Thursday, 17 June 2010

Europe has fallen for the Tories,

but a quarrel is in the offing

David Cameron must be prepared to upset his new friends

if Britain is to maintain its sovereignty, argues Benedict Brogan.

David Cameron gives a press conference prior to a meeting of the European Council; Europe has fallen for the Tories, but a quarrel is in the offing; AFP
Cameron gives a press conference prior to a meeting of the European Council Photo: AFP

David Cameron slept in the heart of Europe last night, and this morning will be clasped to its bosom. Those Conservatives hoping to witness something akin to Jesus clearing out the temple when the Prime Minister makes his first appearance at a Brussels summit are set to be disappointed by an epic display of back-slapping and glad-handing. For Europe has fallen madly, deeply, improbably in love with the Tories.

A week or so before the election, it looked so different. Someone in the Foreign Office drafted a letter setting out the "straight-talking" approach to be adopted by the new administration. The author, and indeed the rest of Whitehall, had read the runes: Mr Cameron wanted a fight.

For their part, the chancelleries of Europe could scarcely disguise their disdain for these Tory barbarians who appeared eager to smash the euro-consensus. For months, Her Majesty's ambassadors were warning of a diplomatic apocalypse if, as predicted, their new masters started to reshape Britain's European relationships with a large stick. Here and in Brussels, preparations were made for major changes in tone and substance.

In the end, the letter was never sent – and both the Foreign Office and its counterparts have had to tear up their prepared scripts. All the assumptions about how Mr Cameron would address an issue that has long poisoned his party have been overturned.

Partly, this is due to the creation of the Coalition: the deal with the Lib Dems required that Tory talk of repatriating powers would be dropped, which suited Mr Cameron, because it allowed him to focus on the necessity of reducing the deficit. But that alone would not have prevented the confrontation feared by Brussels, and hoped for by many in the Tory party. The truth is that ministers have engaged with their European counterparts – and with the European Commission – with a single-minded seriousness that has surprised.

The clues were there before polling day. Mr Cameron and William Hague always talked of positive engagement with the EU. Those who chose to focus on the spectacle of the Conservative withdrawal from the EPP block in the European Parliament, and the formation of a new centre-Right grouping with fringe parties of varying credibility, confused the symbolism of that gesture with the gravity of the leadership's intent.

On a pre-election trip to Brussels by members of the shadow cabinet, the Commission was impressed. When Michel Barnier, the arch-Chiraquiste Frenchman, was appointed as the EU commissioner overseeing financial regulation and the single market, one of the first calls he received was from George Osborne, the then shadow chancellor, whom he described as "intelligent and sympathetic".

Since the Coalition was formed, the love-in has intensified. The first minister to go to Brussels was Caroline Spelman, who stunned her new colleagues on the agriculture and fisheries council by chatting in fluent French and German, and showing a mastery of the brief. Mr Osborne followed with two visits in a week. He reassured his fellow finance ministers at his first Ecofin meeting with a sombre assessment of the British fiscal position, and delighted them by dropping Gordon Brown's persistent demands for a written commitment to the need for fiscal stimulus.

Of course, as a former EC bureaucrat, Nick Clegg has had no difficulty in impressing when on his European tour. With his colloquial Spanish and easy German, he stood out after the monoglot years of Labour and Gordon Brown. Yet European politicians who assume that Mr Clegg represents a parallel diplomatic track to Mr Cameron are in for a rude awakening. Anyone in Whitehall or Brussels who hopes to play the Prime Minister off against his deputy will discover that policies and minutes will be in both of their names. Indeed, Mr Clegg is intent on playing the role of the bad cop, and using his European credentials to deliver some difficult messages about the need for EU economies to sort themselves out. He wants a public debate about the Union's economic problems, even if it risks dragging Britain into a discussion of what the solutions might be.

Then there is Mr Cameron, who has had an equally powerful effect on his colleagues. Nicolas Sarkozy is smitten: French diplomats report his excitement at dealing with a British leader who is pragmatic and serieux. Angela Merkel, who bore a grudge over Mr Cameron's withdrawal from the German-led EPP, has come to admire his directness. She is also, some whisper, finding his smooth civility easier to deal with than the Gallic unpredictability of M Sarkozy, although it is unlikely that Mr Cameron will be able to exploit tensions between the German and French leaders. After Mr Cameron chose Paris and Berlin as his first foreign destinations, each leader made a point of reminding him that they had discussed his visit between themselves beforehand.

However, Mr Cameron should not get carried away – for despite this pleasant start, no amount of Ferrero Rochers can conceal the diplomatic difficulties that lie ahead. The EU is in crisis: stagnant growth, fiscal incontinence and growing market contempt for its sovereign debt. Germany is intent on pushing ahead with measures Mrs Merkel believes will counter the existential threat faced by her beloved euro. The Commission's answer is to tighten the fiscal straitjacket by requiring members to submit their budgets for approval by Brussels before they are debated by national parliaments. There are also plans to impose sanctions on countries that refuse to abide by central diktats, and to hold monthly summits to manage the crisis.

While the oversight of national budgets is believed to be subject to veto, the structural changes imposed by the Lisbon Treaty (on which Mr Cameron ruled out a retrospective referendum) mean that much of what the EU is contemplating can be imposed by majority voting, against which Britain would be powerless. For all today's jollity, British officials know that Mr Cameron will have to use his first summit to say "no" more than once, at a time when he has plenty of goodwill but few reliable allies apart from Fredrik Reinfeldt, the Swedish leader.

The big decisions will come in the autumn, and while the diplomatic savvy of Sir Kim Darroch, our man in Brussels, is being counted on to head off the worst of what is being planned, there are uncomfortable times ahead. Once the first flush of love has passed, the threats to British sovereignty will persist. The current warmth of the Coalition's relations with the EU is unexpected and striking, but are transient. There are terrible times ahead for the Union, when Mr Cameron's plain speaking will lose its appeal.

To this end, there was a purpose to Mr Cameron's choice of Sir Kim's house in Rue Ducale as a resting place on Wednesday. Not only did he save the taxpayer the best part of £2,000, but he had chosen a good base for what remains a campaign of national self-defence. A few doors down from the British Embassy is the house where the Duchess of Richmond held her ball on the eve of Waterloo. As he slept, did Mr Cameron perhaps not hear a deep sound rising like a knell? "The foe, they come, they come!"