European Diary, 1977-1981 Read Online Free Page A
Author: Roy Jenkins
princesâ, i.e. leaders of governments faced with domestic political difficulties. It was also a classic example of how to get the worst of both worlds. The two German Commissioners (both of whom had considerable and engaging qualities, although the one in my view did not have energy and the other did not have weight) knew that I had tried to replace them and had failed.
Furthermore, it presented me with a severe practical problem. It was my firm view that, with Ortoli in Economic and Monetary Affairs, the Germans must have the other obviously major portfolio of External Relations. This was so both for reasons of balance and because a German was more likely than most to conduct relations with the Americans and the Japanese on the liberal lines which I desired. But I did not believe either of them to be up to the job which Christopher Soames had done with conspicuous success in the Ortoli Commission. I was therefore faced with the dismal prospect that the new Commission, so far from having a new authority with which to relaunch Europe, would look less convincing to the outside world than the previous one had done.
This produced a sharp change of mood six weeks before I was due to go to Brussels. During the preceding four or five months I had been in a higher state of morale than at any time since 1971, if not earlier. Once the decision to go to Brussels had been finally made, I felt both liberated and exhilarated. I realized how ill the shoe of British politics had been fitting me for some years past. I also exaggerated, encouraged by the enthusiasm with which they had greeted my appointment, the extent to which I could persuade the governments to do what I wanted. During the summer and the first half of the autumn most things seemed possible and difficult decisions did not oppress.
No doubt the period of semi-euphoria would in any event have corrected itself as the happy prospect of preparing for an exciting new job gave way to the harsher reality of having within a few weeks to plunge into the complexities of actually doing it. The German experience therefore probably did little more than tear along a perforation which was already there. But that it certainly did. I remember that on 11 November, my birthday as it happened, the Prime Minister, walking through the division lobby with me, had lightly enquired (but not I think as a birthday greeting)whether I was still available to be Chancellor of the Exchequer. Sterling was crashing, the Governmentâs economic policy appeared in disarray, and there was a good deal of press and parliamentary speculation about a change from Denis Healey. I would at least have been buying at the bottom of the market. However my mind was fixed on Brussels and I took Callaghanâs suggestion even less seriously than he had made it. The following week after my next visit to Bonn, I might have been tempted to give him a more forthcoming reply.
In reality, of course, I could not possibly have changed direction at that stage. The juddering would have been appalling: my assembled
cabinet
to be stood down, the Brussels house to be un-rented, my constituency farewells to be unsaid, not to mention the governments of Europe whose every suspicion about the insularity of the British would be confirmed. So I settled down to the last stages of preparation, and in particular to the untying of the knot of portfolio allocation. But it was never quite âglad confident morning againâ.
The portfolio issue was perplexing. It was crucial to the effective functioning and repute of the new Commission. It also involved relations with twelve individuals, several of them of potential prickliness, with whom I was going to have to spend the next four years; and with the governments of the nine member states, without considerable goodwill from which nothing could be done. Obviously some governments were more important than others, as were some portfolios, of which in any event there were not enough
Furthermore, it presented me with a severe practical problem. It was my firm view that, with Ortoli in Economic and Monetary Affairs, the Germans must have the other obviously major portfolio of External Relations. This was so both for reasons of balance and because a German was more likely than most to conduct relations with the Americans and the Japanese on the liberal lines which I desired. But I did not believe either of them to be up to the job which Christopher Soames had done with conspicuous success in the Ortoli Commission. I was therefore faced with the dismal prospect that the new Commission, so far from having a new authority with which to relaunch Europe, would look less convincing to the outside world than the previous one had done.
This produced a sharp change of mood six weeks before I was due to go to Brussels. During the preceding four or five months I had been in a higher state of morale than at any time since 1971, if not earlier. Once the decision to go to Brussels had been finally made, I felt both liberated and exhilarated. I realized how ill the shoe of British politics had been fitting me for some years past. I also exaggerated, encouraged by the enthusiasm with which they had greeted my appointment, the extent to which I could persuade the governments to do what I wanted. During the summer and the first half of the autumn most things seemed possible and difficult decisions did not oppress.
No doubt the period of semi-euphoria would in any event have corrected itself as the happy prospect of preparing for an exciting new job gave way to the harsher reality of having within a few weeks to plunge into the complexities of actually doing it. The German experience therefore probably did little more than tear along a perforation which was already there. But that it certainly did. I remember that on 11 November, my birthday as it happened, the Prime Minister, walking through the division lobby with me, had lightly enquired (but not I think as a birthday greeting)whether I was still available to be Chancellor of the Exchequer. Sterling was crashing, the Governmentâs economic policy appeared in disarray, and there was a good deal of press and parliamentary speculation about a change from Denis Healey. I would at least have been buying at the bottom of the market. However my mind was fixed on Brussels and I took Callaghanâs suggestion even less seriously than he had made it. The following week after my next visit to Bonn, I might have been tempted to give him a more forthcoming reply.
In reality, of course, I could not possibly have changed direction at that stage. The juddering would have been appalling: my assembled
cabinet
to be stood down, the Brussels house to be un-rented, my constituency farewells to be unsaid, not to mention the governments of Europe whose every suspicion about the insularity of the British would be confirmed. So I settled down to the last stages of preparation, and in particular to the untying of the knot of portfolio allocation. But it was never quite âglad confident morning againâ.
The portfolio issue was perplexing. It was crucial to the effective functioning and repute of the new Commission. It also involved relations with twelve individuals, several of them of potential prickliness, with whom I was going to have to spend the next four years; and with the governments of the nine member states, without considerable goodwill from which nothing could be done. Obviously some governments were more important than others, as were some portfolios, of which in any event there were not enough
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