European Diary, 1977-1981

by Roy Jenkins

  Evening plane to London for an unexpected weekend at East Hendred. This was because we had decided, four or five days before, to postpone an Egyptian visit as there wasn’t much to discuss with them, the meeting was rather badly set up (thanks largely to their incompetent ambassador in Brussels whose only possible qualification is that he is the brother of the Prime Minister), and the Egyptians, no doubt because they had a lot of other things on their minds, hadn’t given the long-previously requested agrément to our delegate in Cairo, so we had nobody to organize things there.

  MONDAY, 30 APRIL. East Hendred and London.

  Lunch with the Gilmours at Isleworth. Ian thought the Conservatives were probably winning the election, though wasn’t overwhelmingly confident, and told me more strongly than when I had seen him before Easter that he was pretty committed to accept the number two job at the Foreign Office, under Carrington. The night they had won the no-confidence vote in the House of Commons, he had rashly agreed over a late-night drink with Carrington that he would do this, which greatly strengthened Carrington’s claims to the Foreign Office, which now seem fairly clearly established. The difficulty is that whoever is number two there ought not to do Europe. The Foreign Secretary ought essentially to do that himself, and this makes the job, apart from the disadvantage of not being head of a department, in my view a less good one than Ian ought to have.

  Sir Michael Palliser for a serious talk at Brooks’s from 6.45 to 8.00. Acting on the assumption of a change of government, which both of us thought likely but neither of us thought certain, we then discussed how things should be played. He thought that Carrington was likely to be Foreign Secretary and would be marginally better, because more experienced, than Pym. Quite a good and sensible talk with him, including a satisfactory interchange about Crispin’s future. I said very firmly that Crispin should be given a substantial embassy as soon as he came back from me (and a KCMG too) in order that he might have the opportunity to move up fairly quickly to one of the three top jobs by the end of his career, which he was certainly good enough to deserve. Palliser has Mexico City in mind for him.

  TUESDAY, 1 MAY. London and Brussels.

  To the Maudling memorial service at St Margaret’s. It was absolutely packed, and a good, rather moving service. Ted (Heath) gave an impressive and generous address, done remarkably without notes, and there was also a good reading by Sandy Glen.44 I walked out with David Steel and told him how well I thought his campaign had gone and that he really had done the best of the three, though I had no idea how many votes it would bring him. I had a brief word with Harold Macmillan and with Ted afterwards.

  Plane to Brussels with Jennifer where we had a rue de Praetère dinner for Senator Ed Muskie,45 whom I had not talked to since the memorable occasion in Douglass Cater’s house in Washington seven and a half years ago when he had been so completely carved up by Dean Acheson, the last occasion on which I saw Acheson. We also had Hinton, the American Ambassador, one person whom Muskie had brought with him, and Edmund Dell, who is one of the trois sages, plus his assistant, a very bright Foreign Office lady called Alison Bailes, who had been sitting in the car with Sykes when he had been assassinated in The Hague. It was altogether an interesting dinner. Muskie was very agreeable and more impressive than when I had seen him with Acheson; rather protectionist, however, despite being very close to the President. Dell seemed friendly and reasonably sensible on his affairs.

  WEDNESDAY, 2 MAY. Brussels.

  Pressing messages from Philippe de Rothschild saying he must see me urgently on some highly important personal matter. I thought it was to do with Jean-Pierre de Beaumarchais and therefore thought I should see him, and persuaded Jennifer a little reluctantly to have him to lunch. And then during the morning he kept ringing me up about the arrangements and also asking if he could bring Joan Littlewood46 with him. I agreed to this reasonably enthusiastically as I thought she might be quite interesting; she turned out to be moderately so. The only thing he wanted was to try and get me to sponsor some wine (i.e. Mouton) art exhibition in London.

  In quick succession at about 7.30 I had frantic telephone calls from Bill Rodgers and Shirley Williams, both of whom had had Number 10 on to them saying there was a tremendous rumour circulating in the City that I was about to come out with a pro-Tory statement. I assured them that I was coming out with no statement at all during the election. They seemed relieved. (Nor did I vote. Jennifer voted Liberal.)

  Dinner, rue de Praetère, with John Harris who was staying, Jennifer and Laura. John pretty convinced, but by no means absolutely so, that the Tories would win. He and I stayed up talking about the future and what I might or might not conceivably do in politics.

  THURSDAY, 3 MAY. Brussels.

  A rue de Praetère luncheon party for the Chinese Ambassador and his wife. We also had Thea Elliott who was staying with us and was an old China hand, having had one child born in Peking in the late 1950s, plus Denmans, Tickells, and Plaja, the Italian Permanent Representative. I was surprised and pleased that the Chinese had come to lunch on their own, without any ‘interpreter’. The Ambassador showed no signs of resentment that the follow-up to my Peking talks are not as yet going terribly well, mainly because of the French taking up a very restrictive view on the textile agreement and one or two other governments being difficult on GSP.

  A visit from Lathière, the French head of the Airbus consortium. He is the most surprising man, Enarque, Inspecteur de Finance, had been Chef de Cabinet to Jacquet when I was dealing with him on Concorde in 1964–5, looked like a butcher, talked a most undistinguished English fluently, and was obviously an extremely effective head of Airbus. Then just after 7 o’clock I went to the Brussels Hôtel de Ville and made a brief direct elections speech and then wandered around the stalls which had been laid out in the Grand’Place, one for each of the numerous Belgian parties competing in the election. But my insular mind was slightly more on other elections that day.

  Sat up listening to the results with Jennifer, Laura, Thea and Celia, which began to come in seriously about 12.40 Brussels time. I eventually went to bed at 5.45, having waited to hear the Stechford result, but, Birmingham being as incompetently late as ever, had failed to do so. It was clear that the Tories were set for a substantial majority which would last a full Parliament. I had mixed feelings at the end, though on the whole I think a change of government is better for Britain’s relations with Europe, but I cannot find pleasure in it. Thea I think was the most solid Labour supporter amongst us, though we were all somewhat torn.

  FRIDAY, 4 MAY. Brussels.

  In the afternoon I heard the totally unexpected and dreadful news of Shirley Williams’s defeat, and then went home for a sleep before the Beaumarchais’ arrived to stay at about 8 o’clock. Late-night telephone conversations with Shirley and Bill Rodgers.

  SUNDAY, 6 MAY. Brussels.

  Did some English telephoning, to Ian Gilmour, Peter Carrington, one or two other people, including David Owen, who had got a good result personally, rather surprisingly so. To bed very early. The post-election weekend definitely exhausting, draining and not very satisfactory.

  TUESDAY, 8 MAY. Brussels and Luxembourg.

  In the margins of the Foreign Affairs Council I had a substantial talk with François-Poncet, mainly about the agenda for Mercuès, the French ‘Schloss Gymnich’, and also on some difficult nuclear matters, the French having decided to take the nuclear question off the Mercuès agenda thinking it was too sensitive in advance of direct elections. I agreed to this but said we couldn’t leave it for too long. François-Poncet was reasonable and quick and I was definitely pro him on this occasion.

  At the end we disposed of Cheysson’s telegram to Nkomo, which over the weekend had shown signs of escalating into a major row with the French, although they knew perfectly well that I had not approved of it. However, Poncet agreed that we could now leave it where it was. But in the typical French way of getting in a parting shot, he said as we were walking out that there was great s
ensitivity about Commission political activity. Some people—not, he implausibly alleged, the French as much as the Germans—had raised eyebrows at the high degree of political content in my China talks.

  At lunch Christophersen (Danish Foreign Minister) made the most ridiculous fuss about the leaked Denman working paper on relations with Japan, which had contained the famous phrases about ‘workaholics’, ‘rabbit hutches’, etc. I replied robustly, saying it was a pity it had leaked, but I was far from sure that it had done any harm, I had since received several friendly communications from the Japanese Prime Minister, and in any case it was much better that people should write in vivid phrases than in the usual awful Europe bureaucratese. I was strongly supported in this line by Dohnanyi and Simonet, both of whom were excellent, but nonetheless it took a very long time to persuade the stubborn Christophersen not to raise the matter in open Council during the afternoon.

  The Council spent all day grinding its boring way through the negotiating brief for the final stages of the Community/ACP47 negotiations. This very detailed work, which ought to have been done by COREPER, was a clear example, as I told François-Poncet, of the way in which the Council downgraded itself and became no more than a glorified COREPER, with a consequent bad effect upon the attendance of Foreign Ministers who just sent their undersecretaries who could not take decisions: a classic vicious circle.

  I then drove to Luxembourg on the most perfect evening, a long overdue improvement in the weather, to make a valedictory statement to the departing nominated Parliament on the following afternoon.

  THURSDAY, 10 MAY. Brussels, London and Edinburgh.

  London for my Open University degree at Guildhall. Kingman Brewster, the American Ambassador in London, and I were jointly honoured, and Asa Briggs was installed as the new Chancellor. I saw the Wilsons going into the lunch, and Mary, amazingly, more or less confirmed the story in Harold’s notorious interview that she had intended to vote for Mrs Thatcher.

  Then to Edinburgh in filthy weather for a dinner with the Consultative Committee of the Coal and Steel Community, presided over by Derek Ezra48 and attended by a fair collection of Scottish notabilities, including the new Secretary of State, George Younger.49 I spoke without a text for about twenty minutes. I sat between Ezra and Gormley, Gormley making a great number of centre party noises.

  SATURDAY, 12 MAY. East Hendred and Cahors.

  To Northolt to get a lift in Peter Carrington’s plane to the French ‘Schloss Gymnich’ at Mercuès, near Cahors. I gave Peter a rundown on the various other Foreign Ministers and encouraged him at some fairly early stage to make a general statement of European commitment. The weather improved spectacularly just south of Paris and we landed at Toulouse on the most perfect warm spring morning. There was a reception there by prefect, mayors, the new British Ambassador (surprisingly) etc., and then into a helicopter accompanied by one or two other Foreign Ministers for a rather long journey to the Château de Mercuès. When we got there we found a most spectacular place, an old castle turned into a very high grade hotel on a cliff overlooking the Lot about seven miles out of Cahors.

  Three-and-a-half-hour session, mostly outside. Peter made his statement of intent or commitment, and made it very well. He then went on and more or less told us that they were very loath to keep on Rhodesian sanctions beyond the autumn. This was received in a rather reserved way by Genscher, Simonet, van der Klaauw, and to some extent by Forlani. But François-Poncet, Christophersen and Hamilius, the Luxembourgeois who was substituting for Thorn, were more forthcoming. However, Carrington got away with it better than he would otherwise have done because everyone was so pleased with his preliminary statement.

  At dinner there was the usual tour of the world, no more inspiriting or profound than previously. I got to my room fairly early. It was a perfect night, full moon, and I sat by my window reading for two hours.

  SUNDAY, 13 MAY. Cahors and Brussels.

  A spectacular early morning, with the dark smooth-moving river looking incredibly beautiful. The south-western French countryside can have a peculiarly benign and smiling quality.

  Another alfresco session for two hours. Frangois-Poncet raised his complaints about the European Court but got virtually no support, and in the course of it, rather surprisingly, paid an enormous tribute to the Commission, and to me in particular, for the help we had given in solving the (Community 1979) budget problem.

  Maurice Faure, Mayor of Cahors and former patron of Frangois-Poncet whom he had introduced into the area, plus the prefect, came to lunch. I had quite an amusing conversation with Faure, Frangois-Poncet and the Simonets about the Kennedys, on which subject they were all curiously ill-informed, and I held forth for some time.

  Faure then insisted on taking me on a tour of the local sights, driving himself very fast with his chauffeur in the back. He drove rather as I do, I suppose, except that he went over all the red traffic lights, vaguely waving to the local population. Very long flight back in Simonet’s turbo-prop plane. He had been told the Belgian jet couldn’t get in to Cahors, as the British had also been told, but found that his Dutch colleague had a perfectly good jet on the tarmac, as indeed did Frangois-Poncet. This produced a spark of Benelux jealousy.

  MONDAY, 14 MAY. Brussels and Copenhagen.

  On my way back from my Bois jogging I read the Guardian lead story which stated that there were now new Commission estimates that the budgetary cost to Britain in 1980 would be up from £1000m to £1500m, but that I, after consultation with the Commission, had suppressed this estimate in the meeting that I had had with Mrs Thatcher the previous week. The story was a total fabrication because apart from anything else I hadn’t seen Mrs Thatcher, it was probably malevolent coming from Palmer, and in my view was highly defamatory. I therefore decided to act extremely heavily, partly to try and stop any repetition from Château Palmer. Sol rang up Preston, the editor, and began by saying firmly, ‘You grossly libelled me this morning.’ He sounded absolutely terrified, as though he had been shellshocked, and we then dictated to him a statement which had to appear on the front page the following morning.

  I then left for Copenhagen, first for an hour’s meeting with Anker Jorgensen, the Prime Minister and a nice man, and then my direct elections meeting and address to the Danish Foreign Policy Society. They produced a remarkably good audience, absolutely packed, I should think about 250 people in the Hotel d’Angleterre. The audience seemed to have a complete comprehension of English, and there were some good questions afterwards. Dinner in the Parliament with ?. B. Andersen (now the Speaker).

  TUESDAY, 15 MAY. Copenhagen, Munich and Brussels.

  10.45 plane to Munich to address the ETUC conference. The audience was a great contrast with Copenhagen. It was a much bigger room, probably rather more people (about five hundred) but they were all sitting at desks shuffling papers around, the acoustics were rather bad, and I got the impression that I was talking through a wind to a non-listening audience. However, rather to my surprise, they applauded quite well at the end, and they listened to me at least as well as they listened to any of their own leaders.

  I then had a very good sight-seeing tour of Munich: the Frauen-kirche, the old Rathaus, the new Rathaus, the Opera House, the Hofgarten, Nymphenburg, which was closed, but which we were able to walk round: an attractive, surprisingly early building, about 1680 (I thought it was later) with great wings spread out, rather as at Versailles or Blenheim, to make it look as big as possible. The disappointing building was the Amalienburg, which I had always heard was rather good. Then back to Schwabing, which is now the smart, ‘left bank’ quarter. Brussels by just after 11.00, having had three of the last four meals on aeroplanes, which is too much by any standard.

  MONDAY, 16 MAY. Brussels and London.

  6.35 plane to London and to Grosvenor House for my CBI dinner speech. It was one of the most formidable gatherings I had ever addressed, about twelve hundred people, including almost exactly half the Cabinet—Howe, Joseph, Maude, Nott, Howel
l, Prior50 and various others I can’t remember—plus most of the Permanent Secretaries, plus Shirley Williams, plus Bill Rodgers, plus Denis Healey, plus Roy Mason. My speech, which was mainly European, but also had a good plug for centrist politics, telling the Government not to make major legislative changes unless there was good reason to believe the changes would survive the next tilt of the political balance, went rather well. It was moderately reported in the press and very well reported on the BBC the next morning, but slightly to my regret more the European part rather than the warning to the Government to spare us too many queasy rides on the ideological big dipper.

  I drove Shirley home and discovered that her views on her own future are very sensible. She was not rushing back into the House. She wasn’t sure she was going back at all, but certainly wanted to stay out for the rest of this year. She has lots of things to do, including an autumn’s teaching at Harvard. She wants to look around, and I suppose let people seek her rather than vice versa.

  THURSDAY, 17 MAY. London and East Hendred.

  To the Monnet memorial service at St Margaret’s. It was not very well attended in numbers, although it was quite a distinguished gathering, with Callaghan rather surprisingly there, plus Alec Home, plus Ted, who gave another of his noteless, even if not wholly impromptu, addresses. I thought it rather a good service, in spite of unfamiliar hymns.

  SUNDAY, 20 MAY. East Hendred and London.

  Jennifer and I went to Lew Grade’s great Euro Gala at Drury Lane. We had Dickie Mountbatten and Ted Heath in the box with us, Mountbatten boisterously friendly as usual, Ted reasonably friendly to me though basically in a very grumpy mood, partly because he had had his snarl-up with Mrs Thatcher over her incredibly foolishly sending him a written offer of the Washington Embassy. A delicate sounding might have been one thing, a formal written offer was ludicrous. I sympathized with him but got into slight difficulty, knowing that Nicko Henderson had been decided on a week or so before, and nearly telling him that I knew, but withdrew into saying only that I thought they had now got a candidate. He showed every sign of wanting to pursue this with understandable vigour.