European Diary, 1977-1981

by Roy Jenkins

  This was the first occasion on which ‘Snou’ had appeared in public as his consort and this was no doubt provoked by Jennifer’s coming and the banquet having to be made bisexual. I thought I detected a slight frostiness between Mrs Freitas do Amaral and her. The speeches went quite well, both Sá Carneiro’s and mine.

  FRIDAY, 7 MARCH. Lisbon.

  Lunch was another grand official banquet—at the Foreign Ministry—sitting this time between the Freitas do Amarals. More speeches. Then to the Presidential Palace for a long interview with General Eanes. I had heard in the meantime that the Sá Carneiros were proposing to come out and lunch with us informally at Cintra the next day, as they wished to continue the talk. Perhaps inspired by this knowledge, Eanes kept the conversation going much more animatedly than last time. He was more unbuttoned and relaxed, seemed to me to have become a more rounded personality, but nonetheless made it absolutely clear that he was on pretty bad terms with his Prime Minister. No direct criticism but solid silence about him, accompanied by at least four or five tributes in the course of the hour to Soares.

  Then towards the end he said he could go on as long as I liked. But when we came out about ten minutes late we found Sá Carneiro had been left cooling his heels. When I indicated to Eanes that it would be unwise for me to keep my press conference waiting indefinitely, he responded by saying that he was at my disposal any time during the weekend and would I come and see him again. Our weekend off was being rather seriously eaten into by competitive bidding from President and Prime Minister.

  Then to the Italian Embassy, a very splendid late seventeenth-century building in a rundown quarter, and there did a rather exhaustive briefing of the Nine. I thought the ambassadors were rather an impressive lot for once. The ‘Brit’, as on the previous occasion, was Lord Moran, ex-John Wilson,23 who wrote a good book about Campbell-Bannerman.

  SUNDAY, 9 MARCH. Cintra, Lisbon and Brussels.

  Drove in and saw Eanes in his private presidential apartments at noon. He was very friendly. I think he is an honest man but not nearly as quick as Sá Carneiro, and some of his explanations of the plots, etc. which are going on seem to me a little unconvincing. His basic view was that the divide between the parties should not be allowed to grow too wide: this is partly because he does not like parties and wants to strengthen his own position, but partly because he has a general and desirable commitment to holding Portugal together, and a particular one to keeping the European enterprise as a national and not a party enterprise. Then back to Brussels.

  MONDAY, 10 MARCH. Brussels and Strasbourg.

  Decided I must go on to a strict régime. Avion taxi in rather depressed mood to Strasbourg at 3.45. Listened to Gundelach’s statement on butter sales to Russia which he did pretty well and which was accepted by the more sensible Tories and by the House generally. There were one or two shrill comments but a solid one from Henry Plumb, though balanced by a menacing willingness to vote for anything against anybody by the disagreeable Aigner. Question time from 6.00 to 7.30 which ambled on in its usual boring way. Then back to the hotel and as a substitute for dinner watched Mrs Thatcher on French television –there was a girl interpreter, possibly specially auditioned, with a peculiarly disagreeable voice.

  WEDNESDAY, 12 MARCH. Strasbourg, London and East Hendred.

  I had a lunch at La Wantzenau organized by Henry Plumb and Madron Seligman for six youngish Tory MPs, including some of the most difficult ones on the butter issue. Once or twice they were tiresome but it was well worth doing, I think. Evening plane to London.

  MONDAY, 17 MARCH. East Hendred, London and Brussels.

  One-and-a-quarter-hour meeting with Mrs Thatcher at Downing Street. This was a good deal calmer than on some previous occasions. Nothing very memorable was said, although she was clearly willing to contemplate a package deal at the European Council, provided the actual phrase was avoided, and willing also to talk at any rate in terms of two-thirds of the shortfall, or even a little less. It was perfectly friendly throughout and she showed more willingness to listen than previously. Jim Cattermole and Tom Ellis24 and George Foulkes,25 as the officers (the last two new) of the Labour Committee for Europe, to lunch at the Athenaeum.

  Then to Brussels and dinner at home for the Italians, Ruffini, Zamberletti, Plaja on their side: better than on the previous occasion, but Ruffini still far from scintillating.

  TUESDAY, 18 MARCH. Brussels.

  Foreign Affairs Council, at which there was some short but relatively important discussion on the preparation for the European Council. I had to be there for that, even though it meant my very reluctantly missing Michael Astor’s memorial service in London. Bernard-Reymond suddenly announced at the end of the morning that the position of the French Government was that the Commission must come forward with its proposals now, and then should do nothing in the way of suggesting last-minute compromises. This was an obvious attempt to neutralize me and was fortunately badly received by the others. My rather pompous assertion that we would take our responsibilities and do what we thought right at the time in the interests of Europe as a whole was very well received by nearly all the rest. Bernard-Reymond afterwards came up and apologized to me for having to say this under instructions, adding that he did not himself agree with it.

  Dinner with the Natalis in a large, mostly Italian party. A long talk with Lorenzo (Natali) after dinner, who told me that he and the Italians were much in favour of my staying on as President and that he would stay on if I did.26

  WEDNESDAY, 19 MARCH. Brussels.

  Long Commission meetings interspersed with Shirley Williams to lunch, rue de Praetère. She was friendly and bright and agreeable as she always is, though I think that her political position has receded a little, although not dramatically, since I last saw her. She had had a talk with Denis Healey who had said that he had to be pretty equivocal in order to get elected leader (of the Labour Party) but once elected he would be an absolutely ruthless social democratic leader, wanting a social democratic Cabinet and would indeed try to promote a split in the party from within as opposed to without. She was also charged to bear some sort of message to me suggesting my return to British politics with a view to becoming Foreign Secretary in a future Labour Government. The prospect does not appeal to me, because apart from my having burnt too many Labour Party boats, I really could not stand being Foreign Secretary under Denis. He would lecture one every day on every subject under the sun. This does not mean that I would not serve under anyone – I could serve under David Steel or under Shirley herself, I think, but not with somebody quite as pedagogic and know-all as Denis invariably is—with me at any rate.

  I had Ortoli, Gundelach and Davignon, plus Emile Noël, plus Crispin for a ‘Four Horsemen’ dinner, rue de Praetère. They had asked for it rather urgently, Davignon in particular, but as we had got through most of the immediately tricky business in the Commission it was mainly a fence-repairing rather than a serious discussion occasion.

  Just before they left Shirley arrived back to stay. As soon as they were gone she settled down for what was intended to be an hour or so’s talk, but, unbelievably, went on until 4 o’clock in the morning. She talked extremely well and could not have been more personally agreeable. I told her why I did not think the Healey scenario was convincing, and to some extent she was re-unconvinced by me, although, fairly, retaining her position fully open for the autumn. She also appeared to understand perfectly well why I was unattracted by being Foreign Secretary under Denis. A great part of the conversation, however, was not concerned with politics as such but lapped around, with my describing how the Commission operated, with a lot of talk about Tony Crosland as a young man, a whole range of easy friendly gossipy conversation.

  I suggested to her the possibility that she might be interested in coming as a Commissioner to Brussels. She did not totally reject it, but I think was not very attracted by it, and would in my belief, if she were to be shunted from politics for a few years—in which she saw certain advantage
—prefer to do something like the chairmanship of the BBC. She also has somewhat in mind the idea of a Harvard professorship, which has no doubt been dangled before her. However, on balance I think she will probably stick to politics. It was a worthwhile, though a strange evening, and made particular nonsense of a malicious little story, originating no doubt from Château Palmer, which appeared in the Guardian next morning, though happily unseen until later by either Shirley or me, when it irritated me and upset her, that she had come to Brussels to give me the brush-off so far as any idea of political collaboration was concerned. If so, it was a jolly long brush-off!

  FRIDAY, 21 MARCH. Brussels.

  I went to see the King at Laeken from 9.45 to 10.30. He was looking much better after great back trouble all winter, with an operation and two months out of action. Today he seemed restored, although looking alone and isolated in the vast and rather dismal Palace of Laeken—redeemed only by its view. My state of health was not very good either, and a good third of the conversation was valetudinarian.

  We also and inevitably talked about Europe. He was very keen to promote a budgetary solution acceptable to the British and made some very sensible remarks about how important it was to a country like Belgium that the basic European power matrix should be triangular rather than bipolar. We also discussed both British and Belgian internal politics a little and he claimed, though not in a dismissive or aggressive way, that the communal linguistic question was very much a matter of politicians rather than people. Whether he is right or not I do not know, but he is in a good position to judge.

  SATURDAY, 22 MARCH. Brussels and Nancy.

  Drove to Luxembourg, unfortunately in misty weather over the Ardennes and therefore missed the views. Did a brief tour of the city and then down to Ehnen for lunch alongside the Mosel. Then to Metz and to the cathedral, which I do not recollect ever having seen before. It is quite magnificent, high slightly gaunt nave and spectacular glass, from a whole variety of periods: some medieval, some seventeenth-century, some Chagall. The town is better than I thought, a good medium-large chef-lieu. Then to Nancy and stayed in the Grand Hôtel Concorde in the Place Stanislas, which is a sort of very little Crillon. Also, happily, very petit Crillon from the point of view of price: only 170 francs for a room, which for a view over one of the three best squares in Europe is not bad.

  MONDAY, 24 MARCH. Brussels.

  Plaja came to see me with the fairly amazing news that Cossiga had decided to postpone the European Council (due on the following Monday, 31 March) because his Government crisis meant that he did not have enough time to do the necessary pre-Council diplomacy. At first I was uncertain and thought the decision was unwise, as we seemed to me to be moving up to a satisfactory crisis culmination. On reflection I became a little more open to Cossiga’s idea and made no public and very little private criticism of him. What was a mistake, however, was to announce the postponement before agreement to another date had been secured.

  Lunch with COREPER in the Charlemagne, where conversation was almost entirely about this. COREPER becomes an increasingly hopeless body, almost guaranteed to seize the wrong end of any stick. Eugenio (Plaja) tries to be a good chairman and is about as good as they could get, but the continual bad exhibition tennis match, as I described it to them, between Butler and Nanteuil, is becoming a great bore for everybody and effectively destroying the institution. An afternoon telephone conversation with Werner, the Prime Minister of Luxembourg, where the postponed Council will, I suppose, have to be, owing to April being a month when the Community institutions meet there.

  TUESDAY, 25 MARCH. Brussels, Strasbourg and Brussels.

  8.40 plane to Strasbourg. The Parliament was grinding through the agricultural debate introduced by Gundelach the previous evening. I made a rather sharp fifteen-minute speech saying that, apart from the merits of the issue, if the Parliament wanted to be taken seriously it must stick on the course which it had beckoned us down in December. This went down rather well, though some of the French, including Le Monde, got agitated against it, but they do that about so many things that one cannot take it too seriously. I gave Klepsch (leader of the Christian Democrat Group) lunch at La Wantzenau. I had intended to go into the town but we were warned that there were such a lot of agricultural demonstrators about that it was arguably unsafe (which I doubted) and certainly a recipe for unpunctuality.

  After lunch I tried to have a look at the demonstrators who, it was reported, had burnt the Union Jack. So I think they had, but then for good measure they burnt the Tricolor and seven other flags as well, so it seemed fairly even-handed. Then heard Gundelach’s winding up, the quality of which was difficult to judge as it was, exceptionally, in Danish. Avion taxi back to Brussels.

  THURSDAY, 27 MARCH. Brussels and Copenhagen.

  Evening plane to Copenhagen. To the Hôtel d’Angleterre, of which Grand Metropolitan seem to be making a great mess. They are changing the terrace, changing the entrance, changing the furniture, and changing it a great deal for the worse. This was previously one of the more attractive hotels in Europe. Changes in ownership rarely do anything to hotels except make them worse.

  FRIDAY, 28 MARCH. Copenhagen and Brussels.

  At 11 o’clock to the Christiansborg for a meeting and lunch with the Prime Minister, Anker Jørgensen. When we got there, there was no sign of the little man, and it was a good forty-five minutes before he could be eventually extracted from some party caucus. His private secretaries said that he had just disappeared in the Parliament. However, when he turned up he was agreeable enough, although I think in some ways the BBQ has turned him into the most difficult of all the nine heads of government with whom I deal. This is partly linguistic, as we talk English, without an interpreter, and he is not wholly at home in it. Lunch started as soon as he arrived. It was a vast smørgasbord, accompanied—I would have thought rather tactlessly as we have various cases pending with the Danes about their discriminating against other Community drinks—by nothing but the most chauvinistic Danish combination of aquavit and Tuborg. However, we survived on that, and with the help of his Chef de Cabinet and Crispin managed to make some reasonable progress over lunch and certainly got Jørgensen to accept, which he had not done at Dublin, that something well above the financial mechanism would have to be done for the British, and that a figure of 1000 or 1100 million, while possibly high, was not out of the question.

  Back to Brussels in the afternoon and to a special showing in the salle de presse of the Granada Television film called Mrs Thatcher’s Billion on the Dublin Summit, which was remarkably good. Sarah Hogg played Mrs Thatcher in a way almost worthy of Sarah Bernhardt, and although not looking like their principals when not speaking, Schmidt (Martin Schulz) and Giscard (Paul Fabra) were also in different ways brilliantly played. By these three at any rate, it was a very convincing performance. Stephen Milligan played me, accurately in substance, but I thought without style. What, however, was noticeable was that the highly informed, blasé audience of about 150 assembled in the salle de presse broke into spontaneous applause when the film was over. It was a remarkable tour de force.

  TUESDAY, 1 APRIL. Brussels.

  A fifteen-minute speech to the Political Committee of the Parliament. The Political Committee is sur place a perfectly tolerable body with which to deal, but it seems to produce objectively explosive speeches from me. I made a reference on this occasion to the gap between the British and the others not being in effect more than two weeks’ cost of the CAP. Two weeks’ cost of the CAP equals a little more than 400 million units of account, therefore my sum was based on the unspoken premise that there was hardly anybody who was not willing to go to 700 million, and I believe the British would settle at 1100 million if not a little less. This was a perfectly accurate statement of the position. What effect it will have I do not quite know.

  WEDNESDAY, 2 APRIL. Brussels and London.

  To London after a Commission meeting, and to George Weiden-feld’s big and long-planned dinner party for us.
A great roll call of the great and good, of the liberal and central at any rate: Annans, Donaldsons, Mosers, Bonham Carters, Rodgers’, David Steel, Nigel Ryan,27 Edna O’Brien, John Gross’,28 Garry Runcimans,29 George Thomsons, Clarissa Avon (Eden) as a wild card. I can’t remember who else, but a large and enjoyable party.

  SATURDAY, 5 APRIL. East Hendred.

  No papers, so into Wantage, perhaps mistakenly as it turned out, to buy them. Discovered that the French Government, the Quai in particular, had launched a great onslaught on my Political Committee speech on the previous Tuesday. Quite why was not clear. I suppose all part of their ploy to try and neutralize me in advance of the European Council, feeling that I had opened up the possibility of special measures for Britain last time and believing, because they are incapable, I think, of believing anything else in view of the way they behave themselves, that I am a British agent, which is hardly the case. However, their reaction, though ridiculous and unwarranted, was mildly depressing.

  MONDAY, 7 APRIL. East Hendred.

  Gilmours to lunch. It didn’t rain, as it usually does when Ian is here. Ian did not have a great deal to say about budgetary questions, though obviously developing a certain optimism. No reaction from him, and therefore presumably no mutterings in the Foreign Office, about my Political Committee speech. On the centre party he was quite interesting and more favourable, I would judge, than when I last talked to him. At one stage he said firmly he thought I would (from my point of view) be right to go ahead, though obviously there were risks. I think he would probably like to see Heath involved, and said: ‘You and Ted would be a formidable combination.’