Charlemagne

A hopper but not a pleaser

European leaders are grudging in their backing for the European Commission president

SOME years ago, when Charlemagne was living in China, he heard complaints that the kangaroo in Beijing Zoo was a very dull animal. The “pouch rat” (as kangaroos are known in Mandarin) just sat there looking miserable, it was said. It did not jump or move at all, no matter how many people prodded it.

Beijing’s kangaroo came to mind at the summit of European Union leaders that ended on June 19th with a provisional decision to grant José Manuel Barroso a second term as president of the European Commission. The EU’s 27 national leaders backed Mr Barroso unanimously, but some were pretty grudging. Their grumbling boiled down to the following thought. Mr Barroso is not much of an inspirational boss for Europe and he seldom takes the lead, no matter how much we prod and humiliate him.

Thanks to pressure from France and Germany, Mr Barroso was not given a legally binding nomination. He must now wait and see if the European Parliament holds a vote on his re-election in July, or drags things out until autumn, a delay that could carry real dangers for him. This came after Mr Barroso endured a strange pantomime of a job interview, at which he presented a programme for the next five years, again at the request of France and Germany. In his letter to leaders, he trawled for German support with talk of a “social market economy” and fostering Europe’s “industrial base”. He reassured Anglo-Saxon types with talk of rejecting protectionism, then wooed the French with a pledge to promote “the development of our agricultural sector”.

At the summit’s end, France’s Nicolas Sarkozy was asked by reporters what he admired about Mr Barroso’s record. With a sour look, Mr Sarkozy ventured that the commission boss contributed to the “success” of the French presidency of the EU in the second half of 2008. He also said that he remembered nothing at all about the first half of the Czech presidency that succeeded it, though he praised the new technocratic prime minister, Jan Fischer, who chaired the summit, for being “calm and intelligent”.

Germany’s chancellor, Angela Merkel, is keener than Mr Sarkozy on Mr Barroso being approved by parliament in July. She called on her fellow leaders to give Mr Barroso a round of applause when he finished his presentation. Yet only hours later, she mocked the commission president while chatting with German reporters, late on the summit’s first night. How Mr Barroso had pestered her for assurances of support, she sighed. She had finally been forced to say to him: “José Manuel, I support you but please leave me alone on this subject now.”

Such sniping goes down a treat with Euro-types in Brussels, many of whom are loud in their disdain for Mr Barroso. They yearn for a strong commission boss like Jacques Delors, a Frenchman who bulldozed and outmanoeuvred national leaders into endorsing big leaps forward in EU integration, such as the creation of the internal market and the single currency, during his ten years in charge from 1985 to 1995.

But the same, crucially, is not true of the 27 national leaders of the EU. Put a modern-day equivalent of Mr Delors before an EU summit, and he would not be chosen. As a senior European politician recalled recently, Mr Delors had the near-automatic backing of France and Germany. He also usually had the Benelux countries and Italy on board, as well as newcomers like Spain and Greece. In short, in that far-off Europe of 12 members, Mr Delors’s main job was usually to overcome British opposition. Today’s Europe of 27 is unrecognisably different. Nowadays, France and Germany disagree as often as they concur on EU policies (their latest dispute concerns budget deficits for euro-area countries: Ms Merkel wants them reduced as soon as the crisis permits, Mr Sarkozy says that deficits are not always bad and insists that “austerity” policies would be a mistake).

The Benelux countries no longer share a vision of Europe. Belgium and Luxembourg remain keen on ever closer union. But Dutch voters are in a terrible mood about the cost of Europe, and the impact of enlargement. Spain remains strongly pro-European, but Italy’s political leaders, playing to public fears about immigration and crime, frequently test the limits of EU laws on open borders and free movement. And enlargement to the east has changed Europe forever. If the Lisbon treaty is eventually ratified by all 27 EU members, it will be the last treaty of its type, says a senior figure from the constitutional convention that drafted the first version of what became Lisbon. New members like Poland and the Czech Republic were still candidates for entry during the convention, and so meekly took “orthodox positions”, he says. That will not happen again.

Credit where it is due

Given this fragility of the EU at 27, you might think that Mr Barroso would earn more credit for his pragmatism and tireless pursuit of consensus and unity. Even his critics concede that he is a man of acute political instincts. Most, if pushed, will also admit that he is a far more effective administrative boss than his two predecessors, the hapless Jacques Santer and the clever but incoherent Romano Prodi. So why was the mood so glum at the summit as national leaders backed Mr Barroso for another term?

If he does not enthuse some leaders, it is perhaps because Mr Barroso incarnates their bad conscience about their nationally minded behaviour. The more honest know they would not tolerate a commission boss willing to push their government into a corner and outvote them in the name of Europe. The more sensible know that such a chief could break the EU apart. But political leaders are hypocrites like everyone else. They do not enjoy admitting painful truths to themselves, so they transfer their guilt to Mr Barroso. That is unfair, but such is life. Just ask the zoo visitors who blamed the kangaroo for being depressed.