brussels.
A final session for three and a half hours, almost exclusively on personnel policy and the outside inquiry. We drove back to Brussels via Villers-le-Temple. A dinner party, rue de Praetère, for Christopher Soames who was staying with us, and Simonets amongst others. Christopher on boisterous form and the evening was easy and agreeable. His arrival caused great excitement in Marie-Jeanne, our excellent but not young Belgian cook, who had worked for him. She not only produced even better food than usual, but had her hair done specially.
MONDAY, 18 SEPTEMBER. Brussels.
To the Ecofin Council hoping to discover, as we all were, exactly what had happened at the Franco-German meeting at Aachen. The ministers of both countries were reticent. Healey made a fairly effective row about this, but eventually it emerged that nothing too hard had been settled and the slight morosité evaporated. The eight (i.e. less Healey) were then prepared to agree upon the Belgian compromise with the parity grid system for intervention, but with the ‘basket’, as it were in reserve behind it, providing the basis on which it could be decided who was responsible for an imbalance and who should act to correct it.
WEDNESDAY, 20 SEPTEMBER. Brussels.
Haferkamp at 7 p.m. to tell him that Tugendhat had referred to me the question of Madame van Hoof’s27 visit to China as one of his party, and that I thought he would be unwise to press ahead with it. However, I said that I would not veto it in the last resort28 At first he seemed rather inclined to give way but said he would talk about it with her and with Denman (his Director-General). I don’t believe he wants her to go but I have little doubt he will be frightened by her into agreeing.
THURSDAY, 21 SEPTEMBER. Brussels.
Lunch at home for Georges Berthoin, the previous representative of the Community in London and the new Chairman of the European Movement. Berthoin was surprisingly interesting, though slightly disturbing. He is very worried about the Giscard initiative. If they got rid of the political role of the Commission, the overall European interest would go by default, he said. It is essential this should be the starting point, even if national governments subsequently whittle it away somewhat. If it is all left to national governments, nothing will emerge except for a series of horse-trading deals. He is also worried that no government (certainly no major one) is inclined to fight hard for the Commission. He is of course a great defender of the previous system, but still there is a good deal of sense in what he says and he put it very well.
It also emerged from this conversation that the great Commissions of the past were not all that powerful. Hallstein, he thought, started the rot by having an extremely ill-judged joust with de Gaulle which led to his defeat and decline; and that indeed way back in the traditionally great days of the Coal and Steel Community, Monnet had resigned because he felt he had lost control of the Commission.
Then for yet another session with a committee of the Parliament, this time the Legal Affairs Committee, presided over rather fruitily by Sir Derek Walker-Smith;29 quite an enjoyable encounter. Home at 6.30 where Jennifer had Ken Galbraith for a drink. I had not seen him for eighteen months and he looked very well in spite of his approaching seventieth birthday and seemed as buoyant as ever.
FRIDAY, 22 SEPTEMBER. Brussels and East Hendred.
An early meeting with Haferkamp, who said he had had many long discussions with Denman and Renée van Hoof, particularly with Renée, and had decided she ought to go. So I reluctantly approved this. Jennifer and I then proceeded to miss the 12.35 plane to London. They had forgotten to put my suitcase in the car and I made the disastrous decision to go back to rue de Praetère and get it, believing that we always caught a plane in Brussels. It was a ludicrous attempt: leaving the Berlaymont at 12.10, even with an extremely lucky journ
ey, we only got to the airport at 12.32 and they refused to take us. It was the first time30 I missed a plane in Brussels. We eventually got away in rather bad order at 4.30, no first-class seats, no protocol -1 think they were rather fed up with us for being so late—and then had a very good journey, beautiful weather at London Airport, and we arrived at East Hendred less than two hours later. I played croquet with Edward in a magnificent sunset.
MONDAY, 25 SEPTEMBER. London and Brussels.
To the Dorchester Hotel at 9.00 to address the opening session of the World Planning Conference. It was quite a good, slightly futuristic speech, written partly by Stanley Johnson,31 about oil dependence and the possibilities of escaping from it, relations with the Developing World, etc. Some rather anti-motor car remarks which had been put into it attracted a good deal of attention, particularly on the BBC, and led to an exaggerated report that I had urged the abolition of the motor car, which however didn’t do any great harm, though it reverberated on for a bit.
3.35 plane to Brussels and one and a half hour’s interview there with Nick Stuart, Department of Education and Science and ex-Number 10 Private Secretary, as a possible replacement for Hayden. I found him, as I expected, bright and quick, although knowing practically no French, but eager to come, and I think on balance that he is the better candidate.32
Rue de Praetère dinner party for the Lee Kuan Yews, with Tickells, Brunners and the Singapore Ambassador and wife. As often with Lee, a slightly sticky beginning but then a highly enjoyable evening; we had mostly general conversation with a lot of anecdotes about world politics.
TUESDAY, 26 SEPTEMBER. Brussels.
One and a half hours’ more serious conversation than the previous evening with Lee Kuan Yew before giving lunch to the President of Cyprus and then having a meeting with him from 3.00 to 4.00.1 am afraid that Mr Kyprianou and I rather bored each other. Crispin thought that in the afternoon meeting we were both liable to fall asleep with our heads meeting and cracking in the middle. However, we just kept apart and the conversation going.
THURSDAY, 28 SEPTEMBER. Brussels and Athens.
Plane to Zurich and on to Athens. It was pretty cold in Brussels, and incredibly cold in Zurich. Athens at about 4.45 Greek time, where it was an absolutely perfect day, temperature 75°, no wind, which I regard as the bane of Greece, and a general atmosphere of balm. I was met at the airport by Karamanlis himself, as well as a great horde of other people, and there did a very brief press conference with him before driving to the Hôtel Grande Bretagne. I was then able to pay a quick visit to the Acropolis in wonderful light and with not many people about. Athens appeared more agreeable than I remembered it.
A serious meeting with Karamanlis from 7.45 to 9.15. There was a friendly atmosphere and I think a reasonably good relationship was established. I find him an impressive and agreeable man, although we had a fair amount of argument, particularly in relation to the length of the transitional period for bringing Greek agriculture into the Community system. They had been unofficially talking about requesting no transitional period at all, which would be disastrous, as it would drive the French and the Italians into demanding an excessively long one, which would bog down the whole negotiations.
I explained this to him very carefully and I think moved him on it. His main approach to all questions of Greek membership is essentially political, one of prestige, though not in a petty sense. He has devoted nearly twenty years of his career to Greek Europeanism and does not want this to be dissipated by Greece being treated in a second-rate category, i.e. given less favourable treatment than he thinks was extended to the previous three enlargement candidates. He is also very anxious to differentiate the Greek position from that of Spain and Portugal, and included in this conversation some slightly uncalled-for barbed remarks about the stability of Portuguese and Spanish democracy, with Italy thrown in for good measure, and even a few side-swipes about the difficulties of getting governments together in the Netherlands and Belgium!
However, we were broadly able to agree on the further timetable—break the back by Christmas, leave a few things over, get the accords ready for signature by the summer holidays—but all this depending on the negotiations going well over the next phase, which he recognized could be difficult, and during which he agreed to strengthen his official contacts with Brussels and keep in closer personal touch with us.
Then after this on to a largish (fifty or so) mixed dinner party at the Prime Minister’s official residence. Fairly formal speeches, with television (there was heavy television and newspaper coverage of the whole visit). The conversation with Karamanlis at dinner was all right, but not terribly easy linguistically. (At the serious meeting he had talked Greek and I had talked English and we had been interpreted by his Chef de Cabinet -very well done for a nonprofessional.)
Karamanlis is indeed linguistically very odd. He has lived for ten years in France. He left Greece in 1963 before the Colonels came and did not return until 1974, when he immediately became Prime Minister again. He had close and influential French friends, Debré particularly, Couve de Murville to some substantial extent too, and even a quite close and useful acquaintanceship with the General himself. Yet he can hardly speak French at all. At one stage during dinner I thought I would try him in French to give him some slight relief from his halting English. So far from being a relief to him, it was absolute agony, and a look of total puzzlement came over his face as I addressed to him the most simple questions. This caused me some collapse of linguistic morale as I think my French, while not elegant, ought to be comprehensible. I was therefore greatly relieved when on the drive home that night Roland de Kergorlay, the chief official dealing with enlargement who, whatever else he can or cannot do, can certainly speak French, suddenly said to me, ‘Karamanlis can hardly understand a word of French, you know. I found I had to talk English with him because he was just not understanding anything I said in French.’ I have never felt more pro-Kergorlay!
FRIDAY, 29 SEPTEMBER. Athens.
9.45 call on the President of the Republic,33 a little intellectual who was very agreeable to talk to. He gave me the amazing news that the Pope had died:34 so amazing that at first I misunderstood him. ‘The Pope has died,’ he said rather inconsequentially. ‘Oh, yes,’ I said, ‘yes, indeed I would like to have gone to his funeral, but unfortunately it was not possible.’ ‘No, no,’ he said, ‘the new Pope is dead.’ ‘Good God, you can’t mean it?’ I said. But of course he did.
Then a meeting of ministers, about six of them, presided over by the large Cretan, Konstantinos Mitsotakis,35 the other most notable ones there being the Minister of Agriculture, Boutos, of whom I thought rather well, and Kontogeorgis, the minister in charge now of relations with Europe, who is nice but not impressive. This lasted two hours and was quite a serious meeting, with a lot of points-particularly the agriculture transition points—being gone into in considerable detail, and quite complicated arguments having to be deployed. I hope I shifted their minds a bit.
Then a luncheon at the hotel of sixty to seventy people -ministers who had been at the morning meeting, plus a collection of industrialists, bankers, trade unionists, heads of agricultural federations, etc. I made a short speech to them afterwards which led into a discussion.
Press conference at 4.00. This was expected to be formidable, as there are a lot of Greek newspapers (with very tiny circulations) and a high reputation for ‘yellowness’. However, I found it reasonable, although long and crowded. It produced some fine misquotations the next day, which I hope did not do too much harm.
After a routine debriefing of the ambassadors of the Nine in the scruffy little German Chancellery, there was a reception in the rather grand Parliament building given by the President of the Chamber. Mavros36 and indeed Karamanlis came, but not, slightly to my disappointment, Papandreou.37 I had declined the offer of an official dinner and had intended to go off quietly with my Brussels team, but it became obvious that Karamanlis was free, so I asked him if he would come
and dine with us, which he accepted with alacrity, but then not unreasonably turned the dinner party into one of his own. We all went off to some taverna below the Acropolis, where we dined in a party of about fourteen from 9.30 to midnight.
I had an agreeable conversation with him, his English seemed to have improved, and the evening went along buoyantly; the fact that he had wanted to do it was obviously a sign that the visit had gone rather well. He expressed great disappointment that I was going back the next morning, which indeed in view of the perfection of the weather I was beginning to feel myself, accentuated by the fact that he made it clear that the cruise on which he had wished to take Jennifer and me was to be on the old Onassis yacht, Christina, which now apparently is the official property of the Greek Prime Minister.
SATURDAY, 30 SEPTEMBER. Athens and Brussels.
Another perfect morning. I returned alone by the 8.50 plane (forty-five minutes late), leaving the others to the pleasures of the cruise. We had the most beautiful flight, with the sea absolutely still and a very faint haze, but otherwise a spectacular day, over the Peloponnese and Corfu to Brindisi, up the east coast of Italy where we ran into wisps of cloud about Ancona and over Venice. There was dappled sunlight over Germany before the usual wall of thick cloud settled in somewhere between Bonn and Liège. Brussels at 11.30, and home in cold rain. Afternoon expedition to Louvain with the Beaumarchais’, who were in Brussels for a conference. Jacques somewhat better, although having got much worse after we left Sare. They and Hayden and Laura to dinner, rue de Praetère, and we had an enjoyable time compensating for Athens sunshine with very good wine.