Eventually they appointed the two they had probably wanted from the beginning, but not before they had brought me also to feel that they were the best choices. And in the course of leading me to their conclusion they gave me a very good familiarization course in Italian politics, encouraging me to discussions with all political parties, Communists included. It was a very elegant performance, and in my view not at all cynical.
The Germans handled matters less happily. It is one of the paradoxes of Europe that while the Federal Republic has always been a massive and crucial supporter of the European ideal, and indeed of the policies necessary to achieve it, it has never since the end of Hallsteinâs day adequately sustained the European institutions. This has shown itself in two ways: first in a German governmental habit, epitomized by Chancellor Schmidt towards the end of the Ortoli presidency, of complaining at large about the Commission; and second, insofar as there was any force in the first point, doing their best to prevent its being corrected by resolutely refusing to appoint first-rate people to Brussels. This applied not merely to their Commissioners (although Ralf Dahrendorf, 1970â4, had been an exception) but also to their Permanent Representatives to the Community. In my experience Germany never exercised an intellectual weight in COREPER (the Committee of Permanent Representatives of the member states) commensurate with either its pre-eminent economic position or withthat of the lesser economies of France, Britain or Italy. Nor was its position in the Commission any better.
In part, but only in part, this stemmed from the deep-seated reluctance of post-1945 Germany to play a strong political hand. Much of the stage of modern Europe has been occupied with, on one side, the British and the French, each in their different way, trying to exercise a power somewhat beyond their capacity, and on the other, the Germans trying to push it away like a magnet trying to reject metal. On the reverse side of this coin were the strenuous but unavailing attempts of the Bundesbank to prevent the D-mark becoming a reserve currencyâin complete contrast with the British clinging on to the Sterling Area into the 1960s.
Nevertheless there was something more to this German attitude than a simple
nolo episcopari.
There was an unease with, leading to a certain distaste for, the complicated dance of international
hauts fonctionnaires.
It was utterly unlike the French attitude, close though the Franco-German partnership was becoming in those years. Whatever its causes, however, this almost shoulder-shrugging indifference on the part of the Germans created a weakening semi-vacuum in the heart of Europe.
It exhibited itself strongly during my consultations with the Bonn Government, and marked the first real setback of that autumn of preparation. This must be seen against the background of my very high expectations of the Germans. I regarded Schmidt (as indeed I still do) as the most constructive statesman of that period, and the one with whom I had the easiest personal relations. I regarded their Government as a model of centre-left internationalist good sense, and likely to be my strongest champions in any battles that lay ahead.
As late as 2 November I was still being encouraged by Schmidt to seek two new German Commissioners. I should have noticed on that visit that a very much more reserved attitude was being taken by other ministers, most notably by Hans-Dietrich Genscher, the Foreign Minister and leader of the Free Democrats.
I overestimated the power of the Chancellor. As soon afterwards as 15 November he told me that he could not do it. The political pressures were too great. The FDP insisted on their existing Commissioner being renominated and the trade unions were equally adamant about the long-serving SPD one from their ranks. It wasan early lesson to me of the dangers of putting too much âtrust in