Britain, France and the Battle for the Leadership of Europe, 1957-2007 (Routledge Studies in Modern European History) [1 ed.] 1032148985, 9781032148984, 9781003241645

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Britain, France and the Battle for the Leadership of Europe, 1957–2007

The book gives an account of an essential part of Britain’s troubled relationship with the rest of Europe after 1945 – particularly considering the rivalry of France and Britain between 1945 and 2007. The record of Britain’s relations with the rest of Europe, and in particular with France, from 1945 onwards was seen by the politicians and diplomats in charge of foreign policy very much in terms of a diplomatic battle. This is paradoxical given that European integration was supposedly aiming to create a European community. Although Britain has usually been seen as an at-best half-hearted participant in European integration, it nonetheless maintained its ambition to assume the leadership of Europe. This inevitably led to a confrontation with France which shared the same goal. This book begins by looking at the opposing ways in which these two ancient European rivals presented very different models for the sort of Europe they wished to see emerge. It goes on to consider the record of their rivalry between 1945 and 2007. After this, Britain effectively gave up the battle for the political leadership of Europe. This, however, should not obscure the fact that it had succeeded in imposing many of its social and economic models on Europe. This volume will be of interest to both undergraduate students and general readers interested in Britain’s position in Europe. Richard Davis is Professor of British history and politics at the Université de Bordeaux-Montaigne. He has published widely on the history of Britain’s relations with the rest of Europe in the twentieth century and is the author of Britain and France Before the War: Appeasement and Crisis, 1934–1936 (2001) and Britain in Crisis (1970–1979) (2016).

Routledge Studies in Modern European History

93 The Laboratory of Progress Switzerland in the Nineteenth Century, Volume 1 Joseph Jung 94 Border Regimes in Twentieth Century Europe Péter Bencsik 95 Catalonia A New History Andrew Dowling 96 The Laboratory of Progress Switzerland in the Nineteenth Century, Volume 2 Joseph Jung 97 The Brandt Commission and the Multinationals Planetary Perspectives Bo Stråth 98 Obscene Traffic Prostitution and global migrations from the Italian perspective (1890–1940) Laura Schettini 99 Mussolini and the Rise of Populism The Man Who Made Fascism Spencer M. Di Scala 100 Britain, France and the Battle for the Leadership of Europe, 1957–2007 Richard Davis For more information about this series, please visit: www.routledge.com/Routledge-Studies-inModern-European-History/book-series/SE0246

Britain, France and the Battle for the Leadership of Europe, 1957–2007 Richard Davis

First published 2024 by Routledge 4 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2024 Richard Davis The right of Richard Davis to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Davis, Richard, 1960 January 25– author. Title: Britain, France and the battle for the leadership of Europe, 1957–2007 / Richard Davis. Description: Abingdon, Oxon; New York, NY: Routledge, 2024. | Series: Routledge studies in modern European history | Includes bibliographical references and index. | Contents: Leading Europe— Fighting over Europe—Defining and directing Europe—Initial skirmishes—Rethinking Europe—Messina to the Treaty of Rome— Facing up to de Gaulle—EEC, FTA and EFTA: Europe at sixes and sevens—Taking on de Gaulle—Countering de Gaulle—Entering the EEC—Reforming and redirecting Europe—Maastricht, monetary union and enlargement—Last chance for leadership—European laggards and leaders. Identifiers: LCCN 2023008357 (print) | LCCN 2023008358 (ebook) | ISBN 9781032148984 (hbk) | ISBN 9781032149004 (pbk) | ISBN 9781003241645 (ebk) Subjects: LCSH: Great Britain—Foreign relations—France. | France—Foreign relations—Great Britain. | Great Britain—Foreign relations–1945– | France—Foreign relations–1945– | Europe—Foreign relations–1945– Classification: LCC DA47.1. D345 2024 (print) | LCC DA47.1 (ebook) | DDC 327.41044–dc23/eng/ LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2023008357 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2023008358 ISBN: 978-1-032-14898-4 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-032-14900-4 (pbk) ISBN: 978-1-003-24164-5 (ebk) DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645 Typeset in Times New Roman by Apex CoVantage, LLC

Contents

  1 Leading Europe

1

  2 Fighting over Europe

13

  3 Defining and directing Europe

29

  4 Initial skirmishes

41

  5 Rethinking Europe

52

  6 Messina to the Treaty of Rome

66

  7 Facing up to de Gaulle

81

  8 EEC, FTA and ETFA: Europe at sixes and sevens

102

  9 Taking on de Gaulle

116

10 Countering de Gaulle

133

11 Entering the EEC

151

12 Reforming and redirecting Europe

170

13 Maastricht, monetary union and enlargement

191

14 Last chance for leadership

203

15 European laggards and leaders

222

Index232

1 Leading Europe

The story of Britain’s relationship with the rest of Europe since 1945 is generally told in terms of Britain’s reluctance to take a full part in the European project, preferring instead the role of the ‘awkward partner.’1 For Eurosceptics, this was the consequence of Britain’s non-European position and outlook on the world, possibly of its essentially non-European nature. For those people who supported ‘remain,’ and who regarded Brexit with dismay, the story is one of missed opportunities and the short-sightedness of successive British leaders. Despite the undeniably strained relations with its continental neighbours, the leadership of Europe remained one of Britain’s main foreign policy aims before it effectively abandoned this diplomatic battlefield in 2016. Leadership ambitions are more usually associated with France, either alone or in tandem with Germany. In Britain, it was precisely the belief that the European Community was designed and led by the French and that it was even a ‘French plot deliberately designed to destroy the British way of life’2 that made it such an unattractive proposition to so many people. Looked at from London, Europe often appeared to be a problem that needed to be dealt with; from Paris, it was easier to see it as an opportunity. Successive French Presidents were keen to be seen as playing the leading role in Europe; their British counterparts were more reticent towards European questions. There were occasions when Britain and France, recognising their common interests, came close to reaching a compromise in which leadership of Europe could be shared. This, however, would have gone against centuries of AngloFrench rivalry. The opportunities for Franco-British cooperation in Europe were passed over. The long-established patterns of behaviour in their mutual dealings, and their deeply ingrained mistrust of each other, remained the norm. The projects for Europe put forward in London and Paris consistently came up against the other’s opposition. The plans of Jean Monnet and Robert Schuman in the 1950s for a federal Europe, de Gaulle’s ambition to build a ‘European Europe’ and later French-promoted ideas for a deepening of European integration, above all for a single European currency, were all resisted by Britain. British ideas for a free-trade Europe, closely tied to the Atlantic Alliance, were met with a DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-1

2  Leading Europe similarly hostile reception in France. Given their differences, it was inevitable that both the British and the French should see Europe and European leadership in an adversarial way. Both attempted to lead Europe in their chosen direction. Both feared that the other’s plans would instead mislead Europe, taking it down the wrong path. They sought to promote their objectives in Europe and, equally importantly, to obstruct those of their rival. Both were motivated by the fear that should they lose out in this race for the leadership of Europe they would find themselves relegated to a secondary, subordinate role, that instead of being the leader they would be among the led. On most major issues, from trade protection and the Common Agricultural Policy to the single currency, Britain and France found themselves on opposing sides. This frequently took on a personal dimension with tense, sometimes explosive, relations between British and French leaders, many of whom were all too ready to take up arms in what they saw as the latest campaign in the historic Anglo-French struggle. Outside the short-lived periods of reconciliation, Britain and France habitually fell back into a pattern of mutual acrimony, confrontation and accusations of bad faith. Early in 1963, in the aftermath of the diplomatic debacle that resulted from General de Gaulle’s veto of Britain’s EEC application, the Foreign Office concluded that ‘the battle for the leadership of Europe has opened.’3 In fact, this Anglo-French battle had already been going on for some time and it was to remain at the centre of both countries’ policies towards Europe for many years to come. The feeling that Britain had been defeated in this battle, that the leadership of Europe had become a lost cause, led to the British decision to leave the EU in 2016. The post-war international context presented Britain and France with some unwelcome challenges. The new bipolar world was now dominated by the two superpowers with the Europeans relegated to a second-class status. Their economic problems, their seemingly impending financial ruin and the threat of further Soviet expansion westwards made them dependent on American assistance. The dismantling of their empires added to their international troubles. In Europe, although Germany had been defeated and divided her potential strength continued to worry them. Both looked to an uncertain future while still trying to hold onto the past. Old mindsets and attitudes proved hard to change. The rapidly evolving international environment, however, left them with no other choice than to revise their thinking about their place in the world. This conclusion was reached reluctantly and late in the day. Both countries sought, as far as possible, to preserve their national sovereignty and to hold onto a post-imperial global role as well as a certain international standing. Other developments, however, were forcing them to confront some unpleasant new international realities. In the face of technological change, economic globalisation, and the relative decline of all European countries, even the largest, the need to make concessions became overwhelming. The integration of their armed forces into the Americanled Atlantic Alliance meant ceding a significant part of national sovereignty. Economic independence and the ability to operate at the national level were

Leading Europe  3 eroded by the expansion of international trade within larger global markets, the increased flows of capital around the world, and the growth of multinational companies. All this pointed to the obvious need to create a European bloc of some sort. This was widely accepted but there was no consensus as to the form any new structures should take, how far they should extend geographically or the powers and areas of competence they should be given. While all these questions were being debated, the European rivals, encouraged, supported or held back by other European and extra-European actors, began to jockey for position. With Germany temporarily down and out, the two candidates for the leading role could only be Britain and France. Leaders and followers After Brexit, any British claim to a leading role in Europe became unconvincing. The image of Britain as an uncomfortable and unhappy European, operating on the edge from its chosen semi-isolated position, was widely accepted well before 2016 not only in Britain but also across Europe. This fitted into the dominant discourse of both Europhobes and Europhiles, regretted by some and seen by others as evidence of the fundamental difference between Britain and the Continent, proof of Britain’s supposed exceptionalism. France, on the other hand, was recognised as one of the main promoters of European integration in the 1950s and, in later years, as part of the Franco-German motor driving European developments. French leadership of Europe may have become less evident over time as a result of the growing strength and confidence of Germany and the EU’s enlargements but France remained an essential part of the European Union. Britain’s participation in the various European institutions set up after 1945 was never a vital requirement. The other Europeans were successful in working together without the British alongside them. Some said that Britain’s absence made this easier. Nor did Britain always regard its membership of these European structures as either necessary or natural. Britain’s relations with the rest of Europe were paradoxical. It could not escape from its European identity. Indeed, this was reinforced after 1945 as its links with the Continent became more numerous. Britain’s national interests, above all its trade and its strategic concerns, became increasingly centred on Europe. Cutting itself adrift was never a possibility. Events on the Continent and the evolution of Europe as a whole had always been primary concerns for Britain. At the same time, British Governments were often unwilling to commit themselves to Europe. Their engagements with the Continent alternated between efforts to come closer in certain ways and to keep its distance in others. Despite this somewhat erratic relationship, successive British Governments from Attlee to Blair, like their French counterparts, never abandoned their leadership aspirations in Europe. Leadership was an instinctive impulse for the British and French. Both had long been used to playing this role and giving it up and assuming the position of

4  Leading Europe a middle-ranking power was strongly resisted. No leader in either country could publicly admit that they had been relegated to a relatively minor rank in world or European affairs. If leadership on a global level was slipping away from them, in Europe this remained a more realistic objective. This was all the more important in that leadership of Europe was seen as a means of playing a role alongside the superpowers, even if they could not rival them in absolute terms. Europe in this way would act as a multiplier of national strength, a way to reverse, or slow down, their decline on the global stage. Edward Heath, for example, saw British entry into the EEC in 1973 ‘in terms of finding a new outlet for British greatness, a new forum for British leadership.’4 De Gaulle made the same point more grandiloquently when he argued that France’s ‘natural leadership’ of Europe would allow it ‘to hoist itself up to the rank of a world power in the manner of an Archimedes lever.’ Europe would be ‘the means for France to become once again what she has ceased being since Waterloo: the first in the world.’5 What was a stake, therefore, went far beyond Europe. Later French Presidents, while accepting a degree of supranationalism that would have been anathema to the General, vigorously, and with some success, also looked to place France at the head of Europe. Their British counterparts pursued the same objective, although with somewhat less enthusiasm and less conviction. The motivations behind these ambitions to lead Europe had both positive and negative dimensions. At times, it was simply a question of wanting to run the show and to impose their own leadership rather than that of their rival. Leadership here was an aim in itself: to occupy the top spot and to keep others off it. Concerns for international rank and prestige were never far from British and French leaders’ minds. France has been seen as clinging onto ‘long-lasting national delusions of grandeur.’6 The same remark could be applied just as easily to Britain. There was also the ideological objective of sponsoring a social, political or economic model for Europe. The defensive aim of assuming the leadership was to avoid being relegated to a place among the followers. As a result, while both sides sought to promote their plans for Europe, they also pursued policies to obstruct those being put forward by the other. For de Gaulle, creating what he saw as a ‘European Europe’ was in large part driven by the desire to prevent Europe from being absorbed into a trans-Atlantic bloc. In the same way, British counterproposals were designed to block what they saw as de Gaulle’s plans for a protectionist ‘fortress Europe’ and a European ‘third force’ that would undermine the Atlantic Alliance. At times, Britain and France faced a common adversary in the shape of the European Commission and the supporters of a federal Europe such as Jean Monnet or Jacques Delors, although they rarely fought this particular battle alongside each other or simultaneously. They also shared the same underlying concerns about the growing strength of Germany although here again they rarely managed to coordinate their policies. Leadership required a sense of direction and an idea of where Europe should go. It was here that Britain was at a disadvantage. Britain’s timidity towards

Leading Europe 5 Europe was, in part, the result of the simple fact that none of her leaders, with the possible exceptions of Edward Heath and Tony Blair, were truly pro-European. The British approach was often uncertain and hesitant. Having failed to entirely convince themselves of the case for Europe, it was never likely that British leaders would be able to win over the waverers either at home or abroad, and even less that they would persuade their adversaries of the sincerity or the value of their approach. The British were slow in accepting the new international realities and they lacked a clear idea of where the country was going or what they wanted. As a result, they often seemed lost on the international stage. On the other side of the Channel, the leadership of France was more successful in establishing a well-defined idea of its international and European ambitions although this became increasingly difficult from the mid-1990s onwards. The British regularly adopted a negative outlook towards Europe, seeking leadership as much to obstruct the plans of others as to promote their own positive vision. British policies towards Europe were just as easily defined by what they did not want to see as by what they did. Ideas and initiatives in Europe were easily associated with French names, such as Schuman, Monnet and Delors, less so with anyone from Britain. The lack of European propositions from the British was, at times, almost total. Stephen Wall, the British representative in Brussels during the Major years, recorded that the directions he received from London could well have been simplified to ‘a one-line instruction: Just say no?’7 There were few examples of British leaders willing to break with past policies and traditional thinking or to take an imaginative leap of faith and make a clearcut commitment to Europe. The British were better at opposing in Europe than proposing, at reacting rather than acting, defining what they were against more readily than what they were for. Tony Blair, who liked to portray himself as a more positive player in Europe than his predecessors, recognised that there was ‘always a feeling that at best, the British role was to be the pebble in the shoe; the thing that made others stop and think; but not the one that did the walking.’8 The European debate in Britain was focused as much on the red lines beyond which they refused to go as on the initiatives they wanted to take to move Europe forward. Britain’s half-hearted engagement with the European project was well known. Criticisms of, and often outright opposition to, the European institutions characterised British policy towards Europe even as Britain became increasingly Europeanised. From the 1980s onwards, its connections with the Continent increased at the same time as Eurosceptic sentiments took deeper root in the country. While many British leaders adopted a negative and conflictual approach towards Europe, they nonetheless still wanted Britain to lead it. The language of leadership was always present in the British discourse. However, while the ambition to be a, perhaps the, leader of Europe was part of British thinking, the Europe they wished to lead was quite different from the one that was in place when they entered the EEC in 1973. British policy consistently sought to take Europe in a

6  Leading Europe more economically liberal direction, championing a free trade area in the 1950s and the single market in the 1980s with the free movement of goods and capital and the opening up of national markets to greater competition, without, however, supporting the creation of a single European currency or effective supranational authorities and regulations to manage these. Later opt-outs from the Euro and certain aspects of European social policy increasingly placed Britain on the European fringes. For many people in Britain, the failure to redirect Europe along the lines they sought led to a growing sense of disillusion. In France, there was a corresponding sense of frustration at being held back in Europe by British obstruction. This and the widening gulf between the British and French perspectives on Europe fed into the tendency both in Paris and in London to regard each other as their main European challenger. Numerous British and French leaders after 1945 put their country forward as the natural leader of Europe, backing up these claims with the argument that no other country could possibly play this role. George Brown, Foreign Secretary in Wilson’s Government (1966–68), believed that Britain’s role is to lead Europe. . . . We are, and have been for eleven centuries since the reign of King Alfred, one of the leaders of Europe. It may be that Britain is destined to become the leader of Europe. . . . It is our business to provide political leadership.9 De Gaulle was even more assertive of France’s claim to the same position. He even widened this role, presenting France as the ‘champion of humanity’ whose ‘universal vocation went far beyond that of any other country. France is the light of the world. Her genius is to light up the universe.’10 This sense of French universalism and belief in its mission to lead Europe had deep historical roots going back as far as Napoleon, the Revolution and Louis XIV. Numerous French politicians continued to present France’s role in Europe and around the world in similar Gaullist terms into the twenty-first century. British leaders were less likely to use such grandiose language but their faith in Britain’s international mission to lead was expressed in other ways. The tendency to sermonise, lecture and hector other Europeans was as much a British trait as a French one. Both believed that they knew what was best for the rest of Europe and both often claimed to be speaking on behalf of European interests in general, even if the other Europeans didn’t agree with them. Britain, no less than France, presented itself as a model for the other Europeans to follow. While the British and French seemed intent on playing out their ancient rivalry, looking to place themselves in the European ascendancy, others in Europe were calling for a more collective form of leadership. Having a British or French leader, with the others lining up behind, was obviously less appealing elsewhere in Europe than it was in London or Paris. As the EEC of the ‘Six’ grew into the European Union of twenty-seven members, the likelihood of one or two countries imposing their leadership on the others became both harder

Leading Europe 7 to envisage and less relevant. At the same time, the alternative of an effective supranational authority was never entirely accepted given the strong resistance to a large transfer of sovereignty away from the nation-states. The result was a hybrid form of European governance. With a growing number of member states and the introduction of numerous non-state actors, leadership in Europe inevitably became more collective, dispersed between various bodies and institutions and between their member states in a variable mix of intergovernmentalism and supranationalism. National governments and national leaders did not, however, abandon their ambitions, if not in terms of outright leadership then at least in terms of exercising influence over decisions reached at the European level and over the future direction that the new Europe should take. Anglo-French relations After 1945, the British continued to focus on France and the French when they looked towards Europe. In part, this was the consequence of the long and complex relationship between the two countries. France, Britain’s closest continental neighbour, had for centuries been its principal rival and adversary. At the same time, it was in France that many of the solutions to Britain’s European problems were sought. France, on the other hand, redirected its attention away from Britain and towards its other continental partners, above all Germany. In the Gaullist analysis, Britain was losing its importance, even its individual identity, as it was absorbed into what the French increasingly referred to as the ‘Anglo-Saxons,’ a term that became ubiquitous in French discourse when addressing the British. Relations between Britain and France were never easy or consensual. After 1945, although they remained allies in the broader conflicts facing them and continued to share the same fundamental social and economic values, the occasions when the two countries coordinated their actions in Europe were few and far between. Their European objectives seldom coincided. Each set out a model for Europe reflecting its values and interests. Their differences led to sharp clashes over the CAP, protectionism and free trade, relations with the United States and the sensitive questions of the budget contributions and the financial benefits to be drawn from Europe. While they shared certain interests in Europe and, at times, recognised that collaborating would be the best way of achieving their goals, their relationship remained strained. The contrast between their shared interests and their inability to work effectively together was summed up in a Foreign Office paper in January 1962. This came to two broad conclusions: first that ‘French and British interests in the world of today are becoming more and more similar,’ that ‘the Russian threat, still more than the previous German threat, imposes Anglo-French solidarity,’ and second that the history of this country has shown that the French have never been exactly easy allies or partners in foreign affairs . . . we have learnt that if the

8  Leading Europe French are crossed or suspicious of our motives they have a positive genius for making life difficult for us out of all proportion to their real power or influence.11 For Michael Stewart, the Labour Foreign Secretary (1965–66 and 1968–70), ‘in the long run the French are natural if difficult allies.’12 The French took much the same view of the British. No matter how difficult their relations were, and however much they might have preferred to look in other directions and towards other partners, there was no way they could each go their separate way. Whether they liked it or not, they were forced to somehow live with each other. They gave up neither their fierce sense of competitive one-upmanship nor their compulsive comparisons. Whenever one enjoyed relative success over the other, they were more than willing to adopt a boastful tone and denigrate the less successful performance of their neighbour. There were significant ups and downs in all comparative fields but their relationship was, broadly speaking, one between equals interspersed with relatively brief periods of one side’s supremacy over the other. That they were so well matched made the comparisons between them all the more pertinent. Competition between them was never far from the surface, and gaining the upper hand over their most ancient rival was always greeted with delight whether this was on the sporting, diplomatic or any other field. Few countries were so willing to play what Dominique de Villepin, the French Foreign Minister, described during the Iraq crisis of 2002 as the ‘blame game.’ Using each other as a scapegoat was a convenient means of avoiding responsibility for policy failures. ‘When in doubt blame the French/British’ was an easy card to play for leaders on both sides of the Channel. As Christopher Mallaby, the British Ambassador to Paris (1993–96), pointed out, the ‘intermingled history’ of Britain and France was marked by ‘a sense of rivalry, a readiness to criticise, a reciprocity of schadenfreude where the British and French press leap at opportunities to report the troubles of the other country.’13 For Douglas Hurd, Foreign Secretary from 1989 to 1995, there will always be an element of tease and rivalry in the relationship between France and Britain. To take mild pleasure in each other’s small setbacks . . . is part of the give and take of life in our two countries. It is born of our history. . . . From time to time this friendly competition and rivalry degenerates into real irritation and bad-tempered tension.14 Hurd was right to argue that this does not detract from the community of interest between the two nations or from the need for them to work together. Yet the steady flow of such teasing, and the frequency with which it spills over into ill-tempered exchanges, deliberately so at times, often damaged the effective

Leading Europe 9 working of the Franco-British relationship. One report from the British Embassy in Paris in the 1960s saw the two countries as oldest friends and worst enemies. . . . At one moment (they) seem by their circumstances and common heritage to be natural partners in an uncertain world; at another they are like scorpions in a bottle seeking to escape or ignore each other, or, with a certain relish, to do each other harm.15 It went without saying that there was an almost instinctive mutual suspicion between Britain and France. For the French, perfide albion had so frequently shown her true colours over the centuries that the idea had become a permanent feature of French thinking towards its neighbour. The British replied in kind. Neither side trusted the other to keep a secret as the unfortunate Soames affair in 1969 showed. Selective leaks and smears were always part of their diplomatic exchanges. De Gaulle complained of ‘Anglo-Saxon hypocrisy’;16 Macmillan of ‘French insincerity and trickery.’17 Accusations of deceit and double-crosses were regularly made. Thatcher’s advice to Blair when they met in May 1997 was simply that the ‘French cannot be trusted.’18 These feelings extended across the two main political parties in Britain. Throughout the Labour Party, well into the 1990s, there was a deep-rooted suspicion of all things European, including a sense of superiority over their continental socialist comrades. Similarly, British Conservatives were often unwilling to work with continental Christian Democrats. British politicians’ and diplomats’ mistrust of their French counterparts was nonetheless accompanied by a certain grudging admiration and respect for their ‘Machiavellian cunning.’19 For Macmillan, for example, there was always a fear of being ‘ “outsmarted” by the extraordinary skill of French diplomacy, equally agile and resourceful in victory and in defeat.’20 Hurd recorded that, as a young diplomat, he was rather terrified of the French . . . there lingered for a long time a feeling that it was not quite safe to have a discussion with a Frenchman, not because he would deceive you but because he was actually cleverer. . . . He would outwit you.21 The difficulties in Franco-British relations were often aggravated by misunderstandings and a lack of empathy, at times by the language barriers between them. In one document drawn up for Wilson prior to his meeting with de Gaulle in January 1965, it was noted that ‘it is perhaps too long since the British and French Governments tried to understand each other.’22 At several crucial meetings, much was left unsaid or only implied. Communication between the two sides, even when they were speaking the same language, was not always guaranteed to lead to a full understanding. British and French records of the same

10  Leading Europe meetings often diverged suggesting that this had indeed been the case. Differing interpretations of events were carried forward by later generations of British and French historians and by the writers of memoirs. The belief that the two nations were fundamentally different – temperamentally, in their social, economic, cultural and political heritages, their different legal, ideological and philosophical traditions, and in their business models – were all used to underline the contrasting ways in which the two countries saw the world. Macmillan identified a ‘continental mind’23 that was distinct from that of the British. Attlee thought that the Treaty of Rome ‘expresses an outlook entirely different from our own.’ He accepted it might not be wrong, but, he said, ‘it is not our way.’24 The contrast was made between France’s traditions of Colbert with Britain’s attachment to the ideas of Richard Cobden and Adam Smith. Wilson even wrote of a ‘theological difference’25 between the British and French models for Europe. Personalities and personal relations It was perhaps in the nature of dominant politicians such as Charles de Gaulle, François Mitterrand, Margaret Thatcher, Tony Blair, Konrad Adenauer and Helmut Kohl to want to lead, rather than be led, not just at home but also in Europe. Sitting back and leaving the direction of Europe to be settled by others, especially if that other was Britain or France, were unthinkable for such strong characters. All of them looked instead to impose their ideas at the European level just as they did domestically. This inevitably produced some bitter clashes. Successive combinations of British and French leaders added to this tendency. Prime Ministers and Presidents constituted a rather unfortunate series of AngloFrench couples that were rarely harmonious on either an ideological or a personal level. De Gaulle and Thatcher would have made it difficult for any of their cross-Channel counterparts to establish a cordial relationship. Attlee and Bevin remained wary of their French colleagues. Both Churchill and Eden were, in their ways, Francophiles just as many of the French leaders of the late-1940s and 1950s were keen Anglophiles. None of them, however, established a genuinely close Franco-British relationship at a personal level. Churchill, for all his lofty Francophile proclamations, could be outrageously condescending to individual French leaders. Macmillan and Blair’s efforts to win friends in France went unrewarded. Eden, Wilson, Callaghan and Giscard barely even tried, placing little importance on cultivating their cross-Channel relations. Thatcher’s record was disastrous. Heath and Pompidou achieved an important entente but this was short-lived. Blair and Sarkozy in power might have provided the basis for a better relationship between the two countries but this must remain part of history’s ‘what ifs.’ Relations between British and French leaders certainly compared unfavourably with their respective relationships with their German and American counterparts. Anglo-German relations were often strained as, for example, between Macmillan and Adenauer. Thatcher’s relations with German leaders and

Leading Europe 11 her attitudes towards the Germans as a whole made it difficult to reach an agreement with Europe’s leading economic power. In comparison, relations between the French Presidents and German Chancellors were usually excellent. French Presidents, however, rarely established a personal rapport with the Americans while Anglo-American relationships were often particularly warm. Notes 1 George, Awkward Partner. 2 Warner and Deighton, “British Perceptions,” 8. 3 FO 371/169107, 19 January 1963. 4 Campbell, Heath, 115. 5 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 159. 6 Drake, “France on Trial,” 464. 7 Wall, Reluctant European, 226. 8 Quoted in Daddow, New Labour, 1. 9 George Brown, My Way, 202–5. 10 De Gaulle, Renouveau, 201; Tournoux, La Tragédie, 494. 11 FO 371/163494, 9 January 1962. 12 CAB 124 C(66)16. 13 Chassaigne and Dockrill, Anglo-French Relations, 8. 14 Viot and Radice, “Envoi,” 288. 15 FO 146/4630. Quoted in Mangold, Impossible Ally, 20–21. 16 Peyrefitte, France reprend, 307. 17 Catterall, Prime Minister, 168. 18 Campbell, Blair Years, 206. 19 Milward, National Strategy, 367. 20 CAB129/95 C(58) 65 (nd.). 21 BBC, “Entente Cordiale,” 1–2. 22 PREM 13/317, 29 January 1965. 23 Horne, Macmillan, 243. 24 Hansard, 8 November 1962. 25 Wilson, Prime Minister, 321.

References BBC. “Entente Cordiale.” Presented by Charles Powell. Broadcast on BBC Radio 4, 8–29 September 1994. Brown, George. In My Way. London: Penguin, 1971. Campbell, Alastair, and Stott, Richard, eds. The Blair Years. Extracts From the Alastair Campbell Diaries. London: Hutchinson, 2007. Campbell, John. Edward Heath. A Biography. London: Cape, 1993. Catterall, Peter, ed. The Macmillan Years. Prime Minister and After, 1957–1966. London: Macmillan, 2011. Chassaigne, Philippe, and Dockrill, Michael, eds. Anglo-French Relations 1898–1998. From Fashoda to Jospin. Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2002. Daddow, Oliver. New Labour and the European Union. Blair and Brown’s Logic of History. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2011.

12  Leading Europe De Gaulle, Charles. Mémoires d’espoir. Tome 1: Le renouveau. Paris: Plon, 1970. Drake, Helen. “France on Trial? The Challenge of Change and the French Presidency of the EU, July-December 2000.” Modern and Contemporary France, 9, No. 4 (2001): 453–66. George, Stephen. An Awkward Partner. Britain in the European Community. London: Oxford University Press, 1994. Horne, Alistair. Macmillan, 1957–1986. London: Macmillan, 1989. Mangold, Peter. The Almost Impossible Ally. Harold Macmillan and Charles de Gaulle. London: I. B. Tauris, 2006. Milward, Alan S. The United Kingdom and the European Community. Volume 1: The Rise and Fall of a National Strategy 1945–1963. London: Routledge, 2012. Peyrefitte, Alain. C’était de Gaulle. Tome 1: “La France redevient la France”. Paris: Fayard, 1994. Peyrefitte, Alain. C’était de Gaulle. Tome 2: “La France reprend sa place dans le monde”. Paris: Fayard, 1997. Tournoux, Raymond. La tragédie du Général. Paris: Plon, 1967. Viot, Jacques, and Radice, Gilles. “Envoi.” In Cross-Channel Currents. 100 Years of the Entente Cordiale, edited by Richard Mayne, Douglas Johnson and Robert Tombs, 288–90. London: Routledge, 2004. Wall, Stephen. Reluctant European. Britain and the European Union From 1945 to Brexit. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2020. Warner, Geoffrey, and Deighton, Anne. “British Perceptions of Europe in the Post-War Period (II).” In Les Europe des Européens, edited by René Girault and Gérard Bossuat, 51–66. Paris: Editions de la Sorbonne, 1993. Wilson, Harold. A Prime Minister on Prime Ministers. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1977.

2 Fighting over Europe

The profound changes that occurred in Europe after 1945, and the motivations of those countries and individuals that were leading the way in shaping them, have been the subject of much debate. On one level, Europe has often been seen as a forum in which the nation-states continued to compete. Beyond these traditional international rivalries, which provide only a partial and incomplete picture, there were numerous international institutions and non-state actors whose roles and relationships also need to be taken into consideration in any broader history of Europe and European integration. It was, however, in terms of power politics, international confrontations, winning and losing in a zero-sum game in which victory had to be won at the expense of others that most European leaders, especially those of Britain and France, looked at European affairs. The same attitudes dominated the media and were embedded in public opinion. British tabloids in particular often presented the European debate as a re-enactment of past conflicts against various European enemies. In this way, high politics, international diplomacy and popular culture interacted in numerous ways. The image of a Europe made up of rival leaders and followers, of cocks and hens in the words of one French Minister in the early 1960s, was by then already a somewhat outdated view. But it had deep roots in both countries where concerns for rank, prestige and leadership were still uppermost in many people’s minds. National leaders, none more so than the British and French, continued to reason in similar terms into the following decades, viewing Europe as much as a diplomatic battlefield as a partnership or community. Attitudes towards Europe were slow to change. The weight of history and past practices continued to be felt, especially in those countries with the longest national histories and the greatest sense of their own importance, past and present. Adapting to the changing European environment came more easily to those countries which, for various reasons, had less attachment to their pasts and fewer leadership aspirations. The countries of the Benelux could never have any such ambition given their size. Likewise, Italy never looked to play the leading part. Germany certainly had both the economic and financial strength to assume a leading, possibly dominant, role. Indeed, it was the fear of Germany’s natural strength that DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-2

14  Fighting over Europe convinced many other Europeans to accept an integrated Europe as the best way of preventing Germany from embarking on another attempt to overshadow its neighbours. Germany also provided some of the ablest European leaders from Adenauer, Brandt, Schmidt to Kohl and Merkel. As long-standing Chancellors, they were naturally placed at the centre of European affairs. The geography of Europe, with Germany at its heart, was also a factor, especially following the extension of the European communities eastwards in the 1990s. Germany, however, was always held back from assuming a prominent leadership role by its history. It was, therefore, left to the two remaining ‘big players,’ Britain and France, to fight over which of them should assume the mantle of European leader. British and French leaders, like many of their compatriots, tended to see Europe through a realist prism, as a stage for the rivalries and confrontations between nation-states. De Gaulle certainly thought in these terms, deriding those who ignored the ‘realities’ of international relations. The ‘basis of international life,’ he said, ‘is the struggle of national interests, their opposition or their passing agreement.’1 During the War, he told one of his supporters: ‘Our allies are also our adversaries. . . . War is against our enemies. Peace is against our friends. . . . The allies are foreigners. Tomorrow, they can become our enemies.’2 This was an idea that he never forgot. More ‘pro-European’ leaders like Mitterrand or Blair adopted a different tone when they talked of Europe and were more willing to allow the European institutions to assume a greater role than their predecessors in office. At the same time, no British Prime Minister or French President was ever willing to sacrifice what they saw as vital national interests or to see ‘Europe’ relegate their countries to a secondary level. This was always a more comfortable exercise for the leaders of France in that it was easier for them to assume that French and European interests were broadly alike. In this European jungle, Britain and France consistently regarded each other as their main, although not exclusive, rival. Both faced, or believed they faced, other adversaries. For de Gaulle, it was opposition to American influence that underlay much of his policy towards Europe. His successors in Paris were, in varying degrees, influenced by similar thinking. For Britain, there was a constant fear of a potential German hegemon in Europe, a fear shared at various times by French leaders. Both countries also saw the European Commission as a rival in the power struggles for leadership. After 1945, Britain and France could not realistically claim to be on the same level as the two superpowers although neither easily came to terms with their new international status. They had been relegated from the major international league but they were determined to at least occupy the top spot in the second. Britain in particular, by placing itself firmly alongside the United States in a ‘special relationship,’ and by holding onto its leading role in the Commonwealth, continued to regard itself as occupying a unique, and pivotal, international position. De Gaulle in his most grandiloquent moments placed France alongside the Soviet Union and the United States as the only countries that counted in world

Fighting over Europe 15 affairs. For both the British and the French, occupying a slightly higher position than their immediate rival in the international hierarchy provided a degree of compensation for having lost their place at the most exclusive international high table. The key to success in this competition for third place on the international podium was leadership in Europe. Both tended to see this as their natural place, an attitude that reflected their shared sense of superiority over the other Europeans. Elements of this national arrogance remained into the twenty-first century but it was accompanied by growing concerns for their weaknesses and relative decline in the world. These contradictory feelings produced an inconsistent mix of pessimism and uncertainty alongside an overestimation of their ability to achieve their aims. The sense of national weakness did nothing to diminish their willingness to fight their corner in Europe, usually in what ended up as an Anglo-French bout. Culture wars and language The Anglo-French battle in Europe was fought simultaneously on several fronts. In London, it was the economic and strategic dimensions that were the primary concerns. The French added their own particular soft power interests. If Europe was to have a cultural dimension, as the French wished, then they were determined that it should reflect French ideas; if it was to have a common language then it should be French and not English. For all Presidents, from de Gaulle to Chirac, the defence of the French language and culture was given a high priority. This was tied into their defence of France’s economic and political interests, part of their resistance against the threat of both Anglo-Saxon culture and the American penetration of European markets. The French, however, were fighting this particular battle from a disadvantageous position. De Gaulle’s attempts to disparage the English language were welcomed by some of his followers but he failed to make many converts to this cause. He attempted to brush off the threat when he recalled the quip of Charles V that ‘one speaks Spanish to God, French to men, Italian to women, and German to horses. . . . He doesn’t envisage speaking the Goddams’ idiom to anyone . . . even to horses!’3 On another occasion, he objected to the use of English acronyms such as ELDO (European Launcher Development Organisation) and UNESCO, although he thought that EFTA (European Free Trade Association) was of such little significance that it did not deserve to be translated at all. His concerns for the future of the French language were, nonetheless, serious. His fear, which turned out to be justified, was that French would no longer be the dominant language if Britain was allowed to play a greater role in European affairs. The linguistic battle broke out immediately when, as de Gaulle had predicted, the British entered the EEC in 1973. The French fought a determined rear-guard action but to little avail. The French press, for example, reacted angrily when Roy Jenkins gave his first formal statement as EEC Commission President exclusively in English. That his

16  Fighting over Europe French predecessor, François-Xavier Ortoli, had used only French on the same occasion a few years earlier was not considered as justification for Jenkins’s faux pas. Giscard’s determination to have ‘ECU’ adopted as the name of the future European currency and to add an ‘e’ to the Concorde was insignificant in the wider conflict where the French language was constantly losing ground. Whether these Anglophone assaults on the French language were deliberately made or not, there was no doubt that they were making rapid advances as English became the dominant working language of the Community. This was ‘a triumph to satisfy even the most sceptical Thatcherite.’4 This victory, however, was never celebrated in Britain where it was almost taken for granted that, as the Community grew in size, English would become the new lingua franca. Earlier fears that entering the Community would mean speaking and working in French, even forcing the British delegation to learn all the other Community’s languages, were quickly dissipated. Such fears were nevertheless exploited by opponents of British entry into the EEC. In 1971, James Callaghan warned, in his best jingoistic manner, of the threat that EEC membership would pose to ‘the language of Chaucer, Shakespeare and Milton.’5 He need not have been worried. On the one hand, the use of English as the principal working language of the European institutions gave the British a clear advantage over the other Europeans. On the other, the well-known linguistic limitations of the British continued to encourage a sense of separation from the Continent to the detriment of Britain’s European ambitions. Margaret Thatcher dismissed the idea of creating a single European polity partly for these reasons. How, she asked, could there be a real political debate in a European Assembly, a term she always preferred to Parliament, when it spoke so many different languages. It would, she concluded, end up being a tower of Babel, akin to the dysfunctional Parliament of the Hapsburgs.6 The declining use of their own language and the imposition of English also provoked a great deal of disquiet in France. The French passion for their language, which is seen as an essential part of French culture and national identity, goes far beyond any equivalent feelings in Britain. The irresistible rise of the English language in all spheres and the corresponding decline of French remain a source of considerable French resentment. France was clearly at a disadvantage in the linguistic field but the cultural battle was fought on a wide front where France was often in a much stronger position. French culture, its philosophy, the heritage of the Enlightenment and its role in all the arts were seen by many in France as giving their country a privileged position, one that no other country, least of all Britain, could rival. Naturally, Britain’s reputation in all these domains was markedly inferior, as many in France delighted in pointing out. Food was always a particular favourite reference for the French. Nothing better divided the two countries and reinforced their stereotypical images. Britain’s culinary inferiority was always a rich resource for the French when they considered their neighbours, frequently in a dismissive manner. In terms of popular culture, the British could be equally condescending

Fighting over Europe 17 towards their European neighbours. If British cooking was always the butt of French jokes so too was French pop music in Britain. Where the French could reel out their gastronomy to attack the inferior British, the British could hit back with the Beatles or the Rolling Stones. The language of conflict Language was itself a source of friction between the British and French. In turn, this, along with all the other forms of Anglo-French tension, was often described in warlike language. British diplomats regularly had recourse to a bellicose vocabulary. Pierson Dixon, the British Ambassador in Paris (1960–64), identified ‘an all-out fight for the leadership of Europe’ and thought that some ‘warfare’ was unavoidable in Anglo-French relations.7 Later generations of British diplomats continued to use similar turns of phrase. The French delegation in Brussels, for example, was accused of ‘carrying on the Hundred Years War by other means.’8 The press too frequently adopted the rhetoric of victories won, at the expense of the French in particular, and defeats suffered. The references to past battles from Hastings to the Battle of Britain were easily made. British politicians, even those most inclined to take a more positive approach in Europe, felt obliged to play the patriotic card. Europe was used as a political football as a means of winning support at home and scoring some easy points against political adversaries. British leaders often built up an image of themselves as the strong man/woman defending the nation in the guise of Saint George against the French-led European encroachments on British freedoms. In return, de Gaulle was happy to play the equivalent part of a latter-day Napoleon or Louis XIV, even of a Joan of Arc heroically defending France against the ‘Anglo-Saxons,’ repeating her famous success in driving the English out of France. Leaders in London and Paris may have made some short-term electoral gains by assuming these populist positions, but in the longer term they were fuelling the fires of a narrow French nationalism and British Euroscepticism. For some of the more pro-European British and French leaders, adopting this posture served only to undermine important parts of the very policies they were supposedly promoting. In Britain, the reality of operating inside the EEC/EU, and the inescapable give-and-take that this meant, was never easily translated into a convincing message in favour of Europe. Instead, compromises were condemned as ignominious withdrawals, as proof of politicians’ failure to stand up for Britain as soon as they crossed over onto the Continent. The use of this sort of language across much of the media had a significant impact not just on how events were related but also on the events themselves and on the actions of those involved. In Britain, this language constantly fed into the idea that Europe should be considered as a dangerous and hostile ‘other.’ The ways in which Eurosceptics and parts of the British press constantly returned to the history of the Second World War, even fifty years and more after the events, highlighted how easy it was to place

18  Fighting over Europe the European debate on such a negative terrain. Constantly reminding the British, and their European neighbours, of the War and encouraging their ‘propensity to see European politics through a wartime (movie) lens,’9 as the German Ambassador to Britain argued in 2018,10 served only to further envenom Britain’s already troubled relationship with the Continent. The weight of history There have been numerous competing mental maps of Europe based on history, and all British and French leaders, in varying degrees, approached the European debate within these frameworks. Their preference was usually for histories that emphasised their national stories and international conflicts. In particular, past Anglo-French relations provided a rich field from which to choose. The idea that ‘history serves as a political weapon for ongoing battles and to prepare positions for the future’11 was particularly applicable to Anglo-French relations from 1945 onwards. On both sides, history was looked to for examples and counterexamples, as justifications for certain policies, for inspiration and as a means to attack each other. Given their long and troubled relationship going back centuries and the lingering animosity between them, it was inevitable that, by looking so much to the past, they would only worsen their already-strained relationship. There were more than enough reasons for the two allies to clash; the idea that their present relations were simply the renewal of long-finished battles from the past added even more. Anglo-French histories provided a rich linguistic corpus full of military confrontations and duplicity. Historical references were constantly made by politicians and diplomats and taken up by the media. The British preference for Waterloo or Trafalgar was only natural. The French had plenty of historical memories of their own. Moreover, British and French readings of their common history rarely reached the same conclusions. When Britain, in the words of Margaret Thatcher’s Bruges speech, boasted, ‘Over the centuries we have fought to prevent Europe from falling under the dominance of a single power,’12 the French responded with accusations that Britain’s obstruction of European integration was the continuation of its traditional policy of divide and rule. The inclination was always to fall back into such antagonistic mindsets, to regard current diplomatic clashes over the future of Europe as the continuation of past battles, seeing in each other a traditional, even natural, adversary, and at times as an outright enemy. Rather than seeking to throw off these historical burdens, the British and French clung to them as though they could provide some useful guidelines in their ongoing battles and rivalries. Douglas Hurd regretted that people in Britain ‘seemed to read in history that we would always be worsted by continental Europeans except when we were fighting and killing them. Nelson and Wellington were to them the key figures, not Castlereagh, Palmerston and Salisbury.’13

Fighting over Europe 19 Wartime memories Historical references could be taken back several centuries, but it was the more immediate past that cast the deepest shadow over Anglo-French relations after 1945. Although Britain and France had been allies in the Second World War, it bequeathed a poisoned legacy that reinforced Anglo-French rivalry and resentment. The events of May–June 1940 and the collapse of the French and British armies left a deep mark on the two countries and on how they saw themselves and each other. For Britain, these decisive months were remembered for the ‘miracle of Dunkirk’ and the heroism of the Battle of Britain, something that could be celebrated as ‘Britain’s finest hour.’ For France, it was the ‘debacle’ leading to the ‘tragic hour’ of occupation and the collaboration of the Vichy regime. These events had long-term consequences for Anglo-French relations, particularly the difficulties Britain was to have later on with de Gaulle. The French veto of Britain’s free trade area proposal in 1958 was seen by one observer as a ‘working-off of accumulated feelings of inferiority.’ One Frenchman described this as ‘our revenge for your having liberated us in 1944.’14 Macmillan, who had worked alongside de Gaulle during the War and who was later to confront him as Prime Minister, believed: If we’d given in to Hitler we’d have had no trouble with de Gaulle. What he couldn’t forgive us is that we held on and that we saved France. People can forgive an injury but they can hardly ever forgive a benefit.15 Nicholas Henderson, the British Ambassador to Germany (1972–75), was given similar advice by his French counterpart in Bonn when he left to take up the same post in Paris. ‘Every day you are in France,’ he was told: do not forget two facts: firstly, that we had a Revolution, such as you have never had; secondly, that we were defeated in 1940, and you were not. You will find these facts relevant to all your dealings with the French.16 The bitter personal experiences of those on the Continent who lived through the War led many of them to look to the European movement as a guarantee of future peace. The Franco-German commemorations of the War, most famously at Rheims in 1962 with Adenauer and de Gaulle and in 1984 at Verdun with Mitterrand and Kohl, were evocative symbols of their reconciliation. The same feelings were less deeply felt in Britain. Where Britain’s political institutions and national reputation emerged unscathed from the War, the same could not be said on the Continent. Into the 1980s and 1990s, these radically different wartime experiences had a significant impact on attitudes to European integration. Those countries, such as Britain, whose institutions survived the various challenges of the first half of the twentieth century, were more inclined to look

20  Fighting over Europe to national solutions to their problems while those that did not were more willing to accept to work as a community. After 1945, having recently altered their constitutions, several continental countries were more amenable to the creation of another new, European, political structure while the British remained firmly attached to their existing institutions. British memories of the War also encouraged a critical and at times resentful attitude towards the other Europeans. As late as 1969, one British diplomat was still returning to the events of 1940, reminding his colleagues, as if they needed this, that the French had ‘fought without spirit and threw in the towel while they still had considerable means of resistance at their disposal.’17 In the 1960s, Clement Attlee told one newspaper, ‘I’m not very keen on the Common Market. After all, we beat Germany and we beat Italy and we saved France and Belgium and Holland. I never see why we should go crawling to them.’18 The same views were expressed by Thatcher, who had, according to one of her political secretaries, a tremendous belief . . . that England was better than other countries. . . . A phrase she used all the time about the European countries was, ‘We either beat them, or rescue them.’ Britain had neither been beaten, nor did it need to be rescued.19 This belief in Britain’s superior wartime record, and the condemnation of the weaknesses of the continental Europeans, re-emerged in a particularly aggressive fashion during the Iraq War in 2003 and again in 2016 during the Brexit debate. Britain’s constant parading of its wartime record went down well with some audiences at home but it was not so welcome elsewhere in Europe, particularly when it was still being reeled out decades after the events to generations that had no personal memories or involvement in them. Proudly highlighting Britain’s role during the War, standing alone, and therefore claiming a moral high ground, while at the same time reminding the continental Europeans of their less than glorious record, either as aggressors or as having offered only feeble resistance to that aggression or, worse still, of having collaborated with the aggressor, did nothing to improve Britain’s reputation or its relations with the rest of Europe. The constant replaying of these stories, in public discourses and various media, was an understandable source of irritation to Britain’s new European allies and partners. The British obsession with the War, in particular with the events of 1940, was not shared in France. The country’s failings leading up to the collapse of May– June 1940 were not ignored but the blame could, at least partially, be shared with Britain, particularly in Gaullist analyses. For de Gaulle, if France had been so weak in its reactions to German aggression, the cause was to be found as much in London as in Paris. Britain, he argued, forbade France from reacting to the German reoccupation of the Rhineland. She prevented us from opposing German rearmament. She let us down at

Fighting over Europe 21 Dunkirk. She happily bombarded our fleet at Mers-el-Kebir. She betrayed us in Syria. . . . The Second World War would never have broken out if, in the 1930s, we hadn’t become so used to leaving everything to the English.20 He added to this list of grievances Britain’s record during the First World War and in Suez. Perhaps most significant for the future of Anglo-French relations was his recollection of Churchill’s angry outburst on the eve of the D-Day landings when he had declared that he would always choose Roosevelt over de Gaulle and the open seas over the Continent. For de Gaulle, this was firm evidence of Britain’s essentially non-European identity. For the British, it was simply a recognition that American assistance was the decisive factor in holding out against, and finally triumphing over, Nazi Germany. The same conclusions were drawn after 1945, with the firm British conviction that only by maintaining United States’ support in Europe could its security and prosperity be assured. Britain and France also came head to head over other, more deeply rooted, lessons of history. The French belief in their universal mission encouraged them to assume a leading role in Europe. The British belief in their record of fighting European tyrants placed them in direct opposition to this. From Churchill to Boris Johnson, leaders in London employed such references to Britain’s past glories in order to reinforce present-day battles. In 1962, replying to Dean Acheson’s famous remark that Britain had ‘lost an empire and not yet found a role,’ Macmillan argued that he was making ‘an error . . . made by quite a lot of people in the course of the last four hundred years, including Philip of Spain, Louis XIV, Napoleon, the Kaiser, and Hitler.’21 The same themes were used during the Brexit debate when comparisons were drawn between opposition to the EU and Britain’s resistance to Nazi Germany. Even the ‘remain’ campaign could not resist returning to this history. Gordon Brown, in an attempt to defend Britain’s place at the centre of European affairs, also pointed to Britain’s record of resistance when he spoke of Britain having ‘led the fight in Europe against fascism, totalitarianism, anti-Semitism and racism, and which has never allowed any one power – whether it was France, Spain, the Netherlands, Germany or Russia – to dominate our continent.’22 This speech was presented as ‘a positive case for Europe,’ but if it was offering leadership, it was leadership of a resistance not of a campaign to take Europe in a new direction. Historically based anti-European sentiments were present in much of British political discourse into the 1960s and beyond. One example came from Hugh Gaitskell, the leader of the Labour Party, in 1962, when he warned his audience that although Europe has had a great and glorious civilisation, although Europe can claim Goethe and Leonardo, Voltaire and Picasso, there have been evil features of European history too – Hitler and Mussolini. . . . You cannot say what this Europe will be: it has its two faces and we do not know yet which is the one which will dominate.23

22  Fighting over Europe One of Harold Wilson’s closest advisers thought that his ‘observation of continental politics from the 1930s onwards did not convince him that very many Europeans were fundamentally democratic or had much to bring for Britain politically to learn.’ Wilson, he wrote, thought that ‘British democracy and the British Parliament were the most wonderful political systems and institutions ever invented.’24 Thatcher expressed the same view that Britain’s democratic credentials and political stability set it above the less fortunate Europeans on the Continent. Offering President Mitterrand a copy of Dickens’s A Tale of Two Cities on the occasion of the bicentenary of the French Revolution was a barely disguised, and undiplomatic, reminder of this. When she questioned France’s democracy and its claims to be the home of liberty, she was expressing a widely held British view of French history as veering between political instability and a quasi-autocracy. Germany was another source of British suspicions. Fears of a revival of German militarism abated after 1945, but as West Germany’s economic success grew, surpassing Britain, British concerns about German strength remained strong. In 1958, Macmillan warned: ‘Western Europe dominated in fact by Germany and used as an instrument for the revival of power through economic means . . . is really giving them on a plate what we fought two wars to prevent.’ One British official similarly warned that the EEC would provide ‘a means of re-establishing the hegemony of Germany.’25 Other anti-German sentiments were more overtly xenophobic. In 1960, one Labour MP dismissed the idea that Germany ‘is our normal ally and that there is no anti-German prejudice,’ adding that ‘If there is not there ought to be.’26 The denigration of other Europeans, especially of the French during the years of the Fourth Republic, was equally commonplace. By the 1980s, these sentiments were being forcefully expressed in the increasingly Eurosceptic, and sometimes xenophobic, British press. The British tabloids painted a particularly negative picture of Europe and its leading figures with the French, as always, as the most obvious targets. The Sun’s ‘Up Yours Delors’ headline and its portrayal of Jacques Chirac as a worm were just two examples of its anti-European and anti-French campaign. Such encouragement of Europhobia aggravated Britain’s relations with the rest of Europe and further undermined its leadership aspirations. The Anglo-French balance of power In the immediate post-war period, there were some understandable reasons for the British to look down on their continental neighbours. They relished doing just that. The relative wartime experiences of the two sides and the political instability on the Continent became deeply rooted in British thinking and attitudes towards Europe. By the 1960s and 1970s, any belief in British superiority had become much harder to justify. How Britain and France viewed each other followed a similar evolution. After 1945, France was seen in Britain very

Fighting over Europe  23 much as the sick man of Europe. By the early 1960s, the French economy had caught up with Britain and in the ensuing years, it overtook its ancient rival. By the 1970s, the British views of France had changed into something approaching admiration for its economic and technological progress. At the same time, French views of Britain went from seeing it as an essential ally that had to be held onto, to an object of disdain. While British policy towards Europe continued to focus on France, the French showed decreasing interest in their British neighbours. For de Gaulle, the British had so far sold out to the Americans that they were, in his worldview, relegated to the role of an American satellite. The relative situations swung back in Britain’s favour in the 1980s and 1990s as Britain’s economic performance improved, something which Thatcher and Blair delighted in pointing out to audiences on both sides of the Channel. Despite these positive economic results, the British position in Europe was always undermined by certain inherent weaknesses. The first was the lack of popular support for Europe in Britain and the failure to create a broad national consensus behind the policies that successive British Governments were seeking to promote. In the words of David Hannay, Britain’s Permanent Representative to the European Commission (1985–90), this meant that ‘British ministers travelling to European meetings dragged a heavy ball and chain behind them.’27 Both the Conservative and Labour parties were deeply divided over Europe, divisions that often extended to the heart of government. Opinion polls showed not only that British attitudes towards Europe varied enormously over time but also that they were consistently less favourable when compared to other European countries. Opinion polls in France suggested a greater willingness to support, or at least to accept, European integration although the results of French European referendums in 1992 and 2005 showed that this support was not always strong. The French political and economic elites, however, displayed a far greater proEuropean consensus than was the case in Britain. The European question in France rarely took on the deeply divisive and aggressively combative style that characterised the debate in Britain. This was the case between and within the main political parties and, equally importantly, in the discussions between British leaders and their counterparts on the Continent. Some saw this as a reflection of the confrontational nature of the British political system as compared to the more consensual forms on the Continent. While this may have been true for countries such as Germany, where coalitions were frequent, it could hardly have been applied to France where national cohesion and political consensus were rarely seen as its natural qualities. The second weakness was related to the position of the Prime Minister in London compared to that of Presidents under the Fifth Republic in France from 1958 onwards. This reversed the advantages British leaders had previously enjoyed over their French counterparts under the Fourth Republic when French foreign policy had been constrained by constant internal divisions. Before 1958, the French Présidents du Conseil rarely exercised clear authority over

24  Fighting over Europe individual Ministers, Governments came and went with alarming frequency and the French Assembly could make and break ministries and their policies with ease. This, however, was compensated for by an extremely competent administrative machinery operating behind the scenes that allowed France to continue to operate with a considerable degree of success in Europe. Despite its weaknesses, France was still able to propose an ambitious European agenda in the 1950s. The international prestige of British Prime Ministers, notably Winston Churchill, compared to the transient leaders in Paris, did not lead to any greater success for Britain in Europe. De Gaulle’s return to power in 1958, after a brief period in office at the end of the War, transformed the Anglo-French relationship in terms of both personalities and political institutions. The Fifth Republic has justifiably been described as a republican monarchy whose elected leaders have far fewer constraints on their conduct of policy, especially in the ‘reserved domains’ of foreign and defence policies, than British Prime Ministers working within the British parliamentary system and who have to face more effective oppositions, even from within the ranks of their own governments and parties. De Gaulle, more than any other French leader before and after him, enjoyed a dominant position. For most of his Presidency, he had an almost feudal relationship with his Ministers and followers, enjoying a form of quasi-absolutism. There were few restrictions on his conduct of foreign and defence policies and little space for any rival voices to be heard. None of his successors enjoyed the same status or had the same personal magnetism. None of them held office in the same extraordinary circumstances that brought him to power in 1958. They nevertheless continued to enjoy the advantages of the quasi-monarchical presidential regime. Personalities played a significant role in the efforts of Britain and France to place themselves in a leading position in Europe. Dominant leaders such as de Gaulle, Thatcher, Mitterrand and Blair saw themselves as being on a mission of national renewal. Part of this was their attempts to impose their visions on Europe. Each of them came into office after periods of national decline and doubt which they set about reversing. In 1962, one observer identified a ‘new mood of self-confidence’ in France resulting from its radically improved economic situation. The renewed sense of national self-belief instilled by the de Gaulle presidency meant that ‘diplomats who for years had been representing weak Governments or even mere caretaker administrations suddenly found themselves listened to again with respect.’28 A similar change of mood was noted by the British diplomat Robin Renwick in the early years of the Thatcher Government. He recorded his appreciation of the new and more forceful tone in British diplomacy encouraged by Thatcher in her dealings with the other Europeans after years of ‘being patronised by . . . friends and colleagues in the Quai d’Orsay at the time when France was riding high and Britain very low.’29 Under the assertive styles of leadership introduced by de Gaulle and Thatcher, British and French relations with the rest of Europe were pushed almost to breaking point. Their departures

Fighting over Europe 25 from the European stage were long anticipated and welcomed with relief by many of those who had suffered at their hands. They both remained in office for over a decade, leaving behind them legacies that can still be felt today, both at home and in their countries’ relations with the rest of Europe. The less robust national leaderships that resulted from personal ill health – Bevin, Churchill, Eden and Macmillan in Britain, Pompidou and Mitterrand towards the end of their tenures in France – or those resulting from a strong domestic opposition – John Major or Mitterrand and Chirac during their periods of ‘cohabitation,’ and almost all leaders of the Fourth Republic – necessarily weakened their positions in Europe. Allies and adversaries The outcome of the Anglo-French competition for the leadership of Europe was determined in large part by the relative strengths of their positions and by their ability to win the support of their allies. Britain and France could never have imposed their leadership on a series of unwilling followers, no matter how hard they may have tried. Winning over the others in Europe, convincing them of the benefits of the European model they were proposing, and, above all, building alliances was necessary if either country wanted to impose itself as the European leader. Even those national leaders most determined to place themselves and their countries in a dominant position in Europe recognised the need to work with others. There were times when a coalition of forces was strong enough to allow progress in a particular direction to be made. Occasionally there were significant leaps forward, for example, with the creation of the European Coal and Steel Community (ECSC), the Treaty of Rome, the Single European Act (SEA), the Maastricht Treaty and the introduction of the single currency. At other times, for example with the European Defence Community (EDC), de Gaulle’s Fouchet plan or the British proposal to create a free trade area, European initiatives proved to be too divisive to allow an effective coalition to be put together. Without a sufficiently strong momentum to push through changes against entrenched opposition, there were long periods of deadlock. The same applied in the context of the ‘battle for the leadership of Europe’ between Britain and France. Previous Anglo-French conflicts had proven that the outcome was often decided by the intervention of outside forces. This lesson was clearly in the minds of British and French leaders after 1945. The need for allies, and the impossibility of achieving success in Europe in isolation, led both of them to look to enlist the other Europeans and, in the British case, to mobilise the support of the United States. In the 1960s, the British placed great hopes on the so-called ‘Friendly Five,’ those EEC members other than France, who, it was hoped, would rally to their cause. The battle was also taken to the European Commission where the British and French competed to achieve maximum influence in order to defend and promote

26  Fighting over Europe their national interests. The British and French delegations achieved considerable success in this, something that both sides recognised, with a certain regret, in the other. In the struggle to win over allies, the main target was always Germany. From the Schuman Plan in 1950 onwards, this had been France’s priority. The FrancoGerman relationship was not always an easy one, but over the course of the following decades, it was able to survive its periodic crises. British governments, on the other hand, were far less successful in cultivating the Germans. Julian Bullard, the British Ambassador to Bonn (1984–88), recognised the success of France and Germany in achieving this key European relationship. Their joint tactics, he wrote, applying the habitual military terminology, were to plant flags far ahead of their respective front line, towards which the troops then gallantly struggle. Meanwhile, in the ground already occupied, fraternisation continues apace and gaps in Franco-German joint activity are steadily filled in, to the point where others find it difficult even to get a place in the diaries of the two privileged partners. According to Kohl, ‘in any political argument one should bear in mind not only the current battle but the next.’30 Britain’s relative lack of success in creating an equally effective Anglo-French or Anglo-German relationship, or in working with both in a triumvirate, was a decisive factor in Britain’s final defeat in Europe. Franco-German cooperation was seen by leaders in Paris and Bonn as an essential element in the construction of Europe and as the means of achieving their European goals. German support for France’s bid for the leadership of Europe was rightly seen as decisive. For the Germans, working alongside France in Europe allowed them to reinforce their position in the Western bloc and promote their programme for the development of the European institutions, giving them influence without assuming an overtly leading role that neither they nor their partners were ready to envisage. The economic benefits of their political entente were considerable for both sides, for France in reaching a deal on agriculture and for the Germans in free trade in industrial goods. This did not, however, entirely overcome the tensions and differences between them. French unease about the potential strength of Germany never disappeared and the Gaullist hope that West Germany might be weaned off its dependence on the United States and accept a closer collaboration with France in the defence field was never achieved. Despite these strains, their relationship proved to be sufficiently robust to allow their partnership to provide the long-term bedrock for European construction. Their mutual dependency, where ‘Germany needed France to disguise its strength and France needed Germany to disguise its weakness,’31 tied them into a close relationship that Britain could not compete with.

Fighting over Europe 27 Notes 1 Vaïsse, Grandeur, 24. 2 Tournoux, La Tragédie, 326. 3 Quoted in Tombs, Sweet Enemy, 663. 4 Young, Blessed Plot, 312. 5 Broad, European Dilemmas, 79. 6 Thatcher speech at the Hague, 15 May 1992. 7 FO 371/173341, 28 January 1963; FCO 30/418, 26 March 1969. 8 Renwick, Journey, 99. 9 Reynolds, Island Stories, 104. 10 Peter Ammon, The Guardian, 29 January 2018. 11 Kitzinger, Diplomacy, 35. 12 Speech at Bruges, 20 September 1988. 13 Hurd, Memoirs, 434. 14 Kitzinger, Challenge, 121. 15 Macmillan speaking in Michael Cockerell’s 2003 BBC documentary, ‘Affairs with the French.’ 16 Henderson, Channels, 72. 17 FO 1116/51, 30 July 1969. 18 Heath, Course, 355. 19 Sergeant, Maggie, 28. 20 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 154, 347. 21 Macmillan, End of the Day, 339. 22 New Statesman, 9 June 2016. 23 Speech to the Labour Party Conference, 3 October 1962. 24 Donoughue, Kitchen, 179. 25 Simms, Britain’s Europe, 170 and 181. 26 Forster, Euroscepticism, 14. 27 Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 283. 28 Kitzinger, Challenge, 121. 29 Renwick, Journey, 1–2. 30 Quoted in Wall, Stranger, 76–77. 31 Paterson, “Reluctant Hegemon?” 5.

References Broad, Roger. Labour’s European Dilemmas. From Bevin to Blair. London: Palgrave, 2001. Donoughue, Bernard. The Heat of the Kitchen. An Autobiography. London: Politico’s, 2004. Forster, Anthony. Euroscepticism in Contemporary British Politics. Opposition to Europe in the British Conservative and Labour Parties Since 1945. London: Routledge, 2002. Hannay, David. Britain’s Quest for a Role. A Diplomatic Memoir From Europe to the UN. London: I. B. Tauris, 2013. Heath, Edward. The Course of My Life. My Autobiography. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1998. Henderson, Nicholas. Channels and Tunnels. Reflections on Britain and Abroad. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1987.

28  Fighting over Europe Hurd, Douglas. Memoirs. London: Little, Brown, 2003. Kitzinger, Uwe. The Challenge of the Common Market. Oxford: Blackwell, 1962. Kitzinger, Uwe. Diplomacy and Persuasion: How Britain Joined the Common Market. London: Thames and Hudson, 1973. Macmillan, Harold. At the End of the Day. 1961–1963. London: Macmillan, 1973. Paterson, William, E. “The Reluctant Hegemon? Germany Moves Centre Stage in the European Union.” Journal of Common Market Studies, 49 (2011): 57–75. Peyrefitte, Alain. C’était de Gaulle. Tome 1: “La France redevient la France”. Paris: Fayard, 1994. Renwick, Robin. A Journey With Margaret Thatcher. Foreign Policy Under the Iron Lady. London: Biteback, 2013. Reynolds, David. Island Stories. Britain and Its History in the Age of Brexit. London: William Collins, 2019. Sergeant, John. Maggie. Her Fatal Legacy. London: Macmillan, 2005. Simms, Brendan. Britain’s Europe. A Thousand Years of Conflict and Cooperation. London: Allen Lane, 2016. Tombs, Robert, and Tombs, Isabelle. That Sweet Enemy. The French and the British From the Sun King to the Present. London: Heinemann, 2006. Tournoux, Raymond. La tragédie du Général. Paris: Plon, 1967. Vaïsse, Maurice. La grandeur. La politique étrangère du général de Gaulle 1958–1969. Paris: Fayard, 1998. Wall, Stephen. A Stranger in Europe. Britain and the EU From Thatcher to Blair. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008. Young, Hugo. This Blessed Plot. Britain and Europe From Churchill to Blair. London: Macmillan, 1998.

3

Defining and directing Europe

Both Britain and France tried to set themselves up as leaders of Europe and were more than prepared to fight hard for this. Their battles were usually, although not exclusively, fought against each other. However, what exactly they were fighting over and attempting to lead was not always clearly defined. Questions remained over how wide and how deep Europe should go, in which direction it should be led, how quickly and how far it should advance on its chosen path, and over who was to set the course it was to take. For de Gaulle, there were ‘many among the Gauls, the Germans and the Latins shouting “let’s make Europe!” But what Europe? That is the question.’1 It did not go unremarked that the British were absent from this list. In the same way, most later accounts of European integration placed few British leaders among the founding ‘fathers of Europe.’ The British names that stand out are more usually found on the Eurosceptic side of the debate. Where French leaders were often happy to be labelled as pro-Europeans, many of their British counterparts deliberately cultivated the opposite image. Drawing such a simple dividing line between the ‘good’ and the ‘bad,’ the anti-Europeans and the pro-Europeans was easily done but was not always helpful. What sort of Europe was being proposed and promoted, or opposed and resisted, was more relevant. Various options were on offer, usually with Britain and France taking up opposing positions. As Hubert Vedrine, French Foreign Minister from 1997 to 2002, recognised, there was a ‘conceptual difference between Britain and France . . . at the heart of the . . . European dilemma about what Europe should be and do in the world.’2 Edward Heath similarly wrote in his memoirs of a ‘vast conceptual gap’3 between the British views of Europe and those of the continental Europeans. The debate in Britain around all these questions remained superficial. A truly nationwide discussion of what Europe meant, what it did and where it was going was, for the most part, avoided. When the debate was engaged it was often in the most dramatic and passionate fashion. Serious considerations of the issues at stake frequently gave way to ill-informed disputes, the fundamental questions reduced to bite-sized, and ultimately meaningless, slogans. The technical, even byzantine, nature of some of the issues, the large number of institutions DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-3

30  Defining and directing Europe that spoke in the name of Europe and the abundance of acronyms that accompanied them, from the OEEC, ECSC, EEC, ERM, EMS to the EU along with a multitude of others that came and went throughout the post-war decades, served to further cloud the real issues. Many people were bewildered by the doctrinal discussions of the advantages and disadvantages of councils and custom unions, single or common markets, supranationalism and subsidiarity, federations and confederations, communities or unions. Putting these complicated questions in simple sound-bite forms, such as ‘keep Britain out’ or ‘I want my money back,’ allowed leader writers and political campaigners to present their case more effectively but could also be misleading. In the same way, reducing the multifaceted European institutions and structures, and the complex relations Britain had with them, to a simple choice of in or out, remain or leave, did not provide an adequate basis for decision-making. The more pertinent, but also more difficult, question was instead what sort of Europe did Britain, and France, want and what sort of relationship did they want to have with it. ‘Europe’ and ‘European integration’ were frequently presented in deceptively simple terms. They were, in fact, very much contested and open to very different interpretations. Nor was Europe standing still. Developments after 1945 were rapid, although in fits and starts, and profound. Geoffrey Howe saw Europe as a ‘remorselessly moving carpet’ and Delors as an ‘unidentified political object.’4 The path along which it progressed was never a straight one. Nor was this path clear from the outset. At several junctures along the way, different directions could have been taken. The story of Europe was not predestined. Different models and alternatives were on offer; choosing between them frequently pitted the British and French against each other. Continental and maritime perspectives There was a long list of diplomatic clashes around the world between Britain and France, but it was Europe which was the decisive battleground on which they fought out their differences. From the outset, there were disagreements and conflicting interpretations as to the exact meaning of Europe. If it was taken as a purely geographical term, where did it begin and end? If it was a political concept, then which one? If there was to be a European union, what form should this take and, once created, what should its relations be to the world beyond? The British concept of Europe was a minimalist one that reduced it to a simple free market area devoid of any substantial integration in the political, monetary or social fields, where the small state advocated by economic liberals would be reflected in a small Europe. Europe, in this British model, should be ‘small’ in terms of its areas of competence but not in terms of its geographical scope: in short, a Europe that could be widened but not deepened. In numerous ways, the different British and French political cultures meant that their notions of Europe

Defining and directing Europe  31 and European integration rarely matched. Their different histories and traditions accentuated the gulf between them. In its simplest form, the question ‘what is Europe’ could be asked in geographical terms. How far do its borders extend and, above all, should Britain be considered part of it? Long before Brexit, there were already numerous interpretations of Europe that excluded Britain. For many people in France, Europe should be equated with the Continent. One of de Gaulle’s advisors, for example, argued that ‘for the French, Europe is delineated by its natural borders. History gives it no other limits than those of geography. Europe is continental.’5 De Gaulle himself attached the same importance to both history and geography. His idea of creating a Europe ‘from the Atlantic to the Urals’ was often highlighted yet he and several of his successors were often reluctant to go beyond the six original members of the EEC. The same dividing line between the core and periphery of Europe was used in later years to distinguish, and also to establish a hierarchy between, the six founding members of the EEC and the more recent entrants. De Gaulle, Giscard and others in France frequently talked of recreating the Europe of Charlemagne, the Holy Roman Empire or the Europe of Napoleon as an essentially continental construction formed around a Franco-German axis. De Gaulle and others could, at times, go so far as to question the truly continental, and therefore European, status of the Scandinavians, the Netherlands or even Italy. It was, however, Britain’s essentially maritime nature that was of greatest concern. For de Gaulle and his followers, Britain’s island status seriously undermined its claim to be European. In order to enter the EEC, to join Europe, they argued that Britain would have to ‘become European.’ Heath’s reply to this was that Britain was already European and that the EEC was no more than a part of Europe. For Joseph Luns and Paul-Henri Spaak, the heads of the Dutch and Belgian delegations during the EEC negotiations in 1961–63 and supporters of British entry, Europe without Britain was not really Europe. These views, however, were far from being universally held either in Britain or on the Continent where Europe, the EEC, and later on the EU were widely taken as being synonymous. If Britain was looking to enter the EEC/Europe, then it was doing so from outside, from a non-European starting point. When de Gaulle pronounced his veto on British entry in January 1963, halting Britain’s European policy in its tracks, the arguments he put forward to explain his decision were of the most fundamental nature: Britain was an island, its interests and essential character diverged from those of the continental Europeans. As Maurice Couve de Murville, de Gaulle’s Foreign Minister (1958–68) put it, Britain was simply ‘not a European country like the others.’6 The geographical fact of Britain’s island position could not be denied but it hardly constituted a justifiable argument presented at the end of eighteen months of negotiations. De Gaulle was nonetheless successful in constructing, or reinforcing, the image of Britain as non-European and in winning over most of his compatriots to this view. His account of events became the

32  Defining and directing Europe received wisdom in France. Many on the British side of the Channel agreed with his analysis and were quite content with their semi-detached European location. The existential question ‘[I]s Britain European?’ was at the heart of the debate that dominated much of British politics after 1945. Should its geographical situation, its history and traditions, and the widespread feelings of difference from the other Europeans be seen as setting it apart? During the Brexit debate, it was argued by some in both Britain and France that de Gaulle had been right all along, that the British were essentially different from the other Europeans and that they could never come to terms with a truly European identity. The phrase ‘you/we British aren’t European’ was frequently heard over the years on both sides of the Channel. Such arguments were convincing only if the Gaullist idea of Europe was accepted, but his definition was far from being the only one available. De Gaulle argued that he closed the door to Britain because it was insufficiently European. This raised the question of what he meant exactly by Europe and European. Even Margaret Thatcher refused to accept the argument that Britain was not European. Her Bruges speech in 1988 came to be seen as a seminal moment for the Eurosceptic movement yet in it she highlighted Britain’s fundamentally European identity through its language, culture and its varied relations with, and position in (and not alongside or outside), Europe. ‘We British,’ she said, ‘are as much heirs to the legacy of European culture as any other nation. Our links to the rest of Europe, the continent of Europe, have been the dominant factor in our history,’ part of a ‘record of nearly two thousand years of British involvement in Europe, cooperation with Europe and contribution to Europe.’7 Distractions and attractions beyond Europe The arguments that Britain was not genuinely European and that it could not therefore seriously lay claim to its leadership were backed up by references to its particularly strong links outside Europe, notably with the United States and the Commonwealth. That Britain was not alone in wanting to balance its role in Europe and elsewhere was often ignored by its French critics. Like Britain, France too wanted to participate in the emerging Europe project without giving up its connections with its ex-colonies. The extent of Britain’s extra-European relations, most significantly in the immediate post-war years, however, inevitably lessened its engagement with Europe at a time when decisive steps were being taken in the creation of new European bodies, ones that the continental Europeans were designing in their own interests and not in those of Britain. Britain’s attention was split between Churchill’s three circles, with Europe sometimes taking third place behind the ‘special relationship’ and the Commonwealth. Throughout the history of Britain’s relations with Europe from 1945 to Brexit, Britain attempted to hold onto a role in each of the three circles, balancing policies between them, refusing that they should ever have to make a decisive choice in favour of one over the others. In the 1950s and 1960s, Macmillan and Wilson

Defining and directing Europe  33 attempted to convince the other Europeans, starting with the French, that Britain’s attachment to the Commonwealth should not be considered an obstacle to it playing a leading role in Europe. Some in Britain took the idea of combining these roles one step further by arguing that they were not only compatible but also mutually reinforcing. Against this, there were always others in Britain who regarded European connections as a distraction and as a dangerous weakening of Britain’s more important ties with the Commonwealth and the United States. The strategic case for remaining close to the Americans and the commercial one in favour of the Commonwealth could never have been easily abandoned, although British leaders continued to cling to the belief in Britain’s world role long after it had ceased to be sustainable. The temptation to assume, or regain, this global status re-emerged at various times without it ever becoming a realistic option. Sentimental attachment to the Commonwealth also remained strong. The Commonwealth’s contribution during the world wars was not forgotten. The result was that Britain was trying to run after two, possibly three, hares at the same time. This eventually proved beyond its capacity. Looked at from the Continent, many observers saw this as proof that, for the British, the Channel was wider than the Atlantic. French opinion never forgot Churchill’s angry statement to de Gaulle that Britain would always choose the Open Seas over the Continent. This famous scene was so often repeated in later accounts that it became the orthodox French explanation of Britain’s outlook on the world. Pragmatists and idealists There was unease in Britain about philosophising and intellectualising political debates, especially on the question of Europe. Debates around federalism, supranationalism, of a European spirit or civilisation, were alien to most people. Instead, the European debate was conducted in rudimentary terms of food prices or ‘taking back control.’ As these two examples indicate, the focus was very much on the negative elements. There were barely any references to Europe as a positive force, as a benefit or as an ideal to be embraced. The reputation of the British suggests that they are more pragmatic than their continental neighbours, especially the French. This trait was identified by Jean Monnet when he said: There is one thing you British will never understand: an idea. And there is one thing you are supremely good at grasping: a hard fact. We will have to make Europe without you – but then you will have to come in and join us.8 When Monnet asked Gaitskell in April 1962 to ‘have faith’ in his European project, the response was: ‘I don’t believe in faith. I believe in reason and you have not shown me any.’9 French leaders were certainly not averse to presenting the European question in lofty and ambitious terms. Some of their pro-European rhetoric was no more than a veneer on top of French national interests but it

34  Defining and directing Europe did allow the European debate to be conducted in more positive terms than was the case in Britain. It also helped to win support for French positions in other countries where support for European integration was more genuine. British leaders such as James Callaghan and Margaret Thatcher, on the other hand, regarded the whole idea of a European union as ‘cloudy mysticism’ or as ‘misty Europeanism.’10 As in so many other areas, the British and French diverged in their definitions of Europe and how it should be approached. On the British side, the preference was for an evolutionary and evolutive method while the French often focused on the constitutional dimension. Thatcher complained that ‘ “Europe” is the result of plans. It is,’ she said, ‘a classic utopian project, a monument to the vanity of intellectuals.’11 In this, she was, in her more abrasive fashion, thinking along the same lines as most British leaders over the previous fifty years. Clement Attlee ruled out participation in talks on the Schuman plan by arguing that his Government could not accept being ‘bound . . . to certain principles without knowing how they would work out in practice.’12 His Foreign Secretary, Ernest Bevin, made the same point more pithily: ‘Once you open that Pandora’s box,’ he warned, ‘you never know what Trojan Horses will fly out.’13 To Bevin and Attlee, the French project appeared to be based on abstract and unrealistic thinking. Later generations of British leaders adopted an equally sceptical outlook on the European plans emerging from the Continent. Geoffrey Howe questioned the Europeans’ need to continually move integration forward through ‘fear that if ever they came to a halt they might risk falling over.’ This ‘impulse,’ he wrote, tends to prompt the production of endless documentary symbols of progress – of charters, of Acts, of draft treaties and the like. Britons have little time for such things. . . . We like to leave it to others to be enthused by solemn texts of that kind.14 The presentation of the European project in such theoretical and legalistic terms reinforced the reluctance of most British people to be part of it. Fear of the unknown and a desire to preserve the existing national and international order held them back. The British dislike of structured, written constitutions and their unwillingness to embark on grand projects or engage in philosophical debates undoubtedly set them apart from the French. Rival European models Britain and France were no closer when it came to the social and economic models that they planned for Europe, although there was, occasionally, a degree of common ground between them on the question of the European political structures that needed to be put in place. The British preference was for the widest possible free-trade area across Europe. They were firmly opposed to any

Defining and directing Europe  35 common external tariff that would in any way obstruct Europe’s, and Britain’s, trade with the rest of the world. This clashed with the more federal projects being promoted by many on the Continent. Whereas the former was seen essentially, possibly exclusively, as an economic and commercial enterprise, the latter included important political objectives for a European union and the creation of new supranational structures. These differences in outlook were presented as a clash between an economically liberal and free-trade Britain and a protectionist and dirigiste France. At one point, this was abbreviated as a combat between the Organisation for European Economic Community (OEEC), backed by the British, and the European Economic Community (EEC) backed by the French or, in a more picturesque style, as one between a ‘jardin à la française,’ with its ‘rationally laid our perspectives,’ an ‘English park,’ or a ‘jungle.’15 A parallel was drawn between the geographical separation of the English Channel and an equivalent ideological dividing line with, on one side, liberal, free-trade Britain, and on the other continental Europe with its ‘tradition of cartels and corporatism.’16 There were many reasons to question this overly simplistic analysis. It nonetheless reflected how many observers saw the various European economic organisations that were being built up after the War as an ideological battleground on which Britain and France came face to face. The belief in a liberal economic order as the necessary underpinning of international peace and prosperity was at the heart of British thinking. During and immediately after the War, both Conservative and Labour Ministers accepted that the countries of Europe would have to work together to bring down tariff barriers if they were not to return to the dark days of the 1930s. However, from the British point of view, the international trading system should be global and not European and it was towards such institutions as the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade and the International Monetary Fund that they turned their attention. In Europe, Britain focused on the OEEC, established in 1948 to administer Marshall aid and with a strong trans-Atlantic emphasis. This was considered an ‘outstanding success’ in London for the way it contributed to expanding trade.17 The British preference for the OEEC and the way in which it reinforced Britain’s diplomatic position in Europe were summed up in 1960 by the recently retired British Ambassador to Paris, Gladwyn Jebb. The OEEC, he said, suited us extremely well since . . . the UK from the start took a leading part in the affair and used it as a vehicle for . . . the formation of a liberal and . . . ‘outward-looking’ regional association of democratic nations. . . . The OEEC lasted effectively for about ten years. Some continentals regard this as the period of British-European hegemony.18 The somewhat simplistic view of an economically liberal Britain facing up to an inherently protectionist France in an ideological battle over the future of Europe needs to be nuanced. From the 1960s onwards, France began to accept the tenets

36  Defining and directing Europe of the liberal economic order and overcame much of its reluctance towards European free trade when it agreed to the conditions of entry into the common market and customs union in 1958 (free trade within the EEC was partially compensated by the creation of a common external tariff against imports from outside the Six). French business came to terms with the forces of globalisation. Equally, there were some significant protectionist voices in certain industrial and farming sectors in Britain. The British, despite their own sometimes rather poor free-trade credentials, constantly criticised the protectionist inclinations of the ECSC and EEC, an approach that they saw as being initiated by the French. Protests were made against their common external tariff and the barriers they were erecting to wider European and world trade. Comparisons were drawn with Napoleon’s Continental Blockade. Countermeasures were threatened although never actually applied. London’s strongest condemnation was reserved for the EEC’s Common Agricultural Policy (CAP) which the British accused of introducing a form of European autarchy. It was precisely these two dimensions, the common external tariff and the CAP, that, from the French perspective, gave the EEC its meaning. Georges Pompidou argued that ‘the common external tariff must serve as the means to give the EEC its economic unity and to make it real.’19 It was these issues of the common external tariff, the CAP and the budgetary arrangements that both these policies involved, which continued to divide the British and French throughout the following years. They were the subject of repeated clashes at numerous European summits. Agricultural battlefields Agriculture, and in particular the CAP, was the main battlefield on which Britain and France fought out a variety of intense, long-lasting, and profound disagreements. It also played a major role in the history of the EEC/EU. For the first President of the EEC Commission, Walter Hallstein, the Agricultural Council became ‘one of the decisive theatres of war in the struggle for a political union.’20 Throughout the post-war decades, it was a key marker of the opposing Anglo-French outlooks on Europe. In Britain, the CAP was condemned as environmentally damaging, economically inefficient, detrimental to the developing world and a costly waste of money that would have been better either left in the British Treasury or spent on other more deserving European causes. Such arguments were very rarely, if ever, heard in France. For British critics of the EEC/EU, the CAP epitomised everything that was wrong with Europe. It was attacked as ‘the most extreme form of protectionism ever invented’ and as ‘total lunacy.’21 The image of farmers on the Continent being propped up by massive subsidies, funded in large part by British tax-payers, was firmly held by many people in Britain. Continental ‘peasants’ driving BMWs financed by Britain or burning lorries of British lambs at the Channel ports were favourite targets of

Defining and directing Europe  37 British Eurosceptics. The corresponding French accounts ignored most, if not all, of these arguments. Instead, they presented the CAP as the one great success of European integration, a symbol of the solidarity that was, or should have been, at the heart of the European project. It was also seen as an expression of their preference for a ‘European Europe’ which produced and consumed its own food. When British critics focused on the cost of maintaining European farmers’ standards of living, the French asked why European farmers should be asked to make sacrifices for their counterparts in the United States or New Zealand whose incomes were significantly higher than their own. These starkly contrasting interpretations never came close to a resolution. Instead, they provided material for some of the most acrimonious rows between the two countries. This agricultural confrontation brought to the surface the divergent British and French conceptions of Europe. It went to the very roots of how the two countries thought not only about Europe but also about their own national identities. The British were used to importing cheap food from around the world and had a relatively small agricultural sector that enjoyed relatively little public sympathy. France, on the other hand, had a very different attitude towards its farmers and the importance of its agriculture, in both economic and social terms. Protecting rural France and its lifestyle, while at the same time promoting a growing agrofood industry looking to widen its foreign markets, made the defence of the CAP an essential part of France’s European policy. Britain and France were poles apart on this issue, sentimentally, politically and economically. The underlying financial aspects of this question were also highlighted, especially in Britain. France, as the largest agricultural producer in Europe, was among the primary beneficiaries of an agricultural support system such as the CAP. Britain, on the other hand, with its historic dependence on imported foodstuffs was always going to be disadvantaged. The consequence was that the agricultural dispute immediately became mixed up with the two no less contentious issues of the budget and Europe’s relations with the rest of the world. An Atlantic or ‘European Europe’ The setting up of new European institutions after 1945 raised the important question of their relationship with the rest of the world and whether Europe and the United States should be seen as rivals or as twin pillars of a common alliance. Should there be a ‘European Europe’ along Gaullist lines or a ‘trans-Atlantic Europe’ as favoured by London? This remained at the heart of the Anglo-French discord in Europe and provoked one of their hardest-fought battles. The British complained that de Gaulle’s aim was to build a ‘fortress Europe’ close to the rest of the world; for de Gaulle, British and American plans would have so far diluted Europe in a wider trans-Atlantic system that it would have lost its true identity. The same divergent views were held by later generations of British and French leaders. These rival concepts of Europe and its place in the world were visible

38  Defining and directing Europe in numerous areas from trade and investment to culture. In the defence field, France sought to build up a European capability alongside, but separate from, the Atlantic Alliance. London, on the other hand, wanted to maintain European armed forces firmly inside that alliance with the United States. For de Gaulle, Britain’s unwillingness to break free from the Americans, especially in terms of its nuclear weapons, was a decisive factor in rejecting Britain’s membership of the EEC. In the following years, British and French defence policies continued to diverge. Defence was, nevertheless, an area where there was always a possibility for the two to work together in Europe. The agreement reached at Saint-Malo in 1998 suggested that together they could constitute the backbone of a new European defence policy although this potential was never fulfilled. When they considered economic, commercial and monetary issues, the British consistently took a global and trans-Atlantic rather than a European perspective. Europe was seen as just one part of the Western Alliance and, therefore, the approach needed to be ‘one-world’ and closely aligned with the United States. France’s focus, on the other hand, was very much on Europe. In broad terms, London and Washington shared the same objectives and were looking at Europe through a similar global, essentially ‘Anglo-Saxon,’ lens. American encouragement of British entry into the EEC was based on the belief that British membership would ensure that it held onto a global view and avoid it becoming a high-tariff and inward-looking club. Britain was expected by one American diplomat to ‘go in there and dominate it on behalf of joint BritishAmerican concerns. . . . Go in there and run it.’22 This was also very much Britain’s hope. Whenever Britain sought to enter a European group, whether it was the OEEC, the aborted FTA plan or the EEC/EU, it always maintained that this should not mean severing links with its partners outside Europe. For Macmillan Britain’s entry into the EEC would ‘strengthen the unity of Western Europe in a way which would spread out all over the whole free World.’ Europe, he said, ‘cannot stand alone. She must co-operate with the rest of the Free World, with the Commonwealth, with the United States in an equal partnership.’ This needed to be ‘outward-looking. We don’t want it to shut itself up inside a fortress.’23 Wilson also wanted to integrate Europe, in all its forms, within a wider global framework. Later British leaders up to and including Tony Blair continued to promote the same idea. These British views contrasted with the French idea of Europe with its own specific identity and policies, aligned with, but truly independent of, the United States. When British leaders from Macmillan to Blair thought in terms of a European-American balance and interdependence, their French counterparts, from de Gaulle to Chirac, argued in favour of independence. Britain, they argued, by placing itself so closely alongside the United States was accepting a position of dependence. This position was unacceptable to the French. They feared that Britain was allowing itself to be used by Washington as its Trojan horse and that American leadership of Europe would be achieved through a British proxy.

Defining and directing Europe  39 Conclusion: different Europeans Remarks about the British being insufficiently communautaire beg the question what community it was that they were failing to respect. They were justifiably seen as awkward and reluctant Europeans, ill at ease in their European skins. But they could also have been considered as another kind of European, aiming to create a Europe along different lines. It was argued in the aftermath of the 2016 referendum that Britain was leaving the EU while not leaving Europe. While this could have been seen as an attempt to paper over the cracks of what was becoming a very messy divorce, there was something in this argument. Europe was not only the EU and being anti-EEC/EU should not necessarily have been taken as proof of an anti-European attitude. In 1975, some leading anti-marketeers, such as Tony Benn, were adamant that their campaign was against the existing European institutions and not against Europe as a whole and refuted the idea that they were in any way anti-European. Even Margaret Thatcher, something of a heroine of the Eurosceptic cause, claimed that she was, in fact, a ‘European idealist,’ although she qualified this by saying that her ‘ideals differed somewhat from those expressed with varying degrees of sincerity by other European heads of government.’24 The same claim was made by de Gaulle who sometimes argued that he was the only true European. Without first defining Europe, labels such as ‘anti’ or ‘pro-European’ are of little use. Successive British and French Governments were fighting over the leadership of Europe but they did not agree on what Europe was or on what it should become. They were simply not speaking the same European language. Notes 1 De Gaulle, Discours et messages, V, 235. 2 Védrine, “Quai d’Orsay,” 240. 3 Heath, Course, 202. 4 Howe, Conflict, 533; Speech in Luxembourg, 9 September 1985. 5 Burin, Retour, 56. 6 Couve, Politique étrangère, 387–88. 7 Speech at Bruges, 20 September 1988. 8 Kitzinger, Challenge, 109. 9 Broad, European Dilemmas, 49. 10 Henderson, Mandarin, 134; Sergeant, Maggie, 35. 11 Thatcher, Statecraft, 359. 12 Quoted in Kitzinger, Second Try, 78–79. 13 Charlton, Price of Victory, 75. 14 Howe, Conflict, 533. 15 Prate, Quelle Europe? 189. 16 Thatcher, Downing Street, 739. 17 CAB 21/3325, 27 November 1959. 18 CAB 21/4414, 7 December 1960. 19 DDF, 1963, tome 2. Doc.6, 5 July 1965. 20 Quoted in Hendriks, “Agricultural Policy,” 142.

40  Defining and directing Europe 21 Jay, “Free Trade Alternative,” 125; Peter Shore quoted in Wall, Reluctant European, 112. 22 Richard Neustadt quoted in George, European Integration, 43. 23 Macmillan, End of the Day, 368–70. 24 Thatcher, Downing Street, 536–37.

References Broad, Roger. Labour’s European Dilemmas. From Bevin to Blair. London: Palgrave, 2001. Burin des Roziers, Etienne. Retour aux sources, 1962. L’année décisive. Paris: Plon, 1985. Charlton, Michael. The Price of Victory. London: BBC, 1983. Couve de Murville, Maurice. Une politique étrangère 1958–1969. Paris: Plon, 1971. De Gaulle, Charles. Discours et messages. Tome 5. Vers le terme (janvier 1966-avril 1969). Paris: Plon, 1970. George, Stephen. Britain and European Integration Since 1945. London: Blackwell, 1991. Heath, Edward. The Course of My Life. My Autobiography. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1998. Henderson, Nicholas. Mandarin. The Diaries of an Ambassador, 1969–1982. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1995. Hendriks, Gisela. “The Creation of the Common Agricultural Policy.” In Acceleration, Deepening and Enlarging: The European Economic Community, 1957–1963, edited by Anne Deighton and Alan Milward, 139–50. Brussels: Bruylant, 1999. Howe, Geoffrey. Conflict of Loyalty. London: Macmillan, 1995. Jay, Douglas. “A Free Trade Alternative to the EEC: A Witness Account.” In From Reconstruction to Integration: Britain and Europe Since 1945, edited by Brian Brivati and Harriet Jones, 123–33. Leicester: Leicester University Press, 1993. Kitzinger, Uwe. The Challenge of the Common Market. Oxford: Blackwell, 1962. Kitzinger, Uwe. The Second Try. Labour and the EEC. Oxford: Pergamon Press, 1968. Macmillan, Harold. At the End of the Day. 1961–1963. London: Macmillan, 1973. Prate, Alain. Quelle Europe? Paris: Julliard, 1991. Sergeant, John. Maggie. Her Fatal Legacy. London: Macmillan, 2005. Thatcher, Margaret. The Downing Street Years. London: Harper Collins, 1993. Thatcher, Margaret. Statecraft. Strategies for a Changing World. London: Harper Collins, 2002. Vedrine, Hubert. “A View From the Quai d’Orsay.” In Cross-Channel Currents. 100 Years of the Entente Cordiale, edited by Richard Mayne, Douglas Johnson, and Robert Tombs, 232–40. London: Routledge, 2004. Wall, Stephen. Reluctant European. Britain and the European Union From 1945 to Brexit. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2020.

4 Initial skirmishes

Britain and France faced the post-war world in difficult circumstances and with a good deal of uncertainty. Both were determined to hold onto what could be salvaged from their roles as great powers even if they realised that they had been relegated to a secondary status behind the new superpowers of the Soviet Union and the United States. Both faced a growing tide of anti-colonialism throughout their empires. In Europe, the new Soviet challenge superseded the previous German danger and placed both of them firmly in the same Cold War camp. Both countries accepted that this new geopolitical context required some form of European unity in the economic, military and political fields but they failed to agree on what form this unity should take. While Britain and France faced similar problems and shared much the same concerns about their futures in the world, they did so from significantly different positions. In particular, the legacies of the War had a significant impact in both the short and long terms. Britain emerged from the War with considerable prestige; its political system had withstood the challenges and proven its strength and stability. The comparison with its continental neighbours, and with France, was striking. The Continent had been shattered materially, politically and economically. By contrast, Britain, although it had suffered considerably, appeared to be in a far stronger position. The contrast between Britain and the other Europeans in the immediate aftermath of the War was perhaps most evident psychologically. Britain seemed to occupy a distinct position in Europe as a model of democracy, political and social stability and economic strength. Its own sense of pre-eminence in Europe was clearly felt and was also recognised on the Continent where there were many people, especially in the Benelux countries and in Scandinavia, who looked to Britain to take on a more active role in European affairs. Having valiantly resisted in 1940, and then fought to liberate Europe in 1944–45, many people hoped that, rather than returning to its traditional distanced approach to Europe, Britain would assume a leading role. Fears of a resurgence of German militarism and of the Soviet threat were acutely felt. Britain offered an important means of moderating such fears. The need to

DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-4

42  Initial skirmishes collaborate economically and to encourage trade among the European nations pointed in the same direction. Looking to British leadership Paul-Henri Spaak, a central player in European integration in the post-war years and an ardent Anglophile, was among many Europeans exiled in London during the War who looked to Britain for leadership. Writing in 1941, he argued that the ‘countries of Europe will be ready as soon as the war ends to become very closely united under the leadership of a victorious England.’ This would require certain conditions to be met: ‘First, that England remains very powerful. Second, that England takes an effective interest in Europe.’ Britain, he said, would have to reverse its previous policies towards the Continent, abandon its past hesitations and assume the leadership of Europe that both Britain and the others required. There could be no question of simply ‘attempting to maintain a European equilibrium, preventing any supremacy on the Continent.’ He added a final, and premonitory, warning: If England is not clearly conscious of her duty towards Europe, if she does not pursue the policy which really devolves on her, and makes her the leader, she cannot but accept rapid frustration. Europe will organise itself without her and, I may venture to say, against her. And it will be Germany, even beaten, which will be the leader.1 Across the Continent, others took a similar line, including many in France and Germany. Konrad Adenauer, the dominant figure in post-war West Germany and a later adversary of the British, accepted that France was too weak to lead and that Britain’s participation in Europe was indispensable. At the same time, he wondered why the British were so reluctant to assume this role when it was so obviously in their national interest to do so. When Bevin spoke in 1948 of creating a Western Union, Spaak believed that his wish was ‘on its way to realisation. Europe was going to organise itself under the leadership of Great Britain.’2 Duff Cooper, the British Ambassador in Paris (1944–48), responded positively to these calls and, like Spaak, he highlighted the dangers of not taking up this opportunity. Hesitating over Europe, as Britain had done in the inter-war years, he warned, would force the other Europeans to look elsewhere for leadership. He was confident that they ‘would prefer an alliance with Great Britain and France . . . rather than with France alone’ but any prevarication on Britain’s part would only ‘drive those who would be our friends into the arms of others and leave us in a position of dangerous isolation.’3 As Spaak had made clear, the first question being asked was whether Britain wished to take up the leadership role that many in Europe were calling for. Second, if Britain did accept this, what sort of Europe could they offer? The answers given to these fundamental

Initial skirmishes  43 questions established the main lines of British policies towards Europe for the following decades. It was acknowledged in London that the perilous state of the European economies and the Soviet threat called for some form of European cooperation. The British Government accepted that it could not stand apart from this, placing itself on the European side-lines while sending its best wishes to the endeavours of its continental neighbours. At the same time, the belief that Britain should hold onto its position as a world power was never questioned. As a consequence, Britain’s attention was drawn away from Europe towards wider horizons. Nonetheless, it was also recognised that Britain remained tied to Europe in numerous ways and that it could not turn its back on the Continent. The experiences of the two world wars had clearly shown that Britain’s primary strategic interests were in Europe. Moreover, if Britain was to retain its global role alongside, if a little below, the two superpowers, then leadership of Europe seemed to be a pre-requisite. Combining some form of leadership in Europe with leadership of the Commonwealth was seen as a means of maintaining Britain’s position in the world and avoiding becoming subservient to Washington. Post-war British thinking about Europe started out from several basic assumptions. First, Britain needed to be part of any future European grouping; second, Britain retained a global outlook and role that set it apart from the other Europeans; third, the Europeans themselves were in no fit state to bring about the effective collaborative measures that were required. The conclusion was that Britain, therefore, had to take on this responsibility. The final assumption was that, while British involvement in Europe was required, and that its own leadership was preferable to that of any of its potential rivals, this should not go so far as to compromise its role outside Europe. Underlying all of these, there was a firm belief in Britain’s superiority that led successive British Governments to dangerously underestimate the rest of Europe. For several years after the end of the War, it was still arrogantly assumed in London that, if Britain didn’t take the lead in Europe, no other country had either the authority or the capacity to do so. Britain’s condescending views of the other Europeans were particularly evident with regard to France. Its recent misfortunes, its political instability, the strength of its Communist Party, its economic and financial frailty, and its moral and spiritual decline were repeatedly highlighted in British reports. These were sent with a mixture of regret, pity and disdain. In turn, they reinforced the lack of faith in France as an ally or as a future partner. There were many in France itself who shared these estimates of their country’s situation and its future prospects. Engagement with the rest of Europe was an unavoidable, if not always welcome, reality for Britain and it was undertaken with little enthusiasm. Europe continued to be seen as a source of trouble more than of hope for the future. Little Englander and anti-foreigner sentiments were widespread at all levels of British society and numerous mental barriers remained in place across the Channel. Europe could not be ignored but it aroused little interest or sympathy among

44  Initial skirmishes the British public. More favourable attention was paid to Britain’s other international connections with the Commonwealth and the United States. It was these that the Foreign Office and Treasury saw as the keys to maintaining Britain’s position in the world and its economic strength. There was a cross-party consensus on this. In economic policy, Britain adopted a ‘one-world’ rather than a primarily European approach. While the British focused their attention on working alongside the Americans to resolve their financial, economic, commercial and strategic problems, their lack of faith in the other Europeans, in all these areas, was obvious. The head of the British delegation to the OEEC expressed this very clearly when he warned Ministers in London: ‘Do not put all your eggs in the European basket. It is a pretty shoddy contraption and there are no signs that the essential repairs are going to be made.’4 British views of post-war France were much the same. However, whatever doubts the British might have had about France’s capacity to redress its situation, it remained an unavoidable element in British policies towards Europe. So long as the commitment of the United States to Europe was uncertain, and the other Europeans too weak to take on a leading role, Anglo-French cooperation was a necessity and it was around an Anglo-French core that the first considerations were given to European integration. Bevin’s plan for a Western Union looked to combine the strengths of Britain, France and the other Western Europeans, together with their colonial empires. Similar thinking lay behind the 1947 Treaty of Dunkirk between Britain and France and the Brussels Pact the following year which extended this to the Benelux countries. These plans soon gave way to a quite different approach as it became obvious that the idea of creating a Euro-Africa bloc was beyond the capacity of either the British or the French. Global perspectives on Europe By the end of 1949, as the Cold War intensified, Bevin and the Labour Government had significantly changed course. The priority was no longer a limited partnership with the other Europeans but to integrate this into a wider transAtlantic group, above all, one that committed the United States to the defence of Europe. NATO, signed in 1949, was the successful culmination of this British policy. By then the British had concluded that Europe alone would be unable to provide security, either for itself or for Britain, and that only the United States had the capacity to do this. The relative lack of confidence in the Europeans, starting with the French, and the trust placed in the Americans as European saviours, owed a great deal to the experiences of the War and the lessons that the British had drawn from it. Britain, Bevin told the Americans, ‘was not part of Europe; she was not simply a Luxembourg.’ The British people, he said, ‘were pinning their faith on a policy of defence built on a Commonwealth-USA basis – an English-speaking basis.’ His description of British attitudes displayed the enormous distance that still separated Britain from the Continent. The British, he

Initial skirmishes 45 said, ‘were frankly doubtful of Europe.’ ‘How,’ he asked, ‘could he go down to his constituency – Woolwich – which had been bombed by the Germans in the war, and tell his constituents that the Germans would help them in a war against Russia?’ As for the French, the British, he said, were ‘almost invariably struck by (their) defeatist attitude.’5 The French, on their side, were disappointed at how easily the British had given up on the idea of creating, with France, a ‘Third Force’ in Europe. These policy shifts explain much of the French mistrust of the British in the following years. British foreign policy after 1945 was conducted very much from a globalist perspective with Europe seen as only one part of the wider picture. The first strategic priority was to counter the Soviet threat which, it was concluded, required the closest ties with the United States. Economic recovery was seen through the same global lens. The signature of the GATT in October 1947 was welcomed by the British as the type of structure best suited to its liberal economic outlook. Efforts to promote the recovery of European trade were welcomed as were European organisations that worked to that end. But these were only considered so long as they remained intergovernmental in nature, working within the GATT in a complementary manner. Likewise, in the defence field, harmonising the efforts of the United States and the Europeans was seen as vital. All these would involve accepting a large degree of American leadership, and a corresponding loss of independence for all the Europeans. In London, the general view was that this was a necessary price to be paid in order to ensure American assistance. The focus on tying the Americans into the defence of Western Europe and the continued attachment to the Commonwealth did not mean giving up Britain’s ambition to place itself in the leading position in Europe. This was to be achieved without abandoning either the commercial advantages that Britain drew from the Commonwealth or the strategic gains of the recently created ‘special relationship’ with the United States. Bevin was confident that Britain could reconcile its roles in and beyond Europe but he was adamant that Britain would not accept any commitment to Europe that restricted its role elsewhere. The British belief that they could be part of a European union in some form while at the same time holding on to their links with the Commonwealth was backed up by the conviction that the two roles were complementary, that they were, in fact, mutually reinforcing. This was also the view expressed by Churchill, then leader of the opposition, in his ‘three circles’ speech which placed Britain in a unique position at the intersection of the Commonwealth, the English-speaking world with the Americans, and Europe. If this edifice was to stand up it was essential that Britain should never have to choose between any of the three circles. The hope was that Britain would be able to balance these various roles, using each of them as a prop in the other two. In this way, leadership of Western Europe was seen as an essential part of Britain’s plans to build up an international position that would allow it to be treated as an equal by the two superpowers.

46  Initial skirmishes The immediate post-war years offered fewer possibilities for France. The primary international concern in Paris was how to resolve the problem of Germany. It was clear that, although Germany had been defeated and was under allied occupation, it was still potentially the dominant European power. The initial French reaction was to seek an agreement with the British and Americans to control Germany’s industrial resources. This would have meant returning to the policies imposed on Germany after its defeat in 1918, something which Britain and the United States believed risked the revival of a vengeful Germany. Any attempt to keep the German economy artificially weak, they argued, would be counterproductive and dangerous. Their main thoughts were now turned towards the threat of a war with the Soviet Union. In this new scenario, West Germany quickly came to be seen more as a future ally than as a previous enemy. France, understandably given its recent occupation, was slower to come around to this conclusion. French hopes that they might be able to create a permanently weakened Germany, broken up into provinces, and accepting a subservient European role, were unlikely to provide a convincing solution to France’s problem with its powerful neighbour. Instead, it was through a radically new and collaborative approach based on reconciliation between the two old enemies that France sought to answer these questions in 1950. Rival plans for the future of Europe In the immediate post-war period, the idea of some form of joint Franco-British leadership of Europe received considerable backing. London and Paris each had good reasons to consider this option. Both wanted to prevent any revival of the German threat to their security; both faced problems in their colonial empires and both were attempting to hold onto a major role in a world where the two superpowers risked pushing them, and the whole of Europe, into the background. However, the idea of a renewed Anglo-French entente in Europe soon fell by the wayside as it came up against deep-seated mutual suspicions. Neither country was able to translate the recognition of their shared long-term interests into meaningful collaboration. Beyond the undoubted difficulties in the personal relations between British and French leaders, there were also already important differences in how the two sides envisaged the future European institutions. One of the priorities of the postwar Labour Government in London was its programme of economic planning involving a series of nationalisations in key industries and a large degree of state intervention. Any idea of losing the ability to conduct such policies at a national level was abhorrent to the whole of the Labour Party and Government. Handing over such powers to a European body of any sort would have been unacceptable. Indeed, the very idea of a supranational authority was rejected on all sides in Britain. The post-war Attlee Government was prepared to collaborate with the other Europeans, to help Europe to recover, but without over-committing

Initial skirmishes 47 Britain. Opposition to a federal structure for Europe was expressed throughout Labour’s term in office and was made very clear when the Schuman plan was presented in 1950. Insofar as the British considered any future European union, it was one based on an intergovernmental approach. In fact, there was little interest in Britain in setting up a European community of any sort. If one should be created, which most people in Britain doubted given the widely held belief that the continental Europeans were incapable of working together on a common project, then it was highly improbable that Britain would choose to participate. This, however, was accompanied by growing anxiety that if Western Europe was to unite, while Britain stood aloof, this would provide a vehicle for a resurgent Germany to impose its dominance over the Continent. Attitudes towards these questions in France were still uncertain. There was growing unease at the way Europe was evolving under British direction and with the Council of Europe and the OEEC as its most prominent institutions. Opposition to a federal Europe was strong, especially among the Gaullists, the nationalist right-wing parties and the Communists. Others, however, were beginning to seriously consider this possibility. Federalists in France and elsewhere were frustrated at how the British were holding back their efforts to deepen European integration. One of them complained in 1950 that ‘[s]ince the end of the war . . . the whole history of Europe is the story of the concessions made to England. All European organisations have been emptied of any substance so that Great Britain could join them.’6 Several French initiatives were blocked by the British or so far watered down as to be meaningless. At the same time, there were, for the moment, few people in France who were ready to consider pushing ahead with European integration without Britain or in the face of outright British opposition. This changed in 1950. The Government in Paris was beginning to think of European integration in a far more formal and constitutional way than was acceptable to the British whose preference was for a more pragmatic, evolutive step-by-step approach based on international cooperation rather than on genuine integration. Macmillan told a group of European leaders in 1949 that the British ‘had a fundamental mistrust of written constitutions, and it was, therefore, useless trying to bring them into a federal union.’7 Bevin made the same case for the Government when he told the House of Commons in January 1948: [I]t is easy enough to draw up a blueprint for a united Western Europe and to construct neat-looking plans on paper . . . it is a much slower and harder job to carry out a practical programme which takes into account the realities which face us . . . it will have to be done a step at a time.8 It was obvious that the British and French Governments were far apart in their conceptions of any future European institutions, their modes of operation, the powers that they should be given and how far their areas of competence should

48  Initial skirmishes go. London and Paris attempted to set the European agenda and place themselves in the leading position in Europe. Both put forward rival and, for the most part, incompatible propositions. While neither Government sought to exclude the other from their plans for Europe, fitting them into their own designs proved to be problematic. Despite their underlying problems and their vacillating governments, it was France and not Britain that was most eager to set out a series of proposals for European integration. One project put forward was to create a French-led continental economic bloc (FINABEL) including France, the Benelux countries, Italy, the Saar (then under French control) and the French zone of occupation in Germany. This was blocked by the British who disliked its protectionist elements that would have discriminated against third parties, including Britain. The attempts by the French and Belgians to use the Brussels Pact as a starting point for further European integration were also frustrated. This set a pattern for future British policies towards Europe. That the French were prepared to consider a form of European integration that included a strong executive, along with the idea of majority voting, went directly against British thinking. The British preference, indeed their insistence, was for a purely intergovernmental system with unanimous decision-making. Unlike some of the ideas emerging on the Continent, the British had no desire to create a radically new Europe. They were more comfortable with the old international system in Europe. Until 1950, they were largely successful in holding onto this. The Council of Europe, created in 1949, a year after the Hague Conference at which Churchill had called for the Europeans to unite, reflected British thinking. Its Consultative Assembly was composed of delegates drawn from the national Parliaments of the member states and not directly elected as federalists had hoped. A Ministerial Committee held all decision-making powers in those limited areas in which it operated. Decisions were taken unanimously thus ensuring that the purely intergovernmental approach of the British prevailed. While the British saw this as sufficient progress in European integration, even as a final step, federalists on the Continent dismissed it as a disappointing halfempty shell. Hopes that it might be used as a stepping stone towards future developments were kept in check by the British. Bevin and Attlee dismissed the Council as nothing more than a talking shop. Morrison, Bevin’s replacement as Foreign Secretary, went further. He thought it was a threat to British sovereignty and recommended that Britain should withdraw from it altogether. Many continental European delegates were frustrated at such an unambitious approach to European integration. In 1950, Vincent Auriol, the anglophile French President (1947–54), noted that he was ‘petrified by the attitude of the English (who) really have no sense of international or European solidarity.’ In 1951, Adenauer disappointingly concluded that Britain ‘feels itself to be a neighbour of Europe rather than a European nation.’9

Initial skirmishes 49 The work of the OEEC from 1948 onwards revealed further divergences between the British and French notions of Europe. Two ways of thinking came up against each other. The first, British, plan was to free up trade without the setting up of any central authority and with decision-making on an exclusively intergovernmental basis; the second, from France, also aimed to free up markets but in a coordinated manner and managed by a European investment bank. The structure finally agreed to was another victory for the British. The role of the OEEC remained strictly limited, leaving the existing European state system largely unchanged. Like the Council of Europe, it fell far short of the federalists’ hopes of creating a true European union in the economic and political spheres. The European Payments Union (EPU), set up in September 1950, provided another example of Britain’s preference for tackling European problems in a pragmatic fashion. Others in Europe bemoaned the EPU’s limits, just as they had done for the OEEC and the Council of Europe. Each of these three organisations worked very well in their ways, but taken altogether they failed to provide any real impetus for further European integration. For the British, this was precisely what they wanted. For federalists such as Monnet and his followers, these organisations failed to provide the inspirational vision for the future of Europe that they were looking for. For the Americans, whose Marshall aid had given the initial impetus to the OEEC, none of them went far enough in cementing the political cohesion of Western Europe they were calling for. Later efforts to change the OEEC’s direction were unsuccessful. When the European integration movement was renewed in the following years, it took a very different approach. Taking up positions The idea of France assuming the leadership of a renewed post-war Europe had already been contemplated in the wartime resistance and Free French movements. Similar objectives were presented in the immediate post-war years. Many of these French projects were frustrated by the opposition of others in Europe, notably the British. They were also held back by the weak domestic positions of those in France who were promoting them. The French were nonetheless able to exercise significant influence in the European bodies that were set up after 1945. Although many of the ideas put forward by France failed to get off the ground, the French were placing themselves among the European ‘thought leaders’ and it was from Paris that the next, and the first real, European initiative was to come. For the moment, five years after the end of the War, it was the British who could be most satisfied with the way Europe had evolved. Many observers thought that Britain was firmly in the European driving seat. It had taken a leading role through the Treaty of Dunkirk, the Brussels Pact and NATO, and British views had been adopted in the creation of the Council of Europe and the OEEC. None of them had been set up with a supranational Europe in mind. Post-1945 Europe,

50  Initial skirmishes like the post-war world in general, had been created on an Anglo-Saxon model. There were, however, already some early signs of concerns in London about the future direction of Europe. Confronted with radically new ideas for further European integration being concocted by various groups on the Continent, the British were being gradually forced onto the defensive. Their blocking tactics were, for the moment, successful in re-directing these initiatives into channels that they regarded as harmless and which European federalists saw as unpromising backwaters. British confidence that they would be able to hold the line against these federalist initiatives remained strong. This self-assurance was seriously challenged over the course of the following decade. Did this constitute a failure on the part of the British to take on the leading role in Europe, seizing the opportunity offered to them in the post-war period when their relative position in Europe was so strong? Many in Europe would have welcomed this. Others would have accepted it, albeit with less enthusiasm. The possibility of working with the other Europeans, including the French, in a form of joint leadership was also on offer. Whether this constituted an over-looked opportunity or a missed bus was unsure, although for some it was a source of regret. At the time, if there was a European bus that the British wanted to take it was one that was designed for only the shortest distances. There were already signs that the other Europeans had no desire to board the same bus or to allow a British driver to take the wheel. These divergent outlooks were particularly noticeable between London and Paris. The two rivals showed few concerns for each other’s problems or sensibilities, an attitude that became increasingly noticeable in the following years. They were beginning to look at European and global problems, the Cold War and relations with the United States through quite different lenses. Attempts to find a compromise that would have allowed for a form of shared leadership failed to get off the ground. For the moment, the British remained confident that they could hold onto the leading position in Europe. Equally importantly, they were still convinced that the other Europeans were not in a position to challenge them on this. A Cabinet note in January 1949 argued that Europe was stalling and that an ‘effective new lead can only be provided by this country, which alone of the countries of Western Europe, has the necessary standing and technical capacity to work out a scheme which can give new life to the O.E.E.C. conception.’ The paper went on, however, to warn of the dangers of becoming too deeply involved in European affairs pointing out the ‘risk that, in taking this lead, and attempting to put Western Europe on its legs, we may be led into courses which would make this country no longer a viable unit apart from the rest of Western Europe.’10 This paradox at the heart of the British approach to Europe was never entirely resolved. Britain opposed the construction of a united Europe along federal lines but feared that they could not prevent those on the Continent who wanted to move in that direction from doing so. Britain was reluctant to make the commitment to Europe that a leadership role required but afraid that if it did not take this on it would leave the field open to others. In the

Initial skirmishes 51 short term, this would be France; in the longer term, this would be Germany. In either case, they would in all probability take Europe in an unwelcome direction. Notes

1 Spaak, Face to Face, 4. 2 Spaak, Face to Face, 6. 3 Quoted in Grob-Fitzgibbon, Continental Drift, 24. 4 FO371/77999, 16 April  1949. Quoted in Gowland, Turner, and Wright, European Integration, 26. 5 Quoted in Black, Convergence or Divergence? 236. 6 Maurice Duvrger quoted in Serfaty, De Gaulle and Europe, 60. 7 Quoted in Grob-Fitzgibbon, Continental Drift, 127. 8 Hansard, 22 January 1948. 9 Quoted in Wurm, “Western Europe,” 240. 10 CAB 134/221, (49)6, 25 January 1949.

References Black, Jeremy. Convergence or Divergence? Britain and the Continent. Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1994. Gowland, David, Turner, Arthur, and Wright, Alex. Britain and European Integration Since 1945: On the Sidelines. London: Routledge, 2009. Grob-Fitzgibbon, Benjamin. Continental Drift. Britain and Europe From the End of Empire to the Rise of Euroscepticism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016. Serfaty, Simon. France, de Gaulle and Europe: The Policy of the 4th and 5th Republics Towards the Continent. Baltimore: The John Hopkins University Press, 1968. Spaak, Paul-Henri. Face to Face With Europe. London: Conservative Political Centre, 1967. Wurm, Clement. “Britain, Western Europe and European Integration 1945–1957: The View From the Continent.” European Review of History, 6, No. 2 (1999): 235–49.

5 Rethinking Europe

After the failed attempts to find an Anglo-French agreement over the future of Europe, the British and French Governments had taken divergent paths. While the loose forms of European structure exemplified by the OEEC and the Council of Europe satisfied the British, in France there was a growing feeling that these were insufficient and that a new initiative was required. The European Coal and Steel Community (ECSC) presented by the French Foreign Minister, Robert Schuman, in 1950 was both a proposal for a new direction for European integration and a rejection of the paths taken over the previous five years. The new course was being set by France while the old dead ends were those of the British. The Schuman Plan: a French bid for leadership The central idea of the ECSC was to place the member states’ coal and steel industries under a supranational High Authority. An Assembly of seventy-eight members drawn from the national Parliaments would provide a form of democratic accountability and a European Court of Justice would enforce compliance with the Community’s rules. From the outset, these supranational characteristics of the ECSC were unacceptable to the British. Schuman and Monnet had been working on this plan for some time before presenting it. They had been encouraged by the Americans who saw European integration as a means of strengthening the political unity of Western Europe against the Soviet threat, of accelerating European economic growth and reinforcing the bonds holding West Germany into the western camp. Given Britain’s obvious reticence to undertake any similar initiative, the Americans had looked to the French to assume the leadership of this new European project. West German leaders were keen to be involved in these moves towards greater European integration. Adenauer in particular welcomed any initiative designed to keep his country firmly tied both to the United States and to Western Europe. Like the Americans, it was to France that he now looked for European leadership. The Americans and the West Germans, but not the British, had been informed before Schuman’s announcement. The secrecy with which the plan had been prepared was deliberate. Having seen DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-5

Rethinking Europe  53 the British successfully divert and dilute previous French propositions, leading them into never-ending and ultimately futile debates, the French decided to spring this plan on them without any forewarning. As the British had avoided informing the French of their decision to devalue sterling the previous year, while coordinating this operation with the Americans, the French felt no compunction at doing the same. Invitations were sent to various countries, including Britain, to participate in talks to discuss the Plan’s application, accompanied by the proviso that there had to be prior acceptance of the Plan’s essential ideas, notably the principle of the supranational High Authority. Schuman insisted that he would discuss the plan ‘with whoever wanted to talk about it’ but he ruled out looking for ‘a solution based on the traditional old bad habits.’ In a direct challenge to the British, he wrote that the ‘disappointing experiences of the OEEC should act as a warning’ and that the project should be ‘conceived as a supranational institution . . . not as a sort of conference in which the various conflicts of interest are fought over and possibly resolved.’ He recognised that this would be difficult for some countries to accept, most obviously for the British, and that there would be an ‘inherent doctrinal opposition’1 to his ideas but this did not lessen his determination to move ahead quickly with his Plan. After three weeks of fruitless discussions between London and Paris, the French set a 48-hour ultimatum for the British to give an answer. The reply was a clear ‘no.’ Schuman’s deliberate decision to keep Britain out of the loop before announcing the plan and his insistence on Britain agreeing beforehand to the supranational authority, together with the way in which the final presentation was made, all indicate that the French were not seeking British participation and that they did not expect that the Government in London would agree to the terms he was laying down. Schuman and Monnet also feared that, if the British were involved in talks, the whole scheme risked being redirected along wholly unacceptable lines. The timing and the presentation of the plan all suggest that the French were less interested in getting the British to agree than in pushing ahead quickly with those who did. It was certainly an off-hand manner to deal with London and one that the British were not used to from the French. Oliver Harvey, the British Ambassador in Paris (1948–54), blamed the final breakdown on French inflexibility and the different British and French approaches. It was, he concluded, ‘a classic example of the difficulty of reconciling French Cartesianism with British empiricism, the French habit of proposing lofty aims and then thinking out the methods of achieving them with the British habit of only advancing step by step.’2 Beyond the differences of method, the Schuman Plan brought into the open the two countries’ very distinct visions of Europe. Monnet had previously argued in favour of including Britain, but by 1948, he had lost hope that the British could be convinced to take part in the sort of plans he was preparing. After the official launch of the Plan, he told Stafford Cripps, the British Chancellor of the Exchequer, that he would welcome having Britain

54  Rethinking Europe alongside the others in Europe. But he went on to warn him that, if the British chose to remain outside, the French would go ahead without them, but with Germany. His prediction was that Britain, once it saw that the Europeans were making a success of their project, would eventually realise its mistake and finally come on board, but that this would then be on French terms. Like Schuman, he was motivated by the idea of imposing a French model on a French-led Europe. France, he said, ‘was designated by history’ to play this role and to provide the ‘essential contribution.’3 The Schuman Plan was presented to the domestic audience in France as a means of assuring French leadership. In Britain, the very nature of the Plan was rejected by almost everyone; that it was inspired by two Frenchmen only added to the British disapproval and feelings of unease. When he was presented with this unwelcome and unexpected plan, Bevin was at first infuriated that he had not been given any prior warning. When he learnt that Adenauer and Acheson, the American Secretary of State, had been informed, he saw it as a Franco-American plot to exclude Britain from their plans for the future of Europe. Once the initial fury had blown over, his calmer response was no more favourable. In London, the plan was seen as a French manoeuvre designed to seize the leadership of Europe from the British. Whatever their other motives in putting forward this plan, in doing so Monnet and Schuman had undoubtedly placed France at the forefront of the European movement. Schuman’s timing and presentation of his Plan had outmanoeuvred the British. The enthusiastic support given by the United States ruled out any outright attempt to block it. The French had played the supranational card effectively, as a means of controlling Germany, winning over the United States and sidelining the British. But they had played it without entirely accepting the federalist idea of Europe. Support for European integration had been based as much on France’s national interests as on a genuine desire to see a federal Europe. Much of French opinion, including Ministers and senior officials, remained sceptical. Monnet and Schuman had pushed through their plan by restricting the debate to a limited group and bypassing parts of the usual decision-making procedures. Several influential members of the Quai d’Orsay and the Finance Ministry came out against the Plan. The Finance Minister, Maurice Petsche, was still in favour of working through the OEEC; others disliked the ECSC’s overly technocratic aspects. Some in France feared that it would split Western Europe and felt that Britain’s presence was needed to create a successful European entity. The prospect of leaving France in a purely continental combination, in an uncomfortable head to head with Germany, was a source of considerable unease in Paris. For the British, this last point opened up the possibility of influencing the French by offering themselves as a counterweight to Germany. They could also make a similar offer to the Germans. However, for the moment, the French Government was sufficiently confident in its position to accept the idea of working alongside the Germans within the confines of a Europe limited to the six initial members of the ECSC. Given Britain’s absence from the ensuing negotiations, this

Rethinking Europe 55 was the only available basis on which to build Europe for the immediate future. Importantly for France, Adenauer was not only won over to this project, but he also accepted to place his country in a subordinate position behind France. Another significant French achievement had been to win over the Americans. In line with their earlier encouragement, the Americans expressed their strong support for the Plan when it was revealed. This was undoubtedly a considerable diplomatic success for the French who had gained a lead over their British rivals in Europe. In London, the creation of a continental group of six nations in the ECSC was a worrying sign of Britain’s deteriorating position. In choosing to stand aside from this important European initiative the British seriously weakened their hand in future negotiations. For the moment, the best they could do was hope that the ECSC would not lead to the ‘Six’ distancing themselves even further from Britain by continuing along the integrationist path they had set out on. British reactions to Schuman The British did not welcome the prospect of the Six operating as a European group from which they were excluded and yet all the fundamentals of British foreign policy militated against British participation in the Schuman Plan. The belief in a more global approach to economic and commercial questions, the assumption of Britain’s world role and its focus on the Cold War and issues beyond Europe convinced the British Government to reject Schuman’s invitation. There was also a degree of complacency in much of British thinking and a tendency to doubt the willingness and ability of the other Europeans to make a success of such schemes. The ECSC seemed to many in London to embody a very French approach to solving Europe’s problems. The ideological opposition to what many feared would be an undemocratic, bureaucratic, steel cartel was another factor, particularly in the Labour Party. The feeling that the Schuman Plan was a Catholic-inspired project to recreate the Holy Roman Empire was added to the mix. Schuman himself was ‘said to be very much under the influence of the priests’ and his plan ‘a step in the consolidation of the Catholic “black international”.’4 Above all, the supranational powers accorded to the ECSC meant that participation was out of the question for most people in Britain. That Britain and France were thinking of Europe along quite different lines had been recognised well before Schuman presented his plan. What he was proposing pulled the two sides even further apart. The diametrically opposed British and French ideas about the future of Europe were now clearer than ever. For the French, the main objective was to keep Germany in check by establishing a form of supranational control over the key German coal and steel industries via the ECSC’s High Authority. Placing French industries in the same position was considered to be an acceptable sacrifice in the greater scheme of things. For the British, on the other hand, this was a price they were not willing to pay, especially given the political importance of the recently nationalised coal and

56  Rethinking Europe steel industries for the Labour Government and its plans for state planning of the economy. For the British, European integration as presented in the Schuman Plan was more of a threat to be overcome than an opportunity and should be blocked or diverted by whatever means necessary. Yet, remaining outside the emerging European structures, as some in Britain were beginning to realise, also presented some serious potential problems. The British comforted themselves with the belief that the whole project was likely to collapse before it ever got off the ground. Macmillan, for example, predicted that when the French ‘realise that it means going in without Britain, they may shrink from handing over their rather weak and largely obsolescent industry to German control. For, in a few years, that is what it will mean.’5 Many others thought that the Six would not be able to make a go of it without Britain. The Foreign Office’s advice in June  1950 was that the ‘Franco-German talks would inevitably break down sooner or later, and . . . we would then have the chance of coming in as deus ex machina with a solution of our own.’6 Waiting and hoping for the Plan to collapse did not constitute a coherent policy towards Europe. While the British continued to drag their feet, refusing to face up to uncomfortable but unavoidable questions about their future role in Europe and the world, there was a greater willingness among the continental Europeans to consider new courses of action. Contrary to British hopes and expectations, the ECSC went ahead. The British had again underestimated the determination of the other Europeans and the cohesion that existed between them. They had also miscalculated the strength of the French position. In fact, having won over the Germans and the Americans, there was nothing holding back the French from going through with their plans. Once it was up and running, the ECSC had only a slight impact on Britain and on its coal and steel industries and Britain signed an agreement of association with it in 1954 without any difficulty. It was nonetheless a significant development, establishing a group of European nations who had shown that they were able and willing to work together and to do so without the British. Even more dangerously from the British perspective, the ECSC was potentially only a first step towards a more ambitious programme of European integration. It also constituted a major change of direction in French foreign policy. This was no longer looking to work on a bilateral basis with Britain to build a new European system and was instead now focusing on working as part of a group of six with, at its heart, a new and closer French relationship with Germany. Churchill, the European? Although Winston Churchill was in opposition from 1945 to 1951, he actively participated in the European debate both in Britain and on the Continent. His rousing speech in Zurich in September 1946 inspired many across Europe and

Rethinking Europe 57 gave added impetus to the European integration debate that was then just taking off. Churchill outlined how this great cause could be achieved. ‘The first step in the re-creation of the European family,’ he said, ‘must be a partnership between France and Germany.’ Much of the speech then turned to the question of who should lead the movement towards this new Europe. Reconciliation with Germany was the key, he argued, that would allow France to ‘recover the moral and cultural leadership of Europe’ and he went on to proclaim in the plainest terms that ‘France and Germany must take the lead together.’ As for Britain’s role in this new Europe, Churchill saw this alongside the Commonwealth, America and, hopefully, Soviet Russia, as ‘friends and sponsors.’7 Churchill expressed similar opinions throughout his time in opposition and he, along with several other Conservatives, was critical of the Attlee Government’s negative reactions to the Schuman Plan. Pro-Europeans in Britain hoped that his return to office in 1951 would see more engagement with Europe. However, it soon became clear that he would not follow through with his earlier support for European integration. In reality, Churchill’s grand view of Europe and Britain’s relations with it had always been ambiguous and lacking in practical detail. In his Zurich speech, he had placed Britain apart from the Continent, encouraging others to unite while limiting Britain’s participation. Back in office, he rejected any idea that Britain should become part of an integrated Europe. ‘I never thought that Britain or the British Commonwealth should, either individually or collectively, become an integral part of a European federation,’ he told the Cabinet in November 1951: Our first object is the unity and consolidation of the British Commonwealth and what is left of the former British Empire. Our second, the ‘fraternal association’ of the English-speaking world; and, third, United Europe, to which we are a separate, closely- and specially-related ally and friend.8 The federalist elements in the projects being put forward on the Continent were categorically ruled out, whatever Party was in Government in London. Pro-Europeans in Britain were disappointed by the attitude of the Churchill Government. Federalists on the Continent felt the same way but they had gone beyond waiting for British participation or approval to pursue their movement towards an integrated Europe. Spaak, who had had such high hopes in the British only a few years before, now resigned as President of the Council of Europe in protest at Britain’s refusal to engage meaningfully with the other Europeans. In December 1951, he concluded: Either we must line up with Great Britain and renounce the attempt to create a united Europe, or we must endeavour to create Europe without Great Britain. For my part, I choose the second alternative, despite the risks and all the dangers involved.9

58  Rethinking Europe The six countries that signed up to the ECSC were now committed to working together, with or without the British. The two sides were steadily drifting apart but they had not yet given up on each other. Britain could not afford to turn its back on Europe and there were still many people on the Continent who felt uneasy at the idea of moving ahead without the British. For the French, the prospect of finding themselves alone in Europe, confronting a Germany whose strength would only grow over time, and in all probability overtake their own, was a source of deep concern. For Italy and the Benelux countries, the idea of being relegated to a minor, possibly subservient, role in a Europe dominated by France and Germany was no more appealing. British participation in Europe was seen as a possible solution to these problems. The British themselves were not blind to the leadership opportunities that remained open to them in Europe, although it was unsure as to whether they would be willing to take them. Leadership from the edge The growing distance between Britain and the Continent did not prevent the Government in London from holding onto the hope that they could still occupy the leading position in Europe. One Foreign Office official in January  1951 believed that Britain’s aim ‘to be considered as equal partners with the United States’ would ‘become easier of realisation if we speak as the undisputed leaders of Europe as well as the heart and centre of the British Commonwealth,’10 something which he believed was within their reach. In 1952, the British representative to the OEEC estimated that the Europeans look to us for leadership; they are delighted when we are able to give it; they respond to it in a remarkable manner . . . we can, if we so wish, guide Europe in searching for a solution in common with the United States, and it is the hope of many of our European partners that we will give that guidance.11 These aims to have an ‘equal partnership’ with the Americans and to be the ‘undisputed leaders’ of Europe were being undermined and contradicted by events and opinions on the other sides of the Channel and the Atlantic. There were still plenty of people in Britain who felt that these were achievable objectives if there was sufficient political will to pursue them. Macmillan added the warning that, unless some move was made in this direction, Britain risked finding itself marginalised in a French-dominated Europe. Counterproposals to the Schuman plan were put forward by the British Government but with little conviction. Churchill had distanced himself from the European movement when he returned as Prime Minister. His Foreign Secretary and replacement as Prime Minister in 1955, Anthony Eden, was a Francophile far removed from some of the ‘Little Englanders’ in his Party. But he was never

Rethinking Europe 59 convinced that Britain should participate in anything approaching a federal scheme for Europe. In the summer of 1950, an initial counterproposal had been made at the Council of Europe, on Churchill’s instigation, by the Conservative MPs David Eccles and Harold Macmillan. This set out a set of similar objectives to the Schuman Plan but proposed replacing the ECSC’s High Authority with a Committee of Ministers operating as the voices of their respective national Governments in a purely intergovernmental structure. This had the added advantage for the British of opening the door to a far wider membership including those countries who, like Britain, felt unable to sign up to the supranational elements of the ECSC. It also meant emptying Schuman’s Plan of most of its essential points. Unsurprisingly, the British proposals were thrown out by the Six. Macmillan returned to this theme in early 1952 with a memorandum for the Cabinet recommending that Britain should offer an alternative European plan based on a confederal framework similar to the Commonwealth. He hoped that, by entering into such an agreement, and by acting as a balance between France and Germany, Britain could become ‘the unchallenged leader of the European Confederation.’ This, he went on to claim, would also strengthen Britain’s position within the Commonwealth. Britain, he grandly forecast, would be in a leading position in ‘both the Commonwealth and Europe’ which would allow Britain ‘to establish a more equal partnership with the United States.’ Macmillan, somewhat optimistically, predicted that the Dutch and the Belgians, as well as many in the French and German Parliaments, ‘would prefer a loose European Union including Britain’12 to the existing ECSC model. This idea was not taken up by his more senior colleagues in the Government and was never put to the Six. In March 1952, Eden’s far less ambitious proposals to bring together the various European communities within the framework of the Council of Europe were rejected by the Six who regarded them as an attempt to derail the efforts being made by others rather than as a positive plan for Europe. While the British plans were being thrown out, the French also were putting forward their own further plans for Europe. These were somewhat better received than those coming out of London. These latest French proposals were a logical follow-up to the Schuman Plan which had always aspired to go far beyond its immediate scope. The first moves would be in the economic field, but it was clear that there were other important political objectives behind them. The next steps were to move from the economy to the far more sensitive areas of defence and political union. The European Defence Community When the Korean War broke out in June 1950, the Americans called on their European allies to agree to Germany being allowed to rearm as a means of reinforcing the West’s defences against the Soviet Union. The French, only five years after the end of the War, were uncomfortable with the idea even if these rearmed Germans would be facing eastwards and not towards them. They knew,

60  Rethinking Europe however, that they were not in a sufficiently strong position to be able to block what was an American priority. Their solution was the plan put forward by the French Minister of Defence, René Pleven, in October 1950 to create a European Defence Community (EDC) that would allow Germany to rearm within an integrated European framework. As with the ECSC, this second French proposal was welcomed by Adenauer. The British, following their well-established pattern, made it clear from the outset that they would not be a full partner in the enterprise. The terms of the final agreement, signed in 1952, confirmed the British in their decision. As with the ECSC, British objections centred on the EDC’s supranational elements, particularly in such a vital area as defence. The idea of a European army in which the various national forces would be amalgamated was dismissed as impracticable. British critics went so far as to compare it to ‘a sort of cancer in the Atlantic body’ (Bevin) or as a ‘sludgy amalgam’ (Churchill) that would be of doubtful military value.13 The British were unwilling to commit their forces to the EDC, something which the French Government insisted on before they finalised their agreement. In a series of tense exchanges, both sides sought to place blame for the lack of progress on the other. Although the British did not envisage full participation in the EDC for themselves, they nonetheless preferred to see it succeed, not least because of the support it was given by the United States who saw it not only as a reinforcement of NATO’s military capability but also as a means of further tying Germany into the Western Alliance and of bolstering European unity. If the French pulled out of the EDC, as seemed increasingly likely, thus refusing to allow German rearmament, London and Washington argued that the French would be repeating the foreign policy errors they had made after 1918. As the debate in France dragged on British and American pressure on the Government in Paris grew, going so far as to warn the French that, if they did not ratify the EDC Treaty, there was a risk that the United States would withdraw its troops from Europe in which case Britain might well do the same. While the debate in Paris over the ratification of the EDC continued, the Six were already looking beyond this and considering an even more ambitious political project for Europe. European federalists did not consider the EDC as an end in itself but rather as one more step on a longer and wider path of European integration. For its supporters, integration in the defence field needed to be completed with some form of political authority and it was with this objective in mind that the Six agreed to open talks to consider a European Political Union (EPU). Monnet, who was again the driving force behind the project, continued to see France as its natural leader. France, he said, would play ‘a decisive role’14 while Britain would play no immediate part in his scheme. In fact, the EPU would have gone far beyond anything that Britain was prepared to contemplate. The Plan also provoked intense opposition in France, notably from the Gaullists and the Communist Party. Previous French Governments had successfully pushed through the Schuman Plan at home and in Europe. The Governments that now

Rethinking Europe 61 had to defend this latest round of proposals were more uncertain. Opponents of the EDC and EPU highlighted the dangers of allowing the free movement of people and of exposing French businesses to competition in a common market. They also pointed out that the proposed plans would restrict the possibilities for state aid to French industry. As in Britain, they focused on the threat to national sovereignty that would result from an extension of the powers of the supranational authority. In order to head off this opposition, the French insisted on additional clauses being added to the agreements allowing for the suspension of certain aspects of the EPU by national authorities and guarantees that they would be able to maintain France’s colonial possessions. In terms very similar to his previous reaction to Britain’s reluctance to accept European integration in 1950–51, Spaak now voiced his disappointment at France’s lack of European enthusiasm and its unwillingness to carry on as the ‘leader of European construction.’15 His fears were confirmed when, in 1954 after months of debate, the French Assembly rejected the EDC. This was a considerable setback for French ambitions to play the leading role in Europe. It was now France that was seen as the barrier to progress in Europe, a role normally reserved for the British. The French had launched the project and had now brought it down. The collapse of the EDC also ended the immediate hopes of the European federalists to create a European Political Union. Europe had set off in a new direction with the Schuman Plan but it had now stalled. This reinforced the conviction in Britain that the whole European project had been ill-thought-out from the start and that it was now going nowhere. For the British, the danger of the EDC spilling over into a supranational political structure was removed. EDC and EPU had failed because Monnet’s attempts to accelerate European integration had out­ paced what the French Assembly and the French people were prepared to accept. The Schuman Plan had set the bar of supranationalism high enough to achieve a significant step forward but it had concerned areas that were less sensitive than those included in these later projects. These were simply a step too far and one taken too quickly for them to be acceptable to a majority in France. Added to the seemingly intractable problems facing the country in Indo-China and North Africa, the EDC fiasco indicated that France was no longer capable of directing Europe. The limits of French power had become clear to the other Europeans, including the British. The final collapse of these projects was welcomed in London. That this was the result of a French decision was an added bonus. The humiliating failure of the French appeared to open up new possibilities for Britain. The breakdown of the EDC had been on the cards for some time and most decision-makers in Britain had both expected and hoped for such an outcome. Macmillan had earlier warned that, while a successful EDC would be beneficial in allowing German rearmament, the longer-term consequences would be ‘grim indeed.’ Should it succeed, he warned, Britain would be excluded from a European Community ‘which would effectively control Europe.’ He turned to history to make his point. The situation facing Britain in Europe, he said, was the same

62  Rethinking Europe ‘historic struggle in which we had been engaged first against Louis XIV, then against Napoleon, and twice in our lifetime against Germany.’ Should Britain fail now, he predicted that ‘we might be bringing about in twenty years’ time that domination of Europe by Germany to prevent which we had made such terrible sacrifice twice within a single generation.’16 When Macmillan heard that the French Assembly had voted against the EDC, he declared this ‘a good result for us. “Federation” of Europe means “Germanisation” of Europe. “Confederation” (if we play our cards properly) should be British leadership of Europe.’17 His mood was now upbeat. ‘The federal system of EDC is dead,’ he recorded, ‘the confederal system of Western European Union is very much alive. . . . It is really a great triumph for us. . . . It has been a real pleasure to see England leading Europe.’18 Britain was now in a position to take on a more positive role in Europe, picking up the pieces left by the collapse of the EDC and putting them back together in a different format. It was Anthony Eden who now stepped forward, uniting the previous signatories of the EDC alongside Britain, Canada and the United States to create the Western European Union (WEU). This allowed for the rearmament of West Germany and its entry into NATO but within a different framework from the one envisaged in the EDC. The supranational elements that the British had objected to were removed and replaced by a purely intergovernmental system. By bringing in Canada and the United States, the WEU also fitted into Britain’s Atlanticist vision. The WEU was also unlikely to provide the basis for further European integration which again suited British plans. This was understandably seen as a triumph for the British Foreign Secretary and as an undoubted victory for the British approach to Europe. Britain appeared to have regained the initiative in the race for the leadership of Europe. This was not to last long. Britain’s success over the WEU was not followed through. Once it had been set up, the British saw little interest in actually making use of it. Abandoned leadership Britain’s decision not to take part in the negotiations launched by Schuman in 1950 was intensely debated for many years. For some, the choice was a grave error that led to many of the problems for Britain in its relations with the rest of Europe over the following years. For Acheson, it was ‘the greatest mistake of the post-war period.’19 If Britain had been part of these talks at the outset, it was sometimes claimed, then it would have been able to influence the European institutions that it was later obliged to enter. Britain, in this view, would have been in a leading position in this new Europe. Instead, Britain’s absence from the principal European institutions for the next twenty years allowed the FrancoGerman reconciliation to be transformed into a Franco-German leadership. Various British politicians looked back with regret on these missed opportunities. For Alec Douglas-Home, ‘we could have had the leadership of Europe but . . . let

Rethinking Europe  63 it slip from our grasp.’20 Tony Blair showed little regret for his own decisions in office but he was always happy to point out how his predecessors had passed over numerous opportunities to place Britain in the lead in Europe. For others, the idea that the leadership of Europe was Britain’s for the asking ‘is shot through with nationalistic assumptions.’ As Alan Milward argued, ‘Europe was not asking to be led.’21 Nor were the British willing to accept the conditions the other Europeans were insisting on in order to be part of their European project. There were certainly important differences between the British and continental projects for the future of Europe. At the same time, neither the French nor the others in the Six were entirely committed to the federalist cause and while they often adopted federalist rhetoric this was not always entirely genuine. Had Britain been willing to pay at least lip service to the idea of a European federation, there would have been scope for an agreement. In theory, the supranational and intergovernmental, federal and confederal, approaches were distinct. In practice, the differences were often blurred. As later European projects and the treaties and agreements that were drawn up to implement them were to show, differing interpretations could be given to the same text. In fact, this was often done deliberately to allow the differences to be papered over. Agreement in the 1950s between the British, with their intergovernmental approach, and those on the Continent who were thinking along more federal lines was far from impossible. Nor were all the continental Europeans necessarily opposed to the British views, notably on the question of the relations with the United States. The British continued to see themselves as the natural leaders of Europe and they resisted any other, especially French, attempts to assume this role. Whether the other Europeans were ready to accept British leadership was always unsure. In 1950, Bevin quite simply stated: ‘They don’t want us.’22 It was nevertheless still possible to see significant, although declining, support for the British. European integration was still at an embryonic stage and the outcome of the battle for leadership remained uncertain. For the British, the Schuman plan took Europe in the wrong direction. It did not, however, determine the entire future of Europe, nor did it seal the Franco-German partnership. Adenauer had not yet come down definitively on the side of France, and in many respects, Britain had as much to offer West Germany as France did. In 1955, there were still grounds for British optimism in Europe. The ECSC posed no great threat and appeared unsuited to take Europe further along an integrationist path. The failure of the EDC reinforced this belief. Britain had dampened the federalists’ impulses and had maintained its limited commitments to Europe. France was a serious rival but its position was not strong, particularly after the humiliation of the EDC/ EPU. The endemic instability of Governments in Paris, and the crises they were facing in their colonies, restricted their ability to play an effective leadership role in Europe. At the same time, there were fewer positive British achievements to point to. The WEU was created according to British plans but this success was not exploited. The British retained a complacent attitude towards the activities of

64  Rethinking Europe the Six with little forward-thinking or long-term planning. In the meantime, as Douglas Hurd later wrote, the ‘debate on Europe in Britain moved on at a glacial pace, the debate on the Continent at a speed which caught Britain off guard.’23 Notes 1 Reprinted in Bossuat, Faire l’Europe, 305–6. 2 Quoted in Pastor-Castro, Paris Embassy, 54. 3 Quoted in Bossuat, Faire l’Europe, 290. 4 Kenneth Younger quoted in Young, Blessed Plot, 50–51. 5 Catterall, Cabinet Years, 8. 6 Quoted in Bogdanor, Troubled World, 17. 7 Speech at Zurich, 19 September 1946. 8 CAB 129/48, C(51) 32. 9 Quoted in Williams, France, 168. 10 Quoted in Milward, National Strategy, 70. 11 DBPO, series II, Vol. I, No.466, 8 July 1952. 12 Quoted in Grob-Fitzgibbon, Continental Drift, 165. 13 Pastor-Castro, Paris Embassy, 72. 14 Quoted in Bossuat, Construction, 99. 15 Spaak, Combats, II, 60. 16 Macmillan, Tides of Fortune, 466. 17 Catterall, Cabinet Years, 352. 18 Catterall, Cabinet Years, 362–63. 19 The Economist, 2 June 1979. Quoted in Horne, Macmillan, 319. 20 Daddow, Britain and Europe, 95. 21 Milward, National Strategy, 3. 22 Callaghan, Time and Chance, 79. 23 Hurd, Weapons, 348.

References Bogdanor, Vernon. Britain and Europe in a Troubled World. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2020. Bossuat, Gérard. Faire l’Europe sans défaire la France: 60 ans de politique d’unité européenne des gouvernements et des Présidents de la République française, 1943–2003. Brussels: Peter Lang, 2005. Bossuat, Gérard. La France et la construction de l’unité européenne. De 1919 à nos jours. Paris: Armand Colin, 2012. Callaghan, James. Time and Chance. London: Harper Collins, 1987. Catterall, Peter, ed. The Macmillan Diaries. The Cabinet Years, 1950–1957. London: Macmillan, 2003. Daddow, Oliver. Britain and Europe Since 1945. Historiographical Perspectives on Integration. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2004. Grob-Fitzgibbon, Benjamin. Continental Drift. Britain and Europe From the End of Empire to the Rise of Euroscepticism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016. Horne, Alistair. Macmillan. 1891–1956. London: Macmillan, 1988–89.

Rethinking Europe 65 Hurd, Douglas. Choose Your Weapons. The British Foreign Secretary. 200 Years of Argument, Success and Failure. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 2010. Macmillan, Harold. Tides of Fortune. 1945–1955. London: Macmillan, 1969. Milward, Alan S. The United Kingdom and the European Community. Volume 1: The Rise and Fall of a National Strategy 1945–1963. London: Routledge, 2012. Pastor-Castro, Rogelia, and Young, John W., eds. The Paris Embassy. British Ambassadors and Anglo-French Relations 1944–79. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. Spaak, Paul-Henri. Combats inachevés. Tome 2: De l’espoir aux déceptions. Paris: Fayard, 1969. Williams, Andrew J. France, Britain and the United States in the Twentieth Century: Vol.2, 1940–1961. London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2020. Young, Hugo. This Blessed Plot. Britain and Europe From Churchill to Blair. London: Macmillan, 1998.

6 Messina to the Treaty of Rome

The collapse of the EDC project in 1954 after many months of intense debate seemed to leave little hope that the French could continue to play the leading role in Europe. At the same time, many people in Britain still held onto the comforting assumption that the British ideas of Europe would win through. The situation would not remain set in this pattern for long. As new ideas for European integration emerged, the battle for the leadership of Europe was re-engaged. The renewed European debate from 1955 onwards forced the British to reassess their approach. The worsening relations with the Commonwealth, the Suez crisis and its humiliating denouement, and the growing doubts about the validity of the ‘special relationship’ added to the incentives to rethink British policy. In Europe, a new round of disputes and power struggles was kicked off against the background of the same underlying ideological battle between the federal and intergovernmental models that had been going on since 1945. As was by now customary, Britain and France again found themselves on opposing sides. As the decade progressed, the balance between the two old adversaries was altered in significant ways. Shifting Anglo-French fortunes France continued to be looked down on by many observers in London. Ivone Kirkpatrick, the Permanent Under-Secretary at the Foreign Office (1953–57), thought that France was unable and unwilling to move with the times . . . in every field of scientific endeavour, the French are hopelessly behind. Politically they are also living in a bygone age . . . with the passage of time France will be more and more left behind. He recognised that France was still necessary to Britain but thought that Britain could do more than ‘make the best of a bad job.’1 These widely held opinions owed a great deal to the still-fresh memories of France’s defeat in 1940. Oliver DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-6

Messina to the Treaty of Rome 67 Harvey, the British Ambassador (1948–54), reported from Paris that the ‘slaughter of the First World War and the occupation during the Second have broken France’s spirit. There is no reason to think that she would be any more resolute in 1950 than she was in 1939–40.’ Like Kirkpatrick, he thought that the ‘only thing to do is to go on nursing and encouraging and fortifying.’2 France’s rapidly improving economic performance was accorded less weight. Indeed, most reports from the British Embassy continued to emphasise what diplomats there saw as its chronic weaknesses. In fact, it was Britain that was falling behind. The economies of the Six were fast catching up and seemed likely to overtake Britain by the end of the decade. If sterling was taken as a measure of Britain’s situation, the picture was even more worrying given the series of post-war devaluations. Trade figures were no more reassuring as British exporters lost out to their foreign competitors. The unfavourable comparisons made with the rapid growth of trade between the Six were clear to see. As important as these economic statistics was the psychological impact that Britain’s relative decline was having both in Britain and internationally. A sense of national malaise, which had for so long been accredited to the French, now began to be felt in Britain. The country’s poor economic performance and recurrent financial crises were a severe handicap on Britain’s foreign policies. The Government in London, however, was slow to adapt to its changing international circumstances, slow to fully appreciate what the Six were doing and how fast they were doing it. Their sense of superiority over the other Europeans was deeply embedded. Holding onto an outdated image of both their own country and others, they consistently over-estimated the strength of the hand they were playing while underestimating those of their partners, allies and adversaries. This bias had a direct impact on their international dealings, especially those with the other Europeans. Unwilling or unable to take a more positive approach to European developments, and uncertain of their tactics, the British fell back on defensive positions. Their policies became essentially reactive leaving it to others in Europe to set the agenda. Confidence in their ability to act decisively and effectively on the international stage was seriously shaken by the 1956 Suez crisis. Suez The Suez expedition had initially drawn the British and French closer, but it was finally to drive them further apart. In the following years, as each reacted in its own way to this debacle, their paths increasingly diverged. The British simply wanted to put Suez behind them as soon as possible, reconnect with the United States and repair their ‘special relationship.’ The French interpretation was that the United States had deliberately undermined British and French policies and positions in the Middle East and could no longer be relied on. Nor could the British who, in French eyes, had been all too quick in giving way to American pressure. The conclusion in Paris was that henceforth France needed to strengthen

68  Messina to the Treaty of Rome the European arm of its foreign policy, in particular that it was necessary to reinforce its links with West Germany. Coincidentally, it was while Guy Mollet, the French Prime Minister, was meeting Adenauer that Eden telephoned him to say that Britain was calling off the military expedition. Adenauer comforted Mollet by saying ‘Europe will be your revenge.’ The crisis of confidence in the American alliance and their bitter resentment at the way Washington had acted over Suez encouraged the French to support the renewed moves towards an integrated Europe. De Gaulle, from his exile in Colombey-les-deux-Eglises, took careful note of all these events, drawing his own conclusions. This latest Anglo-French ‘parting of the ways’ led them in opposite directions, particularly in the nuclear field. While Macmillan went to Bermuda in 1957 to meet with Eisenhower and came back with a deal to provide American nuclear missiles for the British deterrent, the French concluded that the way forward was to build a truly independent French force de frappe. American assistance to the British in this field was made possible by the repeal of the 1946 McMahon Act that had previously blocked the export of American nuclear technology. A provision was now added that allowed aid to be given to those countries that already possessed a high degree of nuclear autonomy. This distinction was clearly designed to include Britain but to exclude other allies, primarily the French. Such discrimination was recognised for what it was in Paris. The French rightly interpreted the renewed British focus on their relationship with Washington as an effort to hold onto a privileged position in NATO at the Americans’ right hand, a position that kept France in an inferior position in the trans-Atlantic hierarchy. This bid to outdo the French added to French resentment of the ‘Anglo-Saxons’’ ‘special relationship.’ Relaunching European integration After the French failure to progress with its projects for European integration in 1954, a renewed impetus now came from Belgium and the Netherlands. This was to lead directly to the start of the EEC in 1958. The first initiatives to go beyond the ECSC came in December 1954 when the Dutch Foreign Minister, Willem Beyen, proposed setting up a reinforced supranational structure covering all economic sectors. Events then moved ahead quickly. A conference was held at Messina in Italy in June 1955. This in turn convened a committee under the chairmanship of Spaak which reported the following April. The discussions among the Six continued at conferences in Venice in May and Brussels in June. A meeting between Adenauer and Mollet in November reached an agreement on their outstanding differences opening the way for the signature of the Treaty of Rome in March 1957. This set out a programme for the abolition of all custom duties and other trade barriers with the creation of a common market, setting up a customs union with a common external tariff on imports from outside the Six, and the free movement of goods, people and capital between the member

Messina to the Treaty of Rome 69 states. Social policies were to be harmonised and a common agricultural policy was to be introduced. A European Commission, Assembly and Court of Justice were created. The British had provided no input and had neither influenced nor welcomed the terms of the final agreement signed in Rome. In fact, throughout these months of intense negotiations during which European integration had rapidly progressed, the Six had consciously turned away from the previous British-sponsored intergovernmental approach that was limited to efforts to liberalise trade. By the mid1950s, many in the Six were becoming frustrated at the very slow pace and limited scope of reforms being introduced in the existing European institutions and they now began to blame the British for this. The conclusion was that a new approach was required and that new institutions needed to be put in place. For the British, this sudden acceleration by the Six was a worrying development. France had necessarily been part of these developments to relaunch European integration but had not been the driving force behind them. Indeed, it had acted more as a brake. Many in France remained deeply reticent, all the more so as these initiatives were coming from outside France. France’s participation was uncertain, and when the Treaty of Rome was signed, it was far from sure that it would be able to accept all of the Treaty’s conditions. There were numerous French concerns. French companies worried that the single market would open up their domestic market to a degree of competition that they were ill-equipped to face. The comparatively high French welfare costs risked adding to their competitive disadvantage. It was unlikely that the other EEC members would agree to increase their standards to French levels and lowering those in France would have been politically dangerous for the government in Paris. France’s colonies were another issue where France did not see eye to eye with its European partners. France wanted to maintain its existing trade relations with its colonies and to allow them to have access to the wider market of the Six. They also wanted to receive European financial assistance for investment in these colonies. France was uncomfortable with some of the supranational elements of the proposed community but was altogether happier with the parallel proposition to create a European atomic body, the future Euratom. Most importantly of all, the French negotiators made their acceptance of the treaty conditional on the inclusion of a common agricultural policy. If France was to open up its industrial markets to competition from the others, then France must be accorded equivalent advantages in the agricultural sector. This French obsession with an agricultural agreement remained central to France’s European policies thereafter. The French were successful in negotiating terms that satisfied most of their demands. There was agreement on agriculture, although the details had still to be finalised, and there was a favourable arrangement for the French colonies. The French policy of controlling the growing strength of Germany and placing it within the confines of a European authority was reinforced. Despite their misgivings, the French increasingly saw that leadership of the EEC offered a

70  Messina to the Treaty of Rome valuable alternative to the imperial role that was slipping away from them. The strength of the French negotiating position in the Six was due to the crucial fact that Europe could not be built without them. Germany was another vital element but, unlike France, it could not convincingly threaten to stand aside, at least not with a Government in Bonn that was determined to keep it firmly inside the Western Alliance. French threats to walk away from the whole project, and therefore to bring it to a halt, was always a more realistic prospect, one that the other Europeans had to take into consideration. This meant that they would have to accept many of the French conditions if they wanted to progress with their plans for an integrated Europe. Any European structure built without France was a non-starter. As the Six had shown, this was entirely conceivable without the British. This difference in the two countries’ positions was decisive in determining the outcome of this and later struggles between them. British concerns There was nothing in the Messina initiative to attract the British, but they could not afford to simply ignore what was happening on the Continent. As with the Schuman Plan, they had been invited to take part in the talks. On this occasion, they chose to send an observer, but, when it became obvious that the Six were heading towards an agreement that was so contrary to the British notion of Europe, the decision was taken to withdraw from even that minimal participation. Britain’s recurrent European dilemma re-emerged in an even more troubling way. How could they refuse the integrationist projects without avoiding their exclusion from Europe both commercially, with something akin to the Continental Blockade of the Napoleonic era, and politically? Britain’s position was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and they had to come up with an alternative strategy to respond to this rapidly changing European context. The leading actor in British foreign policy at this time was Anthony Eden, first as Foreign Secretary (1951–55) and then as Prime Minister (1955–57). His attitude towards Europe, like that of most officials and most people in the country, was at best lukewarm. The idea of joining a European federation, he said, was ‘something which we know, in our bones, we cannot do . . . Britain’s story and her interest lie beyond the continent of Europe. Our thoughts move across the seas.’3 In many ways, he was simply bored by the European questions being discussed. He certainly had no interest in the sort of supranational structures being prepared by the Six. The Europe he liked was ‘a Europe of states and statesmen,’4 not the one proposed by Schuman, Monnet or Spaak. Despite the growing disparity between the British approach to Europe and the direction being taken by the Six, the British aim of leading Europe was not abandoned. However, this would only be considered so long as it did not mean giving up their ties to the Commonwealth. There was little recognition in Britain that this attachment to the Commonwealth might need to be reconsidered if their hopes

Messina to the Treaty of Rome 71 of European leadership were to stand any real chance of success. The belief that Britain remained a global power, and that it was more powerful than the other Europeans, still underlay much of British thinking towards Europe. The British continued to view the world, and Britain’s place within it, through the lens of Churchill’s ‘three circles.’ Stressing Britain’s particular characteristics at the head of the Commonwealth and as a global player set it apart from the continental Europeans. It was also part of Britain’s ongoing sense of its superiority. The British Government still saw no need to choose between any of Churchill’s three circles. If they ever had to it was most unlikely that they would come down in favour of Europe. In October 1956, Macmillan, now Chancellor of the Exchequer, stated categorically that ‘in a choice between imperial preference and a European Customs union, we could not hesitate. We must choose the Commonwealth.’5 Britain’s ability to import cheap food from outside Europe, mainly from the Commonwealth, and to enjoy privileged access there for its exports was valued highly by British decision-makers. Giving these up in order to gain the same benefits from a new relationship with the Six was considered unrealistic. The imperialist wing of the Conservative Party was strongly opposed to any further deepening of Britain’s relationship with the Continent, arguing instead for a reinforcement of the Commonwealth trading system. Although there were already clear signs that the Commonwealth was becoming less advantageous to Britain, and that the ties binding its members together were gradually loosening, it was still Britain’s most important trading partner. Sentimental attachment to the Commonwealth also remained strong throughout the country. By insisting on this Commonwealth priority, the Government in London effectively ruled out British membership of any future European grouping such as the one then being prepared by the Six that included a customs union and a common agricultural policy. Contrary to the Six, British leaders continued to see the intergovernmental forms of Europe such as the OEEC and WEU as the best way forward. The British were also still thinking in terms of a wider Europe rather than the ‘little Europe’ of the Six. They clung to the hope that they might be able to lead Europe along this path and use the OEEC as a means of countering the moves towards the EEC. In fact, as the gap between the British and the Six grew wider, the possibilities for British leadership were diminishing. The major policy differences and the gulf between the ways in which they were looking at Europe in economic and political terms convinced Gladwyn Jebb, the British Ambassador in Paris (1954–60), that the Continental Europeans and the British were now ‘talking in a different language.’6 Reactions to the Messina initiative The initial British response to the Beyen Plan was to belittle it. ‘The Treaty has no chance of being concluded,’ Russel Bretherton, the British representative in the Messina talks, told the other delegates. ‘If it is concluded,’ he continued,

72  Messina to the Treaty of Rome ‘it has no chance of being ratified; and if it is ratified, it has no chance of being applied.’7 The Chancellor, R.A. Butler, dismissed the Messina talks as some ‘archaeological excavations’ and as ‘an attempt to dig up discredited ideas like federalism, not laying the foundations for Europe’s future.’8 Many in Britain simply did not believe that the French would be capable of such a major step towards European integration, that their economy would not be able to support the strains this would involve and that they lacked the necessary political will. Macmillan thought that they would be too afraid of facing West Germany alone without Britain as a member of the European group. He also identified strong opposition to the Common Market among German industrialists and economists. The opinions of many in France suggested that there were some grounds for his arguments. British expectations that the discussions among the Six in Messina would lead nowhere meant that there was no immediate discussion of them in the Cabinet. There was no immediate appreciation in London of what the Six were doing. The hope was that their Messina initiative would go the same way as the EDC. In fact, it was the British plans that ended up being thrown out. The confident belief that the Six would get nowhere in their talks gradually gave way to the realisation that should they successfully construct an economic and political Europe along the lines agreed at Messina this would pose a serious challenge to Britain’s economic interests and to the political leadership which they had come to regard as naturally theirs. These fears were founded on several different elements. The first was ideological, that the sort of Europe envisaged by the Six would undermine the liberal economic principles that underpinned the post-war international order. The immediate impact would be to harm British exporters to the European market creating, in Macmillan’s words, ‘a high-tariff group .  .  . inward-looking and self-sufficient.’9 The President of the Board of Trade, Peter Thorneycroft, warned of ‘the gravity of the dangerous situation which is rapidly developing.’ He forecast that British ‘businessmen would be ousted from the European markets. . . . They would look to us to fight their case – to break the discrimination or to discriminate back.’10 In 1957, his successor, David Eccles, dramatically argued that Britain had twice in one lifetime gone to war to oppose the formation of the sort of ‘hostile bloc across the channel’11 that was now coming into existence. A year later, he was still fuming against the ‘Little Europe’ that was ‘carrying on an economic war against us.’12 British Ministers complained that, in going against the liberal precepts of the post-war international order, the EEC risked undermining not only the basis for harmonious international trade but also the political unity of the West. If it went ahead without a corresponding free trade area, the political repercussions, Macmillan predicted, would be catastrophic, resulting perhaps even in the collapse of NATO. The second, equally worrying, concern related to the impact on Britain’s strategic position in Europe. This went back to many of the deeply rooted British fears of seeing Europe being dominated by either France or Germany. Memories of Louis XIV, Napoleon, the Kaiser and Hitler resurfaced. British suspicions of

Messina to the Treaty of Rome  73 French motives remained strong and it was all too easy for them to see the work of the Six as a French scheme to create, and lead, a Europe that was specifically designed to exclude and weaken Britain. On the French side, there was similar scepticism about the motivations behind the British counterproposals to the Messina initiative. There were good grounds for all of these accusations. Controlling Germany, and tying it firmly into the Western Alliance, was an aim that was shared by Britain, France and the United States. France had chosen to achieve this via the European structures set out in the Schuman Plan and the Treaty of Rome. For the moment, the French felt sufficiently confident in their ability to maintain their dominant position in the Franco-German relationship and to keep West Germany in their tow, even if their underlying fears of a revived, and possibly re-united, Germany never disappeared. Many in Britain feared that these European structures, rather than serving to contain Germany, would instead provide an opportunity for German hegemony. This fear was a constant factor in British thinking towards Europe after 1945. When it had been a question of West Germany joining the Council of Europe, Bevin’s dislike of the Germans was obvious. Bevin’s ‘anger and distrust of the Germans’ was, according to his biographer, ‘an instinct he never shook off. ‘I tried ’ard, but I ‘ates them,’ he explained.’13 Macmillan’s views were less bluntly made but were much the same. A ‘federal Europe without Britain,’ he wrote in 1950: hands Europe on a plate to Germany, and destroys in a day the fruits of our hard-won victory in two wars. It incidentally abandons the policy for which we have stood since the Armada, against Spain, France, and Germany successively.14 Macmillan’s diary entries at this time were replete with such references. In 1951, looking ten years into the future, he gloomily foresaw the emergence of ‘a European Community which could dominate Europe and would be roughly equal to Hitler’s Europe of 1940.’15 Beyond these fears of an immediate Frenchdominated Europe and a future German hegemony was the nightmare vision of Britain being excluded from Europe by a revived Carolingian empire and simultaneously losing its role in the Commonwealth and its ‘special relationship’ with the United States. In this scenario, Britain risked being bypassed as the Six took over Britain’s position as the United States’ privileged partner in Europe, leaving Britain internationally adrift. Ultimately, it might well mean that Britain would have no alternative but to enter a Europe designed by the Six along lines that were highly unfavourable to British interests. Sabotage and suspicions The expectation that the Six would fail in their collective efforts, and in particular that the French Assembly might reject the terms of the future Treaty of

74  Messina to the Treaty of Rome Rome in the same way as they had those of the EDC, allowed the British to hope that they might find a way out of their uncomfortable situation. At the same time, their thoughts turned towards how they should react if the Six continued to advance in their integrationist endeavours. Macmillan, when asked in 1957 whether he had plans for Britain to enter the EEC, replied, ‘I will either lead Britain into Europe or fight Europe. So much depends on the French.’16 Officials talked of killing the Messina project, others of absorbing the EEC in a wider, more nebulous, group or destroying it altogether. Gladwyn thought the British policy towards the Messina initiative should be to ‘embrace (it) destructively.’17 In London, the talk was of finding ways to ‘spike the Messina guns’ and of ‘administering a coup de grâce to the Messina proposals.’18 Direct warnings to the Six were given in strong language. If they went ahead with their schemes, London told them, they risked endangering the unity of the Western Alliance while the economic division of Europe would damage all of them as much as it would damage Britain and be welcome only to the Soviet Union. British arguments that there was no need to give up on the OEEC and that it was still functioning adequately failed to convince the leaders of the Six. Most of them had already concluded that the British model had shown itself to be inadequate, that its time had gone and that they needed to move on to other, more ambitious, forms of European integration. British efforts at persuasion were backed up by threats to each of the Six in turn in an attempt to convince them either to abandon their project or to allow it to be re-directed along other less supranational lines. Britain’s high-handed attitude only served to deepen their suspicions about British motives, including some among the usually pro-British leaderships of Belgium and the Netherlands. Even Anglophiles like Spaak expressed their anger at the British efforts to obstruct their work. Spaak now concluded that Britain had gone beyond a position of ‘sceptical neutrality’ and had become an ‘adversary’ with a ‘clearly stated hostility.’ If Britain succeeded in ‘sinking our grand projects, forcing us to accept the fait accompli of a negative policy,’ he wrote, the consequences would be ‘disastrous from all points of view.’19 The efforts of Spaak and Beyen to reach a compromise with the British during visits to London in November 1955 failed to bring the two sides any closer. The Dutch and Belgians came away convinced that the British were looking at best to delay the Six or at worst to torpedo their plans. British requests to Spaak that he slow down his committee’s work to prepare the future Treaty of Rome were flatly refused. For various reasons, all of the Six wanted to conclude their negotiations as quickly as possible. British efforts to hold them back ended up being counterproductive, serving only to reinforce the determination of the Six to move ahead. Alternative plans British attempts at persuasion came to nothing, and as their threats only seemed to serve to reinforce the cohesion of the Six, a different approach was required.

Messina to the Treaty of Rome 75 The Government in London now tried to come up with alternative plans either that would significantly water down the Messina initiative or that would convince the whole of Europe, and not just the Six, to accept an entirely different conception of its future. The preparatory work on alternative proposals was undertaken somewhat laboriously. When they were finally put forward it was too late to convince the Six that they should abandon what they had already achieved among themselves. The proposals were also made without any significant rethinking of the basic tenets of British foreign policy with regard to Europe, the Commonwealth and the United States. The British remained unwilling to envisage significantly new ideas or adopt new attitudes. They were still a long way from accepting that major concessions and a more constructive approach would be needed in order to hold out any hopes of regaining the leading position in Europe that was drifting away from them. The first British counterproposal, the so-called ‘Plan G,’ was put forward in 1956. It was unfortunate that work on this coincided with the Suez crisis which monopolised the Government’s time. In fact, there was never much enthusiasm for this plan in the Government, in the Conservative Party or in the country at large. There was little likelihood that this plan, which excluded agriculture and would have allowed Britain to continue to import tariff-free and cheap food from outside Europe, would be acceptable to the Six. For the French, it was out of the question that British businesses should be allowed to hold onto such a competitive advantage without Britain giving the Six something in return beyond a free-trade agreement in industrial goods. The British would have had the added benefit of avoiding the costs of harmonising social policies that the French wished to see applied as part of the future EEC. For the French, the inclusion of a tariff-free internal market and a common external tariff on imports from outside, including on agricultural produce, was a sine qua non and it was only on condition that the future EEC provide an outlet for French farm exports that they were prepared to accept opening up their markets for industrial goods to the more competitive producers elsewhere in the Six. This deal lay at the heart of the agreement reached in the Treaty of Rome and was to remain a key part of the EEC/EU. Britain’s determination, in Macmillan’s words, that ‘we must be satisfied before entering a Free Trade Area in Europe that agricultural goods are excluded’20 was the exact opposite of the French approach. The Six, led by the French and with the support of by the recently created EEC Commission, replied that the British were looking to have the best of both worlds: access to the European market for manufactured goods while holding onto the benefits of the Commonwealth in agricultural trade, and without making any concessions to the Six in either field. Given that the Spaak Committee report had already reached an agreement on removing all tariffs on agricultural trade between the Six, Britain was seriously overplaying its hand. Despite this setback, the British did not give up the fight, and in 1957, the Foreign Secretary, Selwyn Lloyd, put forward his so-called ‘grand design’ including

76  Messina to the Treaty of Rome the same project for a broad free trade area in industrial goods, but not agricultural produce, and a proposal to rationalise the existing European institutions with the creation of a single European assembly to cover all their activities. This vague plan was quickly rejected by the Six. Some of them regarded it as nothing more than a means to derail what they were on the point of achieving. The most far-reaching, and potentially most convincing, British counterproposal was the Free Trade Area (FTA) plan. Work on this began soon after the end of the Suez crisis in the autumn of 1956. By this time, it was clear that the talks between the Six had gone beyond the point at which they could simply be blocked by the British. Attention in London now turned to how the future EEC might be incorporated within a wider free-trade zone covering all eighteen countries of the OEEC. It was hoped that this policy of containment and accommodation would allow Britain to avoid discrimination against its exports to the EEC, maintain the liberal economic outlook of Europe as a whole within a global approach focusing on the GATT and, importantly, allow Britain to preserve its trading advantages with the Commonwealth. Although this constituted a more constructive approach it left many of the problems unresolved, notably the question of agriculture. By the time the plan was presented at the beginning of 1957, only weeks before the Treaty of Rome was signed, the battle was almost over. On the verge of finalising the terms of their new European Community, and after two years of intense negotiations, the Six were unwilling to see all their efforts scuppered by the British counterproposals. This, however, was not the immediate outcome and for several months it appeared that the two sides might be able to reach a compromise, even that the British might convince the Six to agree to many of their demands. An OEEC committee was set up in October 1957, chaired by the British Cabinet Minister Reginald Maudling, with a brief to establish a European Free Trade Area which would encompass both the EEC and the other OEEC members and which would come into force at the same time as the EEC in January 1958. This objective suited the British very well but the negotiations on its implementation soon proved extremely difficult as the committee became an arena for another Anglo-French confrontation. French reactions to the ideas being put forward by the British were entirely unfavourable. For them, the wider FTA risked removing the substance of what had been agreed between the Six. If the British plan was agreed to, it would dissolve the emerging EEC ‘like a lump of sugar in an English cup of tea.’21 The French were prepared, with certain reservations, to open up their markets within the confines of the EEC but not to a wider and more threatening foreign competition in the FTA. Britain, they reasonably concluded, would win all round, on agriculture and industry. Where the British saw the new Europe as a French-led movement aiming to create a protectionist bloc akin to a ‘fortress Europe’, the French saw a British ‘free trade offensive’ as an attempt to sabotage the Treaty of Rome,

Messina to the Treaty of Rome 77 The British sensed that the tide was turning against them and that, if they were to succeed, they needed to force through an agreement as quickly as possible. Their hopes of injecting greater momentum into the committee’s work were blocked by French delaying tactics. The numerous outstanding issues made this easy. First among them were the recurrent questions of agriculture and the common external tariff. Other technical issues concerning the harmonisation of social and economic policies, import controls and the application of specific tariffs gave the French plenty of opportunities to slow down the committee’s work. The two sides were as far apart as ever with neither prepared to make major concessions. The French were determined to hold onto the advantages they had won in the talks with the other future members of the EEC and felt strong enough to resist calls for them to give way. Proposals and counterproposals were sent back and forth without coming close to breaking the deadlock. The talks were soon bogged down. Without sufficient political will on both sides, it was impossible to overcome all these obstacles. British threats of retaliation against the Six if no agreement was reached were to no avail. The committee’s work dragged on for a year before being abruptly ended by the first of de Gaulle’s vetoes. Coalition building and shifting allegiances The ability to win over allies was once again a decisive factor in the FrancoBritish confrontation that was being played out. This outcome was a close-run thing but the overall advantage on this occasion lay with the French, starting with their relationship with West Germany. Franco-German relations had been improving for some time as those between Britain and Germany remained tense. French opinion, however, remained divided over the advantages of a rapprochement with their recent enemy and Franco-German friendship did not run deep. Concerns about Germany’s strength as its economic performance outstripped that of all the other Europeans, and the desire to avoid a complete breakdown of relations with the British continued to influence French policy. French Governments may have been increasingly inclined to look to West Germany as their first European partner but hesitations about the Franco-German relationship remained. Nor had the British connection been entirely abandoned. British attitudes towards the Germans showed the same mixture of deep mistrust and hope that they might be mobilised as allies. In 1957, Macmillan noted that the Germans seemed to be reacting favourably to the British FTA proposals and that Adenauer was keen to have Britain as part of a united Europe. The British relationship with Germany, however, was poorly managed. Putting pressure on the Government in Bonn, including threats to reduce Britain’s defence commitments on the Continent, had a particularly negative effect on Adenauer whose opinions of the British, which had never been entirely positive, deteriorated over the course of the 1950s. Britain did, nonetheless, enjoy support from some quarters in West Germany. The

78  Messina to the Treaty of Rome Minister of Finance, Ludwig Erhard, gave his full support for the FTA, although he was ultimately overruled by Adenauer. The British also looked to the other Europeans for support. In particular, the Dutch were always thought of as Britain’s natural allies. The British took it for granted that they would continue in this role. There had been considerable sympathy among the Dutch leadership for the FTA plan which seemed to reflect not only the two countries’ shared commercial values but also some points of discord. Dutch agriculture, for example, stood to gain significantly from the CAP which the British were so reluctant to accept. Others in the Netherlands had for many years expressed their disapproval of Britain’s lack of engagement in European initiatives. Britain had less confidence in Belgium which it saw as being torn between allegiance to France and sympathy for Britain. Spaak frequently expressed not only his strong support for the British in Europe but also his frustration with them. In 1956, Macmillan reported Spaak as saying that ‘France was no good’ and Germany ‘more and more aggressive’ and then asking ‘C[oul]d not [the] UK take the lead?’22 Two years later, Macmillan again recorded Spaak’s appeal to the British ‘to take the lead in the creation of a united Europe before it was too late.’23 Despite consistently looking for help among the Benelux countries, the British held them and their leaders in low esteem, more so for Belgium and Luxembourg and with a little more respect shown for the Netherlands. Butler recorded his resentment, even his ‘personal repugnance’ towards Beyen, describing him as a ‘very pushing man’ from a small country who was coming to Britain and ‘always telling you what to do.’24 The British Ambassador to Belgium recognised the support given to Britain but concluded that the Belgians were an ‘unstable amalgam of French and British influences and characteristics.’25 They may prefer British policies to those of France, he said, but this was partly because the French saw them as unimportant provincial cousins. His own views and those of most people in Britain were very similar. More significant than the poor personal relations with the other Europeans was the widening gulf between the two sides in how they saw the future of Europe. Without the basis of an agreement on this essential point, Britain’s hopes of leadership were always going to be curtailed. Roy Jenkins, one of the more pro-European British politicians, recognised this flaw in the British position. The British and the Six, he argued, simply did not share the same ambitions for Europe: In negotiating the EFTA we have been too much concerned with showing the Six that what they rejected is a perfectly workable arrangement . . . but I do not believe that in the last resort the Six rejected the Free Trade Area because they thought it would not work. They rejected it because, whether it worked or not, it was not what they wanted.26 Even though the Treaty of Rome came into force in 1958, the future direction of Europe was still far from certain. The Treaty outlined future developments and

Messina to the Treaty of Rome 79 laid down some significant general principles, notably the idea of ‘ever closer union,’ but it left the future shape and meaning of the Common Market still to be determined. There remained a great deal to play for and all sides, including the British, still saw possibilities of influencing Europe’s future direction. The British had certainly not given up on this but they were soon to be faced with a far more formidable adversary in Paris, and would find themselves fighting on a less advantageous European terrain and with fewer, and weaker, cards in their hand. Although the French had won significant concessions from their partners and had succeeded in creating an EEC along lines that were broadly favourable to their interests, their position was equally unsure. Notes 1 Reproduced in Greenwood, Britain and European Integration, 74. 2 FO 371/89185, 23 February 1950. 3 Horne, Macmillan, 349. 4 Hurd, Weapons, 347–48. 5 The Times, 4 October 1956. 6 PREM 11/1844, 27 April 1957. 7 Quoted in Parsons, Certain Idea, 105. 8 Charlton, Price of Victory, 194–95; Reynolds, Island Stories, 198. 9 Macmillan, Riding the Storm, 75. 10 Quoted in Greenwood, European Integration, 84. 11 Quoted in Denman, Missed Chances, 203. 12 Quoted in Greenwood, European Integration, 99. 13 Hurd, Weapons, 341. 14 Catterall, Cabinet Years, 28. 15 Catterall, Cabinet Years, 121. 16 Quoted in Pagedas, Strategic Relations, 12. 17 Quoted in Horne, Macmillan, 363. 18 Lamb, Macmillan Years, 107. CAB134/1374, 5 March 1956. 19 Spaak, Combats, II, 77, 79. 20 Quoted in Lamb, Macmillan Years, 109. 21 Gerbet, Construction, 239. 22 Catterall, Cabinet Years, 539–40. 23 Macmillan, Riding the Storm, 76. 24 Charlton, Price of Victory, 50. 25 FO 371/168997, June 1963. 26 Quoted in Urwin, Western Europe, 138.

References Catterall, Peter, ed. The Macmillan Diaries. The Cabinet Years, 1950–1957. London: Macmillan, 2003. Charlton, Michael. The Price of Victory. London: BBC, 1983. Denman, Roy. Missed Chances. Britain and Europe in the 20th Century. London: Cassell, 1996.

80  Messina to the Treaty of Rome Gerbet, Pierre. La construction de l’Europe. Paris: Notre siècle, 1994. Greenwood, Sean, ed. Britain and European Integration Since the Second World War. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1996. Horne, Alistair. Macmillan. 1891–1956. London: Macmillan, 1988. Hurd, Douglas. Choose Your Weapons. The British Foreign Secretary. 200 Years of Argument, Success and Failure. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 2010. Lamb, Richard. The Macmillan Years. 1957–1963. The Emerging Truth. London: John Murray, 1995. Macmillan, Harold. Riding the Storm. 1956–1959. London: Macmillan, 1971. Pagedas, Constantine A. Anglo-American Strategic Relations and the French Problem 1960–1963. A Troubled Partnership. London: Frank Cass, 2000. Parsons, Craig. A Certain Idea of Europe. New York: Cornell University Press, 2003. Reynolds, David. Island Stories. Britain and Its History in the Age of Brexit. London: William Collins, 2019. Spaak, Paul-Henri. Combats inachevés. Tome 2: De l’espoir aux déceptions. Paris: Fayard, 1969. Urwin, Derek. Western Europe Since 1945. A Short Political History. London: Longman, 1989.

7 Facing up to de Gaulle

France, de Gaulle wrote, was ‘bound for an eminent and exceptional destiny’ and could ‘only be truly itself when ranked first.’1 Playing second fiddle was unimaginable. Reconciliation with West Germany, begun under the Fourth Republic, was central to his ambitions in Europe, but its role in his plans was as an associate of France, not as a co-leader. The other EEC member states were placed far lower in de Gaulle’s European pecking order. In most French analyses, they have remained there since. Britain, on the other hand, represented a more serious challenge. The British viewed de Gaulle in the same way. Both sides continued to promote their own ideas of Europe and both deliberately and vigorously set out to block those of the other. The Anglo-French conflict in Europe was intensified and the stakes were raised to new heights. With de Gaulle’s return to office in 1958, the storm clouds on the European horizon became ever more threatening for the British. Used to dealing with the weak and unstable governments of the Third and Fourth Republics, they now found themselves faced with a very different adversary, one who was to add greatly to their difficulties over the next ten years. France’s sense of historical mission to lead Europe was picked up and carried forward by de Gaulle with renewed vigour. The combination of a particularly awkward and determined opponent in Paris with the realignment of British foreign policy then being timidly undertaken aggravated the problems facing Britain. This redirection of policy towards a more European stance, itself based on a forced reappraisal of their links with the Commonwealth and the United States, placed the British in an uncomfortably exposed international position, something which de Gaulle was able to exploit. Underlying changes were also working against them. With a stalling economy that compared unfavourably to the post-war economic ‘miracles’ of continental Europe and by attempting to keep all its irons in the fire, to maintain the Commonwealth, the ‘special relationship’ with the United States and play a leading role in Europe, Britain was taking on responsibilities and harbouring ambitions beyond its means. For France, the end of the wars in IndoChina (1954) and Algeria (1962) likewise imposed a significant re-orientation of policy. De Gaulle’s conclusion was that France ‘must turn towards Europe. The DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-7

82  Facing up to de Gaulle colonial era is giving way to the era of organised continents.’2 The more Eurocentric perspective of France contrasted with Britain’s increasingly untenable global aspirations. Spreading their thin resources across the board weakened their hand in the conflict with the French which became more than ever the dominant feature of their European policy from 1958 onwards. France had already laid claim to the leadership of Europe in 1950, and although it had often lacked the economic and political strength to back this up, it had nonetheless succeeded in placing itself at the head of the European movement. France had launched the ECSC and, unsuccessfully, the EDC. It had not initiated the EEC but it had nonetheless assumed a central position within it. Given Britain’s self-imposed absence, and West Germany’s disinclination to take the lead, France took this on almost by default. The ongoing British efforts to counter de Gaulle by refashioning Europe according to their own designs had to be made from a disadvantageous position outside the EEC. Above all, de Gaulle now represented an impressive and unavoidable obstacle to British ambitions. As the battle between Britain and France entered this decisive phase, it became an increasingly personal one. Deciphering, (mis)interpreting and dealing with de Gaulle Numerous attempts were made in Britain to understand the new French leader. The conclusions they reached veered between a grudging recognition of his strong personality and some very unflattering portrayals of his character. The vast number of reports and analyses dedicated to him by British diplomats were littered with condemnations of his ‘outrageous behaviour,’ the ‘idiosyncrasy’ of his ‘negative, old-fashioned and egocentric views,’ his ‘obstinacy,’ ‘pride and vindictiveness,’ and his ‘dictatorial’ and ‘devious’3 methods. Some of them played down his significance in world affairs. He was at times respected, even admired, and at others ridiculed. He was accused of playing a role on the international scene beyond the capacity of his country as ‘a comic figure, an Emperor unaware that he is parading without clothes.’4 At its most extreme such denigration went so far as to question his mental state. In 1969, the Foreign Secretary, Michael Stewart, wrote of his ‘irrational prejudice’5 while the Paris Embassy relayed French reports that he had ‘gone beyond reason’ and ‘become a little mad.’6 Some in London believed that he was suffering from ‘megalomania.’7 Above all, the British, like many others, found it hard to fully understand de Gaulle. His conduct of foreign policy added to these difficulties. His public and private statements were often made in brutally simple terms yet the message was not always clear to those he was addressing. Muddying the waters was an essential part of his diplomacy. At times, he intentionally set out to mislead, or disguise his intentions, deliberately creating difficulties for his adversaries and his allies to understand him. Gladwyn simply concluded that he was ‘a cunning old dog.’ Others who interacted with him thought that his characteristically

Facing up to de Gaulle  83 elliptical way of talking was a ploy and that he deliberately ‘inculcated a religion of secrecy’ in those around him. He has rightly been described as ‘a master of the arts of equivocation and mystification (and) of politico-linguistic ambiguity.’8 For Pierson Dixon, Gladwyn’s successor in Paris, dealing with de Gaulle, was complicated by the fact that he frequently says not what he thinks but what it suits him for the other person to believe or what he wishes him to repeat. (He assumes that everything he says to anyone is going to be repeated. The inmost secrets he keeps for himself.) He is not in the least worried by saying different things to different people. . . . To put it bluntly he often does not tell the truth. . . . But in his presence, it is almost impossible to remember that he may be trying to deceive one. . . . He often mixes startling frankness with his calculated deception.9 It was not surprising, therefore, that Macmillan ‘found it difficult to fathom the character of this strange and enigmatic man.’10 Anticipating his policies beforehand, or even decoding them once they had been unleashed, was hard work for those who had to deal with him. British efforts to decipher de Gaulle often pointed to his historically based, and in their view outdated, attitudes. Numerous comparisons were made between de Gaulle, Louis XIV, Richelieu and Napoleon III. Alexander the Great, Napoleon and Bismarck were reported to be his heroes. British cartoonists liked to portray him in different guises including Charlemagne, Julius Caesar, the Kaiser, a somewhat deranged Joan of Arc, and even Hitler. They would sometimes reverse these historic roles and show the British meeting their Waterloo or being burnt at the stake by an impenitent de Gaulle. Having previously criticised the instability of the Fourth Republic, the new French regime and its leader were now accused of semi-dictatorial tendencies. In 1969, the Paris Embassy warned of ‘the growth of fascistic tendencies among Gaullists.’11 However, the belief in a weak and unstable France that could be taken by the hand or simply ridiculed was no longer an adequate basis for the formulation of British policy. Reports from Dixon that de Gaulle’s career was ‘on the downward curve’12 were wishful thinking and a reflection of the ongoing British tendency to underestimate France. The result was that the British were left unsure as to how to get to grips with the French leader and his diplomatic thunderbolts. Communications between the British and French had frequently been difficult. They became even more so with de Gaulle. Macmillan, with whom he had numerous meetings, was sometimes at a loss to understand him. Their exchanges were often exercises in incomprehension. Macmillan recorded that de Gaulle ‘does not apparently listen to argument. . . . Not only is he not convinced, he actually does not listen.’13 The two sides were not on the same wavelength, their respective ways of viewing the world so distinct that they had problems fully comprehending each other’s position. Geoffroy de Courcel, the French

84  Facing up to de Gaulle Ambassador in London (1962–72), wrote after a meeting at the Foreign Office in 1965 that he was ‘struck in the course of this exchange of views to notice how much we were speaking a different language and the almost total absence of any real dialogue.’14 Such a negative assessment, from someone whose business it was to facilitate communication between the two countries, sums up the inherent difficulty in Anglo-French relations. Macmillan’s attempts to speak without interpreters may have added to the intimacy of his talks with de Gaulle but did not help their mutual understanding. Anglo-French discussions often went around in circles: the British promising that once inside the EEC they would loosen their ties with the Americans and de Gaulle insisting that the American connection must be downgraded as a necessary precondition before allowing them in. As Macmillan helplessly concluded, this resembled the story of the chicken and the egg. Anglo-French misunderstandings fed off the deeply ingrained suspicion between the two countries and their leaders. Wilson noted after one meeting with de Gaulle that it ‘had taken place in an atmosphere of complete trust’15 but nothing was further from the truth. Both sides complained of the other’s bad faith: the French of British ‘propaganda’ and ‘manoeuvres,’ the British of French ‘lies and misrepresentations.’16 The two occasions when the British and French came closest to reaching some agreement, the Macmillan – de Gaulle summit meetings of June and December 1962 and the Soames – de Gaulle meeting in 1969, ended in bitter recriminations. The sick man of Europe versus the strong man of France The balance of power in the Anglo-French relationship, which had for so long been in Britain’s favour, was now moving in the other direction. Having been on the receiving end of a good deal of British condescension for so long, this reversal of fortunes was warmly welcomed in France, not least by de Gaulle. Britain and France now found themselves in quite different situations. For the British, the French were both the problem and an essential part of the solution. Britain had no choice but to focus on France, and that meant focusing on de Gaulle. He guarded the door to Europe, and if Britain was to gain entry, it would have to win his assent. Any idea of simply bypassing him was never realistic. In the other direction, the British could be a thorn in the French side but they did not pose the same sort of problem. A closer relationship with Britain may have offered some advantages, by giving French exporters easier access to British markets, opening up the possibility of a transfer of British nuclear know-how and strengthening the European bloc, but there was never an absolute need for this. The inescapable weakness of the British position was that neither France nor the Six as a whole needed Britain as much as Britain needed them. Exclusion from the EEC was economically and politically damaging to Britain, it was never a serious problem for the Six. Indeed, many on the Continent felt that the damage would come if and when Britain entered. Whatever gloss British leaders tried to put on

Facing up to de Gaulle 85 it, the reality was that it was Britain that was cut off from the Continent, not the Continent from Britain. As the French, and eventually most people in Britain, recognised, Britain had little alternative but to enter the EEC. Herein lay the fundamental British weakness and the French strength: Britain, paying the price for its earlier refusal to join the European bandwagon, was outside and wanted to get in while France was inside, barring the route and determined to exert a high price before giving way. Britain was now the supplicant attempting to enter a group whose broad lines had already been laid down. The British hoped that they would be able to negotiate modifications to the existing rules of the European club, or at least have an extended transition period during which they would have time to adapt, but it was clear from the outset that the Six would not accept a radical alteration of the structures that they had recently, and with great difficulty, put in place. From the British perspective, this situation was likely to worsen over time as their economy continued to lag behind and as the European building work of the Six progressed without them. Arguing that Britain needed to enter the EEC to boost its flagging economy and revive its national spirit did not strengthen the British bargaining position. Instead, it only served to reinforce the nation’s sense of malaise and further undermine its faltering international reputation. France, on the other hand, was growing in confidence. This was reflected in its more combative style of diplomacy as the complexes of the Fourth Republic, with its weak and transitory Governments, were thrown off. De Gaulle was determined to equal and then overtake Britain in as many fields as possible, from the economy, and new technologies to sports. ‘It’s good that France should do better than the English,’ he said in July 1962. We have been in second place behind them, and even lower than that, for so long. It must now be made clear to everyone that we are doing better than them. France must be the first in Europe. Only by achieving that can she show others the way ahead.17 The first step was the establishment of a sound domestic base for France’s international ambitions. Significant progress was made on this front. The restructuring of French finances stabilised the franc while structural reforms helped the economy to grow at rates that outstripped those of Britain. France’s new regime, which gave the President almost unlimited powers to direct foreign and defence policies, placed de Gaulle in an enviable position compared to other Western leaders. With a majority in Parliament, surrounded by loyal supporters in the key government and administrative posts, backed up by a state apparatus that controlled much of the media, he was considered by Dixon to be a ‘potentate.’18 After his first months in office, when both he and his regime had at times seemed close to being overthrown, de Gaulle enjoyed an almost unassailable position. The personal power he exercised within the new French regime, and the authority

86  Facing up to de Gaulle that resulted from his historic legitimacy as the saviour of France in 1940, stood in stark contrast to the more contested and fragile positions of his rival leaders, especially those in London. By 1962, he had laid the foundations of the Fifth Republic, resolved the Algerian crisis, established a close relationship with West Germany and presided over a remarkable improvement in France’s economic and financial situation. France was well placed to achieve his goal of overtaking Britain whose fortunes seemed to be moving in the opposite direction, sliding inexorably down the international league table to the point of becoming the ‘sick man of Europe.’ Macmillan ended his term in office in 1963 in despondent mood. Wilson’s public optimism and his calls on Britain to embrace the ‘white heat of technology’ as part of a programme of national renewal failed to achieve the desired results. In private, he compared Britain to ‘a fading beauty’ and the EEC to a ‘go-ahead young man with very good prospects.’19 The national mood, as suggested by several opinion polls, displayed the same concerns about the state of the nation. Fighting with allies The feeling in the 1960s that Britain and France were carrying on their ancestral confrontations in a new form was not lost on the actors themselves or on contemporary observers. The lessons drawn from history in the two countries were, of course, selective, but, on one point, they were agreed: victory would go to whoever had the greater support from third parties while isolation was sure to mean defeat. If the British had lost the American war of independence, it was because of the united opposition from the other European powers, and if Louis XIV’s ambitions had been checked and Napoleon defeated, it was the result of Britain’s ability to build up a broad anti-French coalition. The same factors would be decisive in the 1960s. If de Gaulle, the new ‘Emperor of the French,’20 was to meet his Waterloo, then Britain would need a new Blücher. If de Gaulle was to succeed in establishing his ‘European Europe,’ he too would need to win over the Germans and convince the other Europeans to follow his lead. The outcome would be decided in Brussels, Bonn and the other European capitals as much as in London and Paris. The game of alliances, however, was not always straightforward. Nor were those playing it entirely consistent. De Gaulle, at the same time as promoting the Franco-German entente, assured the British that he would have more trust in them in a crisis than he would have in the Germans. Nor were Adenauer’s private remarks always consistent with his public statements regarding Franco-German friendship or Britain’s entry into the EEC. The British cultivated the support of the Benelux countries and Italy but were simultaneously tempted by a European agreement with the French that would have left them out of the picture. The United States’ attitudes towards Europe varied over time and from one part of the administration to another. As in Washington, various opinions coexisted in the other capitals. Building up and

Facing up to de Gaulle 87 maintaining alliances between different countries, between various ministries and individuals, involving numerous different actors, and addressing a variety of different multi-dimensional issues, on a ground that was constantly moving, were inevitably a complex exercise. It was never expected in London that de Gaulle would welcome Britain into the EEC with open arms but there was always the hope that if they could muster sufficient support elsewhere in Europe they would be able to force him to back down. In particular, the support of the ‘friendly Five’ was thought to be a potential trump card in the British hand. Occasionally it was even suggested that they might break with France and form a new European grouping with Britain as its nucleus. Some reports indicated that there was considerable Anglophile sentiment on the Continent. Others were less hopeful that this sympathy would be sufficient to convince the Five to confront de Gaulle. This led some British diplomats to accuse the ‘Five’ of adopting a policy of appeasement towards France. The very idea of a ‘friendly Five’ was further evidence of Britain’s tendency to overestimate its influence on the Continent. There was also a flaw in this concept. As de Gaulle and others pointed out, Britain’s friends inside the EEC may well have wanted Britain to join them but a Europe à l’anglaise was hardly compatible with the sort of supranational Europe they were working towards. The French had no greater faith in their EEC partners. The Quai d’Orsay noted that ‘it would be dangerous to speculate . . . on the resilience of our partners.’21 De Gaulle recognised that the other members of the EEC were broadly favourable to the British and antipathetic towards France. He thought Belgium had been ‘invented by the English to annoy the French’ and described the Dutch as a ‘satellite’ or ‘protectorate’ of the British, the Trojan Horse of the ‘Anglo-Saxons’ in Europe, who had been the constant adversaries of France from the time of Louis XIV.22 The maritime position and traditions of the Dutch, he argued, placed them in the same half-European position as the British. Couve accused Spaak of being a British spokesman in Europe and the Dutch for having ‘always been the lackeys of the English.’ Luns replied that this was the case ‘in the sense that you could talk of you French as always having been the raw material of their victories.’23 The Europe of the Six, de Gaulle said, was like a joint of beef. The meat was France and Germany with Italy no more than ‘a bit of cress,’ the Benelux an additional ‘bit of sauce.’24 Even some among France’s new-found German allies were accused of being manipulated by London. De Gaulle found all of these supposed European partners ‘unbearable.’25 At times, he contemptuously dismissed them as the ‘poor Germans, the poor Belgians and the poor Dutch.’26 The French frequently complained of the lack of support given to their projects by others in Europe. De Gaulle thought that this was because they were ‘afraid of France . . . afraid that France will lead.’ This, he said, led them to ‘look to the Americans for help . . . to avoid being dominated by us. Yet it’s in the natural order of things that we should be the first in Europe.’ This hadn’t been true under the Fourth Republic as a result of France’s weakness but, he said, ‘it is the case

88  Facing up to de Gaulle now and it will increasingly be so over the coming years.’ The smaller European countries wanted a supranational Europe, he went on, because they wanted to control Europe. They had ‘turned towards England’ when they realised that their supranational plans were impossible. All these are because ‘they’re trying to ensure that France doesn’t lead.’27 Analyses elsewhere in Europe were understandably different. Being relegated to a minor role in a Europe led by France or by a Franco-German tandem was unacceptable in Italy or the Benelux. The Belgians and Dutch in particular remained deeply suspicious of the French efforts to dominate Europe and, as de Gaulle had argued, they saw British membership of the EEC as a useful counterweight. However, for all his distrust of the other Europeans, de Gaulle was sufficiently a realist to recognise that his European ambitions could only succeed if he managed to bring others on board. As was the case for his British rivals, leadership only made sense if others were willing to follow. His disdain for the weaker Europeans, his dismissal of any international grouping which might allow them to combine to play a more significant role and his instinctive opposition to the Americans, and to the British so long as they remained tied to the Americans’ coat tails, convinced him to look across the Rhine for the support he needed. The German prize The decisive role in this search for allies was played by Germany. Britain and France, whose Entente had been founded on opposition to Germany, had become competitors in the race to win her favours. For France, the prize was a strong but subordinate ally, creating a powerful continental bloc that excluded the British. The British focus was on Germany’s place within NATO and on blocking de Gaulle. By the late 1950s, the sympathies of Adenauer lay more with France than with Britain. Flattered by de Gaulle and still resentful at the way the British had treated him at the end of the War, he was unlikely to assist the British cause. Others in Germany, in the business community, in Government and in Parliament, were far more favourably inclined towards Britain and keen to see closer ties with her. De Gaulle’s previous statements, and his reputation as a die-hard French nationalist, meant that, on his return to office in 1958, there were serious concerns in Bonn about the future direction he might take. De Gaulle quickly set out to calm these fears by launching a charm offensive with Adenauer. Their first meeting at de Gaulle’s home in Colombey-les-deux-Eglises in September 1958 was undoubtedly a personal and political success. Adenauer saw the relationship with France as an essential part of his policy of tying his country firmly into the Western Alliance and promoting European integration. He recognised that Germany was not in a position to take on the leadership of Europe given its recent history but he was willing to see France assume this position and place West Germany in a supporting role. Further regular meetings followed reinforcing

Facing up to de Gaulle 89 their personal relationship. None of this augured well for Britain which was, according to one account, ‘the predestined victim of the Colombey entente,’ the point at which ‘Federal Germany replaced Britain as France’s principal partner in foreign affairs.’28 The Franco-German relationship came to be seen, and celebrated, as the backbone of Europe. Yet it was not always entirely harmonious and on numerous issues French and German interests and policies diverged. Adenauer responded badly when, only three days, after their first meeting, de Gaulle launched his proposal for an Anglo-American-French triumvirate in the Western Alliance which, if accepted, would have diminished the West German role. Concerns in Bonn regarding France’s attitude towards German reunification, France’s nuclear strategy, and remarks by the Gaullist Prime Minister Michel Debré that those countries in Europe that did not have a nuclear capacity would be reduced to the role of ‘satellites,’ produced a cooling off in their relations. By 1960, it was being reported that: ‘Behind closed doors Adenauer admitted that he had totally lost confidence in de Gaulle.’29 Important differences remained over the future direction of the EEC, especially over the CAP and the EEC budget, and over the desirability of British membership. Most importantly, the two countries were never able to reconcile their divergent attitudes towards the Atlantic Alliance and the defence of the West, where Germany was on the frontline. The importance of the American and NATO connections, particularly the presence of American and British troops on the Continent, clearly separated the vast majority of West Germans from de Gaulle. The decision to place West Germany at the centre of France’s European plans was not an easy one to make. De Gaulle’s generation, and the following one, had known nothing but Franco-German conflict. Invaded by the Germans three times in seventy years and with the recent history of occupation, collaboration and resistance etched on the collective French memory, the idea of a Paris-Bonn axis left many people in France feeling uncomfortable. De Gaulle himself incarnated French resistance to German aggression, as a soldier in the First World War, as a Cassandra throughout the inter-war years warning of the German danger and, above all, as the hero of 18 June 1940. It was, nonetheless, on the basis of the new-found Franco-German friendship that Europe was to be built and it was from this starting point that de Gaulle set out to re-establish France’s international position. De Gaulle’s awareness of the significance of this rapprochement and the importance of its ceremonial, almost theatrical, aspects was shown by his assiduous wooing of the German Chancellor and his meticulous planning for the very public expressions of Franco-German reconciliation at the Cathedral of Rheims and the march past of French and German troops at the nearby Mourmelon military camp in July 1962. His own state visit to West Germany in September 1962 was a great success. One enthusiastic German newspaper remarked that ‘de Gaulle had come to Germany as the King of France and had returned to Paris as the Emperor of Europe.’30

90  Facing up to de Gaulle De Gaulle’s considerable communication skills were fully mobilised in the efforts to win over the Germans. Creating a solid Franco-German foundation was the essential element in his project for a ‘European Europe.’ His appeals to the Germans to join him in this enterprise were made at every available opportunity. De Gaulle fully realised that the Germans were unwilling to give up their alliance with the United States and that there was widespread German support for British entry into the EEC. He was, however, able to exploit German concerns that the ‘Anglo-Saxons’ were not entirely reliable partners. Macmillan’s attitude over the Berlin crisis was shrewdly exploited in order to reinforce the Paris-Bonn axis. De Gaulle warned Adenauer when they met in December 1961 that the British were so determined to reach an agreement with the Soviets that they would accept almost any conditions. If Berlin was still in the hands of the West, he added, it was thanks to France’s strong support. This was contradicted by the fact that most French forces were still stationed in Algeria and in no position to effectively defend the city. In fact, de Gaulle’s hard line would have committed the Americans far more than the French. Spaak thought that de Gaulle’s position was ‘quite ridiculous, since the French contribution to the defence of any areas outside French territory was almost negligible; while Metropolitan France herself was at present entirely defended by her Allies.’31 De Gaulle repeatedly sowed doubts in the minds of the other Europeans about the reliability of the American nuclear umbrella, but so long as France was unable to offer any viable alternative, these remained unconvincing. France’s inability to offer the West Germans a realistic alternative to NATO in large part explains his limited success in winning them over to his cause. As in many other areas, de Gaulle drew on history to back up his case for a Franco-German alliance. The recent record of Franco-German relations did not appear to offer a promising starting point but, he argued, while the French and Germans had been enemies since 1870, in the broader sweep of History (and his could hardly have been broader), they had been natural allies going back to Charlemagne. If in the recent past the two peoples had been at each other’s throats, it was in large part the fault of the British who for centuries had prevented the continental Europeans from coming together. Seeing Germany as the hereditary enemy was, therefore, an incorrect reading of history. With Adenauer, de Gaulle was able to bring West Germany closer to France but never to decisively pull it out of the American orbit. Other German leaders, starting with Erhard, Adenauer’s successor as Chancellor, were less willing to accept his vision and de Gaulle’s relations with them never achieved the same intimacy. Ultimately, the French and Germans, whoever was facing de Gaulle, were divided over the approach to take towards the United States. Following Adenauer’s departure in October  1963, de Gaulle’s great hopes for the Franco-German alliance gradually gave way to disillusion. The Elysée Treaty of January 1963 raised great expectations but its impact was considerably reduced when the Bundestag imposed a preamble recognising the central

Facing up to de Gaulle 91 importance of Germany’s relations with NATO. De Gaulle’s deep disappointment at seeing the keystone of his European project so weakened was plain to see. The German politicians, he said, ‘are afraid of not lying down before the Anglo-Saxons! They are behaving like pigs!’32 The increasing unwillingness of the West Germans in the immediate post-Adenauer era to simply go along with French leadership in Europe and their demands to play a more equal role disturbed de Gaulle’s European policy. He continued, nonetheless, to believe that Germany had no other choice than to remain in France’s ‘wake.’ Germany, he said, could be part of the European team but only so long as she remained behind the ‘leading (French) horse.’ What irritated the Germans, he went on, was that they were inferior to us . . . in this Europe where, in reality, we are the ones holding the reins. . . . It is a poor country with a peg leg. It will remain the case so long as they aren’t reunited.33 De Gaulle’s difficulties with the Germans were not exploited by the British. Hopes that there might be an opening for Britain whenever the Franco-German relationship seemed to be cooling off failed to materialise. The British had no more liking for Adenauer than they had for de Gaulle. The British Ambassador in Bonn described them as ‘two aged Jesuitical devils.’34 Macmillan never achieved anything like a personal rapport with Adenauer and felt that he had let him down by failing to support the FTA plan. In reply, Adenauer reportedly told a colleague in 1959 that Britain should be told bluntly that it was ‘no longer the leader of Europe – Germany and France are the leaders now.’35 The British continued to view the close Franco-German relationship with considerable distaste. Macmillan, like many others of his generation in Britain, never got over his innate suspicions of Germany. Relations between Bonn and London improved later on in the decade but never to the point of allowing Britain to break into or disrupt the Franco-German couple. At the decisive moments, Bonn’s priority was its ties with France not those with Britain. The United States as help or hindrance Before 1958, the links between the questions of European integration and the Atlantic Alliance had been relatively untroubled. De Gaulle’s growing insistence on establishing a Europe with its own distinct identity transformed this into one of the most divisive issues between the Western powers. The United States had consistently supported the principle of a European union after 1945. The benefits to be derived from greater unity in Western Europe were seen as outweighing the narrower commercial costs that this would involve. Successive administrations in Washington had been disappointed by Britain’s reluctance to engage with the rest of Europe and although they continued to support British entry into a united

92  Facing up to de Gaulle Europe they had turned to France as a more promising leader of the federal projects they favoured. After 1958, de Gaulle clearly did not fit the bill for the Americans who regarded his leadership claims to Europe with alarm. This convinced Washington more than ever of the benefits of British membership, and if possible their leadership, of the EEC. London and Washington, however, did not see eye to eye on the sort of Europe they wanted to see emerge. The British aim of creating a purely commercial arrangement for the whole of Western Europe, something that would have discriminated against American exporters without necessarily adding to its political cohesion, did not satisfy the United States. Macmillan’s attempts to convince the Americans that they should not support the EEC, that rather than reinforcing the West it was adding to its divisions, were rejected. Despite these disagreements, the British and Americans shared a growing concern about de Gaulle’s increasingly assertive foreign policy. Both complained that de Gaulle was free-riding on the guarantee of America’s defence commitment while deliberately causing difficulties for the very allies who were defending his country and the rest of Western Europe. Contrary to the assurances being given by de Gaulle to Adenauer, London and Washington saw him as the weak link in the West and as someone prepared to reach a separate bilateral deal with Moscow over the heads of the Germans. American support for Britain in Europe was not always beneficial. Seeing the ‘Anglo-Saxons’ lining up against him only served to reinforce de Gaulle’s fears that his plans for a ‘European Europe’ would be frustrated by London and Washington and added to his already strong inclination to block British move to enter the EEC. American support was a double-edged sword. Playing the card of NATO solidarity was, on the one hand, welcomed by some of Britain’s supporters among the Five. On the other hand, it strengthened de Gaulle’s conviction that there was an ‘Anglo-Saxon’ plot to undermine his position. Macmillan noted in his diary in June 1962: So far as the Common Market is concerned, the Americans are (with the best intentions) doing our cause great harm. The more they tell the Germans, French etc., that they (U.S.A.) want Britain to be in, the more they incline these countries to keep us out. . . . It’s rather sad, because the Americans (who are naïve and inexperienced) are up against centuries of diplomatic skill and finesse.36 French reactions confirmed all of Macmillan’s fears. There were numerous contentious issues between the British and French, but it was their divergent views about the relationship with the United States that constituted the most intractable one of all. De Gaulle’s suspicion of the Americans was deep rooted and remained constant throughout his career. His dislike of the close relationship that existed between the ‘Anglo-Saxons’ produced equally strong feelings. His unbending belief was that, from Yalta onwards,

Facing up to de Gaulle  93 they had done ‘everything they could to prevent’ France from becoming ‘the first in Europe.’ Any sign of Britain appearing as an American Trojan horse in Europe was sure to reinforce his determination to block British entry into the EEC. Unfortunately for the British, de Gaulle’s conviction that the Americans had ‘pushed the English forward to destroy (the EEC) from inside.’37 only grew over time. British efforts, made throughout the 1960s, to convince him otherwise were ineffective. The idea that France, and Europe, needed to free themselves from American domination formed the basis of his thinking. He reserved some of his most disparaging remarks for what he saw as the ‘foreign party’ inside France and for those in Europe who looked to America for leadership, starting with the British. Britain, followed by many others in Europe, had, in his eyes, become a satellite of the United States. For de Gaulle, the United States should be seen as an ally but could not be accepted as an unquestioned leader of the entire West. That the United States had tried since 1945 to assume precisely such a role meant that, for de Gaulle, resistance was the only available course and that some form of trans-Atlantic struggle was inevitable. Europe, he argued, could ‘only be defined . . . by its difference, if not its opposition, to America. Otherwise America . . . will have destroyed it spiritually, culturally and politically.’ France was the only country that could do this and must therefore be ‘the guardian of those essential elements from which Europe will emerge.’38 Although never a little man in any sense, de Gaulle was happy to play the part of the small guy outsmarting his more powerful enemies. One memorable comparison he made himself was with Tintin.39 Heroically standing up to the Americans was a made-to-measure role that he delighted in playing. The Americans’ refusal to agree to de Gaulle’s 1958 proposal for a triumvirate in the Western Alliance confirmed his belief that the United States would always stand in the way of his ambitions and that the only way forward was for France to impose herself as the leader of a united Europe. For the British, rather than seeing the danger of allowing an American fox into the European chicken coop, the trans-Atlantic relationship was welcomed as a necessary insurance against the Soviet threat and as a vital prop to the ‘one-world’ economic system. Where de Gaulle’s focus was on independence from the United States, the British highlighted trans-Atlantic interdependence and accepted, given the United States’ enormous strength, that it should assume the leadership of the West. Seen from London and Washington, de Gaulle’s policy was no more than posturing and bravado. He was accused of refusing to recognise the realities of post-war international relations and of living in the nineteenth century. In reply, de Gaulle argued that it was impossible for the British to maintain their ‘liaison’40 with the Americans while attempting to take a leading part in European affairs, that this was, in fact, no more than a façade for an ‘inexorable American hegemony’41 that would prolong the Europeans’ subservience. There could never have been an absolute choice between the United States and Europe. No more for France than for Britain. Yet de Gaulle was surely right in emphasising

94  Facing up to de Gaulle the need for priorities to be set. The British desire to somehow stand astride the Atlantic, one foot in Europe, the other in North America, was always likely to stretch British diplomacy to its limits. France’s priority was Europe; Britain’s priority was the United States. Neither priority, however, was absolute and the possibility of finding common ground remained if both sides were prepared to take steps towards it. Wartime memories De Gaulle’s obsession with the ‘Anglo-Saxons’ and the threat they represented to his ambitions for France were rooted in his wartime experiences as a junior partner of the allies. His reputation as a prickly ally, as someone ‘always ready to be insulted,’42 was firmly established. Years after the end of the War, de Gaulle’s resentment at his humiliations at the allies’ hands could be easily reignited. As late as 1969, the Foreign Office still complained of ‘everything being bedevilled by an old man’s memory of insults or imagined insults of twentyfive years ago.’43 Georges Pompidou, de Gaulle’s Prime Minister and successor as President, thought that de Gaulle ‘doesn’t know how to forgive.’44 For the British, the record of the War was not one of de Gaulle’s mistreatment – de Gaulle and France were never given a leading role in British histories of the War – but rather one of how Britain had saved him and provided him with the means to play the role that he did. Macmillan, who had worked closely alongside de Gaulle and had helped him in Algiers in 1943, received no recognition of this from the French leader when he came up against him again fifteen years later. De Gaulle’s list of grievances was long and never forgotten. One story, possibly apocryphal but which was widely told at the time, came from Paul Reynaud, the French Président du Conseil in 1940 who had first appointed de Gaulle as a junior Minister. When he wrote to de Gaulle in 1963 to complain about his poor treatment of his British allies, reminding him of the debt owed to them for their wartime services to France, he received in return a brief unsigned note, but in the General’s distinctive handwriting, on which he had written ‘if away, forward to Agincourt or Waterloo.’45 In 1964, de Gaulle refused to commemorate the twentieth anniversary of the D-Day landings arguing that they had been an ‘Anglo-Saxon affair from which France was excluded.’46 A few weeks later, he attended the equivalent ceremonies for the landings in Provence where the French had played a more significant part. De Gaulle’s preferred reference, one that he frequently came back to, was his stormy meeting with Churchill on the eve of the Normandy landings in June 1944. This became a fixed part of his mental baggage to be taken out and used whenever required in his later clashes with the British. Churchill’s words, expressed in one of his frequent bouts of anger at the Free French leader, continued to be used to explain Britain’s attitude towards the Continent by all later generations of French leaders. The story left a deep mark on

Facing up to de Gaulle 95 French beliefs as to Britain’s suitability as part of Europe. British leaders, like Macmillan, argued that de Gaulle was unable to look to the future but ‘could only look backwards – to Louis XIV’47 but they were no less prone to turn to the past for explanations and inspiration. When de Gaulle vetoed the British applications to enter the EEC in 1963 and 1967, Macmillan and Wilson appealed for a revival of the Dunkirk spirit when the British had been forced into another retreat from the Continent, hoping that this latest reverse could be turned around once again as it had been in 1940. The uses and abuses of history As the reference to Agincourt suggests, de Gaulle’s historical references went back far beyond 1940. De Gaulle, no less than the many observers who sought to shed some light on his thoughts and actions, continuously made use of historical references. Time and again, he drew on the history of France going back to the Gauls, Charlemagne, Joan of Arc, Louis XIV, Napoleon, and in his lifetime to figures such as Clemenceau. His personal role and that of France were backed up with such references. He compared himself to Clovis who, like him, had arrived as the national saviour when France desperately needed someone to redress its fortunes. British leaders were no less prone to look to the past and to regard present-day conflicts in the light of often centuries-old international events. If both the British and the French shared a common concern for history, the lessons that they drew from it were quite different. De Gaulle saw the great historic figures such as Charlemagne, Louis XIV and Napoleon as examples of French glory, as leaders to be admired for placing France in the foremost position in Europe. The same historical references were pointed to in London but for opposite reasons. The prospect of de Gaulle, or any other French or German leader, emulating these French heroes from the past served as a reminder of Britain’s record of resistance against the dangers emanating from the Continent. Britain, Macmillan argued, had heroically stood up to previous hegemonic ambitions and would, if called on, do so again. Where Britain identified the dangers of previous attempts to dominate Europe, de Gaulle saw a different European heritage, one of a continent united around a Franco-German core. Unlike de Gaulle, the British were unable to find anything positive in such historical reflections. Instead, negative images abounded. The Continent had been a source of conflict in the past and history was now repeating itself. In particular, the continental Europeans had to be stopped from reimposing Napoleon’s Continental Blockade. Not surprisingly, both de Gaulle and Adenauer saw this British policy towards Europe as essentially destructive, pursuing their traditional objective of thwarting European unity through a policy of divide and rule. There was an element of truth in this accusation. Britain’s mission in Europe was as much a negative one, attempting to block progress along a path which they disapproved of, as a positive alternative proposal.

96  Facing up to de Gaulle De Gaulle’s views of Britain and the British De Gaulle was often a target of attacks from Britain on both a personal and a political level. His own views of the British were just as uncomplimentary. The British, he said, were ‘in complete disarray,’ ‘broken-down,’ ‘lurching’ and ‘tottering’; sterling was ‘on its last legs, the English too.’ Britain’s leaders were ‘fools’ and ‘gutless,’ Wilson an ‘oddball.’ His condescending instructions to his Ministers in 1963 were to avoid giving the impression of knocking the ‘poor English.’48 It was not hard to discern the same disparagement in his public pronouncements. His disdain for Britain could also be seen in the way he increasingly side-lined them in his international analyses. Numerous reports came in from the Ambassador in London on the ‘British malaise’ backing up these views. De Gaulle showed no sympathy for Britain when it suffered a series of reverses at home and abroad. Indeed, he took every opportunity to look down on them whenever they ran into difficulties. Given his firm belief in the antagonistic nature of international relations, he was more likely to seek to take advantage of Britain’s weaknesses than to offer any solace or assistance. De Gaulle’s feelings towards the British were not always quite so negative and at times he also expressed his admiration for them. There were, however, some themes that remained constant. Just as he had ‘a certain idea of France,’ he also had an equally certain idea of other countries, starting with Britain. These essentialist interpretations were firmly based on geography and history. On both counts, in de Gaulle’s mind, Britain was set apart from France and the rest of the Continent. In 1948, he argued that it was ‘extremely difficult to bring together, for an effective cooperation, states whose geographical positions and external interests are so different.’49 The British, he told Macmillan, had ‘a long history as Europeans’ and ‘should be part of Europe.’ But he added that they were European ‘in their own way.’50 De Gaulle’s belief in the inherent and unchanging national characters was central to his approach to international relations. Looking at Britain and France, he saw two quite distinct countries, constantly rivals, separated by their fundamentally different attitudes and outlooks on the world. His assessment of France’s national interest, which was always paramount in his thinking, led him to see Anglo-French relations as confrontational, something he regarded as part of the natural order of things. In 1934, he had written that ‘Between France and the Soviet Union, there are no matters in direct dispute. Between France and Great Britain, there always have been and there always will be.’51 Twenty-five years later, he presented a deeply pessimistic image of the Anglo-French relationship. Over the centuries, he told Dixon: [I]t had been the rule and not the exception for relations between our two countries to be bad, a relationship between rivals and not allies. It was only our common fear of Germany that had, exceptionally, brought us together in

Facing up to de Gaulle 97 this century. This fear no longer existed and with it had disappeared the one spur which had enabled France and Britain to work together.52 With his Ministers, he went even further. ‘Our greatest hereditary enemy isn’t Germany,’ he told them: [I]t is England. From the Hundred Years’ War up to Fashoda, she barely stopped fighting us. Since then she has never found it easy to avoid opposing her interests to ours. . . . She was our ally in the two world wars but it isn’t in her nature to wish us well.53 For de Gaulle, it was, with Britain as with all other countries, precisely this ‘nature’ that needed to be borne in mind. The British were fully aware of how de Gaulle regarded them. According to Churchill, de Gaulle was ‘one of those good Frenchmen who have a traditional antagonism (towards the British), ingrained in French hearts by centuries of war against the English.’54 Macmillan thought he had an ‘inherited hatred of England (since Joan of Arc)’55 that he could never throw off. De Gaulle’s background certainly encouraged such fixed views of the British. Brought up in a strongly patriotic, Catholic and monarchist environment, there was much in his early life that pushed him in an Anglophobe direction. His memoirs point to the long-term importance of the education he received. His early fascination with the history of France was something that marked him for life. From his father, he acquired the strongest possible sense of a France which had known both glory and disaster but whose identity was eternal and whose ultimate grandeur was assured. The tales told by the family were not only of defeat and capitulation in 1870, of heroic if vain resistance, but also of the great successes of earlier epochs. There was even an ancestor of de Gaulle who had fought the English in the Hundred Years’ War. The events unfolding during his early life seemed to be the natural continuation of centuries of struggle against hostile neighbours. He was never able to entirely escape from this deeply rooted set of beliefs that saw Britain as France’s traditional enemy. There were many in Britain whose mindsets exactly mirrored those of de Gaulle and who were just as stuck in their own historical stereotypes. The views on one side were often reflected on the other in a mutually reinforcing fashion. It was from these firmly held geopolitical and historical convictions that de Gaulle viewed the British attempts to enter the EEC. De Gaulle doubted Britain’s compatibility with his European project. Ultimately, he was not convinced that Britain was, or could ever be, truly European. Britain, he told Adenauer, was by her very nature, not a continental combatant. She may play a part . . . but her essential role is not there but to provide a cover for Europe in the northern

98  Facing up to de Gaulle seas and to protect sea communications. That is the way she is made. That is her nature.56 These historical and geographic ‘realities,’ de Gaulle said, set Britain apart from France and Germany and her application would have to wait ‘so long as economically and politically Britain remains what she is.’57 For de Gaulle, it was not that France sought to exclude Britain from the EEC but that Britain’s very nature ‘prevented it from entering.’58 Seen from this perspective, de Gaulle did not ‘veto’ the British applications. Instead, by failing to ‘become European,’ Britain ruled itself out. Just what constituted being European was, of course, not clearly explained and the criteria, such as they were, were determined by de Gaulle himself who acted as ‘Jury, judge and counsel for the prosecution’59 in this affair. French grandeur and leadership Before returning to power in 1958, de Gaulle had set out what he saw as France’s ‘eminent and exceptional destiny.’ France, he wrote, ‘is not really itself except in the front rank. . . . In short, France cannot be France without greatness.’60 The starting point to reach this objective was to establish a strong domestic base. The next step was to win the leadership of Europe and thereby return France to the high table of international affairs. Some have seen this as a means by which France could compensate for some of its limitations through a creative and spectacular diplomacy, as prestige politics designed as much for show as to exercise international influence or exercise power. De Gaulle himself was aware of the limited means he had at his disposal to achieve his international ambitions. The opposition of the ‘Anglo-Saxons’ to his plans was obvious. In Europe, his attempts to convince others to back him up in his efforts to create a Europe according to his blueprint, one built on what he saw as the ‘realities’ of the nationstates and not on the unrealistic concepts of the supranationalists, met with only limited success. His vision of Europe was not widely shared across Europe. Yet unless he could convince enough Europeans to follow his lead, there was no possibility of achieving his goals. ‘The drama of Europe,’ he said in 1963, ‘was that apart from us, nobody else has the ambition to be truly European.’61 He was, he said, the only truly European statesman. His complaints about the attitudes of all the other Europeans extended even to his closest ally, Adenauer. He continued to be portrayed in this way as an exemplary European by many in France long after his departure. Depicting de Gaulle as a true European, more European than his rivals in France or elsewhere in Europe, depended on how Europe was defined. As one of de Gaulle’s biographers argued, his Europe was ‘sincere,’ ‘open,’ and ‘generous,’ but ‘also irreducibly tricolour, fleurdelisée.’62 For his critics, de Gaulle saw Europe as no more than an extension of France. As Macmillan put it, ‘He talks of Europe, and means France.’63 From this point of view, de Gaulle

Facing up to de Gaulle 99 may be considered a true European, but only so long as the Europe in question was a Gaullist one. De Gaulle would have countered by saying that he was defending not just France and French interests but the whole of Europe. Couve denied that France had any hegemonic designs in Europe and was not attempting to impose a French Europe but to provide the other Europeans with the leadership they needed. De Gaulle’s words, and many of his actions, were often given a quite different interpretation outside France. Meanwhile, British confidence that they would emerge victorious in the inevitable battle with de Gaulle was waning. The EEC was now firmly in place and their efforts to convince the Six to accept that it should be absorbed into a wide FTA were making little or no progress in the discussions in the OEEC. The British were clinging to a position in Europe that was becoming increasingly untenable. Simply waiting on events, hoping for something to turn up or for the Six to fail in their European initiatives, offered no solution to Britain’s problems. Notes 1 De Gaulle, L’appel, 1. 2 Tournoux, Tragédie, 402. 3 FO 371/169107, 3 January  1963; PREM 11/3338, 15 November  1961; FO 371/173342, 9 February  1963; FO 371/169124, 6 May  1963; FO 371/169116, 11 July 1963. 4 FO 371/172070, 7 October 1963. 5 PREM 13/2645, 13 June 1969. 6 PREM 13/2655, 29 January 1969. 7 FO 371/169114, 26 January 1963. 8 PREM 11/3789, 31 May 1962; Spaak, Combats, II, 170; Peyrefitte, France redevient, 16; Mangold, Impossible Ally, 89, 104. 9 FO 371/177875, 19 October 1964. Quoted in Jackson, Certain Idea, 577. 10 Macmillan, End of the Day, 121. 11 PREM 13/2655, 20 January 1969. 12 FO 371/169107, 3 January 1963. 13 Horne, Macmillan, 319. 14 MAE, Vol.262, Série 16/24, dossier 1, 5 November 1965. 15 PREM 13/324, 3 April 1965. 16 MAE, Vol.261, Série 16, 3 April 1964; FO 371/169114, 6 February 1963. 17 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 295. 18 FO 371/182952, October 1964. 19 Parr, Britain’s Policy, 30. 20 Horne, Macmillan, 318. 21 MAE, Carton 1739, Série 16/23, dossier 3/1, 28 January 1961. 22 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 355 and 299. 23 Heath, Course, 230. 24 Tournoux, Tragédie, 463. 25 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 303. 26 PREM 13/317, 29 January 1965. 27 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 378–79. 28 Ledwidge, De Gaulle, 263; Bell, Long Separation, 177.

100  Facing up to de Gaulle 29 FRUS, 1958–60, Vol.7, Doc.1, 5 November 1960. 30 Gladwyn, De Gaulle’s Europe, 75. 31 PREM 11/3002, 14 October 1958. Quoted in Pagedas, Strategic Relations, 27. 32 Peyrefitte, France reprend, 228. 33 Peyrefitte, France reprend, 262. 34 Quoted in Bange, EEC Crisis, 92. 35 Quoted in Mangold, Impossible Ally, 125. 36 Macmillan, End of the Day, 335. 37 Peyrefitte, France reprend, 261 and 33. 38 Pisani, Général indivis, 87. 39 Malraux, Les chênes, 37. 40 PREM 11/3775, 2 June 1962. 41 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 367–68. 42 FO 371/36013. Quoted in Mangold, Impossible Ally, 18. 43 PREM 13/2655, 2 May 1969. 44 Peyrefitte, Tout le monde, 117. 45 Reynaud, Politique étrangère, 136. PREM 11/4811, 6 February 1964. 46 Peyrefitte, France reprend, 84. 47 Horne, Macmillan, 319. 48 Peyrefitte, France reprend, 37, 79, 311. 49 Quoted in Jouve, Construction d’Europe, I, 178, fn.203. 50 DDF, 1961, I, Doc. 192, 24–25 November 1961. 51 Quoted in Pickles, Uneasy Entente, 1. 52 FCO 30/414, 5 February 1969. 53 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 153–54. 54 Wall, Reluctant European, 60. 55 Horne, Macmillan, 319. 56 DDF, 1960, II, Doc. 54, 29–30 July 1960. 57 De Gaulle, Renouveau, 188. 58 DDF, 1960, II, Doc. 95, 1 September 1960. 59 Beloff, General, 11. 60 De Gaulle, l’Appel, pp. 1–2. 61 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 367. 62 Lacouture, Souverain, 315. 63 Horne, Macmillan, 319.

References Bange, Oliver. The EEC Crisis of 1963: Kennedy, Macmillan, de Gaulle and Adenauer in Conflict. Basingstoke: Macmillan, 2000. Bell, P. M. H. Britain and France 1940–1994 the Long Separation. London: Longman, 1997. Beloff, Nora. The General Says No. London: Penguin, 1963. Catterall, Peter, ed. The Macmillan Years. Prime Minister and After, 1957–1966. London: Macmillan, 2011. De Gaulle, Charles. Mémoires de guerre. L’appel: 1940–1942. Paris: Plon, 1954. De Gaulle, Charles. Mémoires d’espoir. Tome 1: Le renouveau. Paris: Plon, 1970. Gladwyn Jebb, Hubert. De Gaulle’s Europe or Why the General Says No. London: Secker and Arburg, 1969.

Facing up to de Gaulle 101 Heath, Edward. The Course of My Life. My Autobiography. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1998. Horne, Alistair. Macmillan. 1957–1986. London: Macmillan, 1989. Jackson, Julian. A Certain Idea of France. The Life of Charles de Gaulle. 1990. London: Penguin, 2019. Jouve, Edmond. Le Général de Gaulle et la construction d’Europe. Paris: Librairie générale de droit, 1967. Lacouture, Jean. De Gaulle. Tome 3: le souverain 1959–1970. Paris: Editions du seuil, 1986. Ledwidge, Bernard. De Gaulle. Paris: Flammarion, 1982. Macmillan, Harold. At the End of the Day. 1961–1963. London: Macmillan, 1973. Malraux, André. Les chênes qu’on abat. Paris: Gallimard, 1971. Mangold, Peter. The Almost Impossible Ally. Harold Macmillan and Charles de Gaulle. London: I. B. Tauris, 2006. Martin, Garret. General de Gaulle’s Cold War: Challenging American Hegemony, 1963– 1968. New York: Berghahn, 2013. Pagedas, Constantine A. Anglo-American Strategic Relations and the French Problem 1960–1963. A Troubled Partnership. London: Frank Cass, 2000. Parr, Helen. Britain’s Policy Towards the European Community. Harold Wilson and Britain’s World Role, 1964–1967. London: Routledge, 2005. Peyrefitte, Alain. C’était de Gaulle. Tome 1: “La France redevient la France”. Paris: Fayard, 1994. Peyrefitte, Alain. C’était de Gaulle. Tome 2: “La France reprend sa place dans le monde”. Paris: Fayard, 1997. Peyrefitte, Alain. C’était de Gaulle. Tome 3: “Tout le monde a besoin d’une France qui marche”. Paris: Fayard, 2000. Pickles, Dorothy. The Uneasy Entente: French Foreign Policy and Franco-British Misunderstanding. London: Oxford University Press, 1966. Pisani, Edgar. Le Général indivis. Paris: Albin Michel, 1974. Reynaud, Paul. La politique étrangère du gaullisme. Paris: Juillard, 1964. Spaak, Paul-Henri. Combats inachevés. Tome 2: De l’espoir aux déceptions. Paris: Fayard, 1969. Tournoux, Raymond. La tragédie du Général. Paris: Plon, 1967. Wall, Stephen. Reluctant European. Britain and the European Union From 1945 to Brexit. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2020.

8 EEC, FTA and ETFA Europe at sixes and sevens

The last Governments of the Fourth Republic had already consistently blocked British attempts to push through their FTA proposal. De Gaulle showed no greater willingness to give up the high ground or to allow the British to undermine the arrangements his predecessors had fought so hard to win from the other Europeans. In fact, he was even more resolute in defending these positions against the British attacks. His strategic calculations and his plans for a French-led Europe, in which the Germans would be France’s main partners, were simply not compatible with the idea of a wider Europe including Britain. Macmillan’s argument that a divided Europe would only weaken both Britain and France against the Soviet Union made little impression on de Gaulle. Having won over Adenauer, and fearing that pro-British and pro-FTA feelings in the Six would grow if talks were allowed to continue, the French Government announced in November 1958 that they could not agree to the FTA plan, in effect vetoing further discussions. De Gaulle later said that he had broken off the negotiations as soon as the French ‘were close enough to the Germans to prevent the English from carrying out their work of destruction.’1 Significantly, there were no complaints from Washington about the demise of the FTA. Shortly after, the final meeting of the Maudling committee broke up in acrimony. Selwyn Lloyd thought relations with Paris had reached the most critical stage since June 1940. At the end of the year, Britain had to admit that the FTA was dead. The outcome, after months of protracted talks, was a serious blow for the British. According to Gladwyn, the rejection of Britain’s ‘liberal solution, which had been earnestly and indeed passionately advocated,’ came as ‘a severe shock.’2 The journalist Nora Beloff believed that, for France, it had been a ‘chance of spanking Britain.’3 The British had overestimated the strength of their negotiating position which made the defeat, when it came, all the harder to bear. Blame was placed squarely on the French and their naturally protectionist tendencies. French intransigence, it was argued, had held back the goodwill shown by others. In reality, few in the Six had been willing to agree to any proposal that would have allowed the British to gain unhindered access to the European markets while at the same time retaining their privileged relationship with the DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-8

EEC, FTA and ETFA  103 Commonwealth. The cohesion of the EEC, and most significantly the growing warmth in Franco-German relations, was underestimated by the British. Some British accounts of the British reverse put it down to the superior diplomatic skills of the French. One British diplomat who participated in the negotiations thought the French, by keeping their ‘cards held close to their chests in a way which we have never been able to achieve . . . had us beaten on tactics the whole time.’4 A  more fundamental cause was identified by Spaak. The talks leading up to the Treaty of Rome succeeded, whereas those in the Maudling Committee failed, he said, because the participants had ‘a shared political will’ that allowed them to overcome the difficulties facing them. On the contrary, the work in the Maudling Committee became ‘lost in theoretical complications that turned out to be insoluble because the negotiators were not motivated by the same ideal.’5 Although it was de Gaulle, who finally brought down the axe, the decisive role was played as much by Adenauer. There had been some initial sympathy for the British approach towards Europe in West Germany but the Government in Bonn was not prepared to jeopardise the links with Paris or the European project. These were now the German priorities. Following the collapse of the FTA plan, the OEEC, which had been the main forum in which the British had exercised their leadership in Europe, became of little use. In 1960, its transformation into the OECD, when the United States, Japan, Australia, Canada and New Zealand joined, confirmed that it would henceforth be a global economic structure and not a political European one. The setback over the FTA and the partial demise of the OEEC forced the British to look to alternatives, possibly the creation of a trading bloc with those European countries that remained outside the EEC. This, it was hoped, would promote British trade and, once in place, could be used to apply pressure on the Six and encourage them to return to the negotiating table. The ultimate aim remained to create a wider European trading bloc covering the whole of Western Europe. The French, followed by a majority of leaders across the EEC, were focused on carrying out the plans laid out in the Treaty of Rome and had little desire to reopen the debate with the British. British fears that this was laying the ground for either a federal Europe or a French-led Europe were growing. In October 1958, Macmillan concluded that de Gaulle was ‘bidding high for the hegemony of Europe.’6 The British now launched a diplomatic campaign to thwart both de Gaulle and the plans of the European federalists, starting with efforts to mobilise the support of the Americans. According to a report of his talks in Washington in February 1960 leaked to The Times, Macmillan told the Americans ‘Should France and Germany go on the road towards a unified Western Europe, Britain in the long run had no other choice but to lead another peripheral alliance against them’ just as ‘in the time of Napoleon Britain allied itself with Russia to break the French Emperor’s ambition.’7 While he accepted that the new West German Republic was democratic, he was less sure of what would happen once Adenauer was no longer there. He even raised the spectre of a return of the Nazis.

104  EEC, FTA and ETFA De Gaulle mischievously told Macmillan the following April that he had ‘been somewhat struck by reports that the Prime Minister was contemplating an alliance with Russia.’ Macmillan’s reply that ‘of course these reports were quite untrue’8 was not entirely convincing. In either case, the damage had already been done. Macmillan’s private remarks confirmed that he was indeed very much concerned for exactly the same reasons as had been reported in the press and that he saw the spectre of Napoleon all around him. Building bridges Any doubts that the EEC might not come about or that it would prove ineffective, and possibly break up, were soon dissipated. It was unlikely that de Gaulle would have signed the Treaty of Rome had he been in office in 1957 and equally unlikely that the leaders of the Fourth Republic would have been able to implement it had they still been there in 1958. Among the Six, France had been the least inclined to agree to its terms. De Gaulle had previously shown little sympathy for the EEC and many of his followers had called for France to walk away from the project. On his return to power, however, he quickly sought to reassure France’s EEC partners that he would respect the agreements reached by his predecessors. Britain’s opposition to the Treaty of Rome and its attempts to replace it with the FTA may even have encouraged him to see it in a more favourable light. His acceptance of the EEC has sometimes been seen as a decisive moment in the history of the EEC and has led some to argue that he should be seen as one of the founding fathers of Europe. The EEC progressed steadily towards its initial objective of reducing and harmonising tariffs on trade between its members. France not only accepted the implementation of this first stage of the Treaty of Rome but also pushed for its acceleration. These developments placed Britain in an increasingly exposed position. Work on an alternative trading group to rival the EEC had been underway in London for some time before the collapse of the FTA plan. This led to the creation of EFTA between Britain, Austria, Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Portugal and Switzerland in 1960. This was always a poor second choice to membership of the far larger EEC. Macmillan thought of it as the ‘first line of defence in the economic field’9 and as useful backing for Britain in its negotiations with the Six. The EFTA ‘Seven’ were now to be lined up behind Britain against the EEC ‘Six.’ Macmillan noted in his diary on 7 July 1959: The stakes in this affair are very high – no less than the survival of the industrial life and strength of Britain. For if we cannot successfully organise the opposition group . . . then we shall undoubtedly be eaten up, one by one, by the 6. Despite the obvious dangers, he remained optimistic that, once EFTA was up and running, ‘the Six will be ready for a reasonable negotiation between the

EEC, FTA and ETFA 105 two groups.’10 It was hoped that the threat of retaliatory EFTA tariffs would force the Six to take a more accommodating stance towards Britain’s wider free-trade schemes. In particular, the threat this would pose to West German exports to the EFTA countries was expected to put pressure on the Government in Bonn. EFTA, however, proved to be a disappointment. Although it did cut tariffs between its members, it did so far more slowly than the reductions being agreed to within the EEC. In terms of trade growth, it was the EEC that set the pace. Contrary to Macmillan’s hopes, it was the EEC that put pressure on EFTA rather than the other way around. EFTA fell far short of British expectations, both as a trading bloc and as a lever with which to force the Six back to the negotiating table where the British hoped to revive their idea of a European-wide trading area. Britain remained excluded from an EEC increasingly dominated by the Paris-Bonn axis. If EFTA had been designed as an attempt to destabilise the European Community, then it was showing no signs of succeeding. The fact that British trade was progressing more rapidly with the Six than with EFTA, despite the relative advantages it enjoyed in the latter, encouraged the growing belief that Britain would be better off inside the EEC. Official British policy, however, was still some way from reaching this conclusion. Macmillan, writing in September 1960, thought that ‘an agreement on Sixes and Sevens’ was ‘the vital British interest today.’11 There were even then still some lingering hopes that the Six might break up thus allowing Britain to step in with a renewed leadership bid. It was even thought possible that the Six might join EFTA. The looser structure that this offered continued to be viewed favourably by some on the Continent, notably in the Netherlands and by Erhard and his followers in West Germany. After the collapse of the FTA, Macmillan carried on his efforts to find an arrangement with the EEC that would avoid the discriminatory tariff being imposed on British exporters. The Six, though, were determined to preserve their cohesion. This, it was felt, required the maintenance of a common external tariff as the foundation on which the whole Common Market project was built. Hopes that there might be some form of EEC-EFTA bridge building failed to materialise. Persistent mistrust between them over tariff reductions kept the two sides apart. The Six focused more on encouraging trade among themselves than on trade with those outside. A committee was set up to discuss a possible trade agreement between the EEC and EFTA but made little progress. The French led the way in holding back its work. The EEC Commission and its President, Walter Hallstein, were no more sympathetic towards Britain’s attempts to establish a wider free-trade zone in Europe. They were determined to defend the common external tariff as an essential part of what they were building in Europe. Watering this down, as the British hoped to do, was not something they were prepared to accept. By insisting on this objective, the British were only encouraging the Six to stand together and thereby reinforcing the very barrier that they were trying to break down. The Americans’ dislike of EFTA, their publicly declared preference for the EEC and their opposition to

106  EEC, FTA and ETFA any wider OEEC-based commercial bloc that lacked a corresponding political dimension and that threatened to discriminate against American exporters further undermined Britain’s position. Britain and France reproached each other for standing in the way of the creation of a truly united Europe: the British argued that the political and economic division of Europe was the inevitable consequence of de Gaulle’s policies, and the French argued that Britain’s aim was the dissolution of Europe in a wider trans-Atlantic bloc. There was much talk at this time of Europe being ‘at Sixes and Sevens,’ of the EEC and ETFA adopting policies of mutual discrimination, with Britain and France glaring out at each other from opposing sides of the divide. It was France that now occupied the higher ground. The EEC simply outweighed EFTA. The British were forced to admit that the EEC represented something more than EFTA could ever be. De Gaulle dismissed it as an unimportant little free-trade zone. Having blocked the FTA plan in 1958, the French were determined to prevent the question being put back on the EEC’s agenda. Attempts to find an agreement between the Six and the Seven continued to come unstuck over the British demands that they should be allowed to maintain free access to their market for Commonwealth producers and their refusal to accept the full extent of the common external tariff. The French position inside the EEC was more easily defended than the one Britain found itself in on the outside. The French were now sufficiently strong to reject calls for a resolution of the Six-Seven divide. Using the case previously presented by the British against the OEEC and EEC, they now argued that it was only within the global format of the GATT that a wider trade agreement could be discussed. They also pointed out that the Treaty of Rome allowed new members to join the EEC and that they would welcome any such move on the part of the British. All they had to do was accept the terms of the Treaty. Knowing full well that the British were unwilling to make such a move, this was a safe line for them to take. This ploy served to highlight the already obvious, and growing, divergence between Britain and the Six. It also seriously undermined the British position in Europe. The British found it hard to respond to the simple fact that the door to EEC remained open to them if they accepted to sign up to the same terms as those already agreed to by each of the Six. The consolidation of the EEC, supported by the Commission, by each of the Six and by the United States, continued. Britain liked none of these developments but could do little to influence them. Internal EEC tariff reductions continued in 1960 along with the harmonisation of the Six’s external tariffs. Macmillan’s warnings did nothing to slow this down. De Gaulle, while he wanted to block any moves towards a reinforcement of the role and the powers of the Commission, something that the other Europeans were willing to envisage, was happy to see certain elements of the new Europe being established on firmer lines. That this would be done without any British participation was to France’s advantage. Each further step taken by the EEC was making any future British entry all

EEC, FTA and ETFA 107 the more difficult, steadily raising the price that Britain would have to pay for membership. In the meantime, the French could argue that British efforts to slow down the work being undertaken by the Six were another attempt to sabotage the European project. Similar accusations could be heard elsewhere, especially in Bonn. British countermeasures British attempts to convince the Six of the merits of their free-trade proposals were accompanied by renewed warnings and threats. Direct pressure on de Gaulle was unlikely to work. Bullying West Germany, on the other hand, was seen as a more hopeful course of action. If Bonn could be won around to accepting British demands, then the Germans in turn might put pressure on de Gaulle to give way. Warnings of the consequences should the EEC continue to move ahead without the British were repeatedly made. Macmillan half warned, half threatened Adenauer in November 1959 when he told him that ‘for an island people like the British, maintaining troops abroad for a long period was unprecedented and would be very difficult to continue if there were two economic groups in Europe engaged in a sort of economic war.’12 The developments on the Continent aroused deep concerns in London. Macmillan led the way in alerting his ministerial colleagues of the dangers facing them. Forming a ‘little Europe . . . without a parallel development of the Free Trade Area,’ he said, would force Britain to reconsider its attitude towards Europe. Should the Six continue along the path they had set out then he doubted if Britain could remain in NATO. We should certainly put on highly protective tariffs and quotas . . . adopt a policy of isolationism . . . surround ourselves with rockets . . . say to the Germans, the French and all the rest. . . . ‘Look after yourselves with your own forces. Look after yourselves when the Russians overrun your countries.’ The Chancellor, Derick Heathcoat-Amory, took a similar line arguing that ‘We should not allow ourselves to be destroyed little by little. We would fight back with every weapon in our armoury.’13 The British were approaching Europe with a stick more than with a carrot. Unfortunately for Macmillan, the stick he was wielding was not quite as heavy as he might have wished for. The carrot being dangled in front of the Six was no more convincing. Given that Britain’s own security also depended on the defence of West Germany, it was hard to see how these angry threats could be carried through. Nevertheless, Britain’s position in Europe was not entirely disadvantageous. De Gaulle was still facing enormous difficulties in Algeria and his domestic position was far from secure. The French economy had made considerable progress since the end of the War but its recovery appeared fragile. In 1958, when Macmillan went to Paris to meet the recently appointed French leader, he did so in the confident belief that he was in a sufficiently strong position to be able to impose his ideas. He was forthright in his warnings of the consequences of the Six going

108  EEC, FTA and ETFA ahead with their plans without taking the British into account. Europe, he said, would be dangerously divided, and if Britain was kept out of the new Europe, it would seek its friends elsewhere. Britain’s commitment to the defence of Europe and the troops stationed on the Continent would have to be reconsidered, and NATO’s future would become uncertain. Alternatively, if the two of them, with Adenauer alongside, took the present opportunity, they could unite Europe. Macmillan’s dramatic assertion that Europe was re-imposing Napoleon’s Continental Blockade and that this risked spilling over into a wider political conflict had an effect on the French leader, although not necessarily in the way he had hoped. Couve thought Macmillan’s outbursts were an ‘excessive dramatization’ of the developments in Europe.14 De Gaulle did not believe that Macmillan’s threats were credible and he concluded that they did not require him to change course. Macmillan’s confidence in his personal diplomatic skills and his hopes that he might be able to draw on his wartime contacts with the General came to nothing. His failure to establish a close working relationship with Adenauer or to rouse any sympathy with de Gaulle contrasted starkly with the relationship being built between the French and German leaders. Other ‘predictably difficult’15 encounters with the French followed over the next four years. The French continued to suspect that the British were attempting to ‘torpedo the Treaty of Rome’ and that their policy was motivated by concerns for their declining position in the world, even by jealousy of France’s renewal.16 The British responded with complaints of the ‘conspicuously Machiavellian instincts’ of the French leaders. Conversations with them, Heath noted, took place in a ‘cloak-and-dagger atmosphere’17 that did nothing to inspire confidence on either side. Talks between British and French experts in the first six months of 1961 to consider a possible Anglo-French agreement showed no signs of progress, particularly on the questions of agriculture and the Commonwealth. Macmillan continued to urge de Gaulle to call a halt to the programme of tariff reductions between the Six, repeating his warnings that the discrimination against British exporters would have dangerous political consequences. De Gaulle responded by again asking if Britain ‘could contemplate coming into the Common Market.’ The reply from Macmillan and Heath was that ‘this was unfortunately impossible’ and that ‘No British government or political party could, in the foreseeable future, take the decision to go in the Common Market in its present form.’18 Policy re-evaluations Underlying the difficult decisions facing the Government in London was the growing realisation of Britain’s decline as its economic performance continued to lag behind that of its competitors. Abroad, the Commonwealth was becoming as much a burden as a strength and the commercial advantages Britain drew from it less clear-cut. The relationship with the United States, though in some ways

EEC, FTA and ETFA 109 still ‘special,’ was looking increasingly shaky. It was against this background that the Government in London began to re-think its policy towards Europe. The immediate question was how to react to the EEC as it now existed. Peter Thorneycroft, the President of the Board of Trade, had already identified the central problem in 1956 when he had concluded that ‘we cannot afford that the Common Market should either succeed, or fail, without us.’19 Four years later, the EEC seemed to be succeeding very well in its existing six-member format. The uncomfortable question was now being asked if, after all, Britain should not seek to join the EEC. The Government began to take this idea seriously in 1960. Various committees were set up to consider the options open to them. The first reports did not come down in favour of an outright move to enter the EEC and they highlighted the difficulties that this would involve. At the same time, they pointed out the growing dangers of remaining outside. The main obstacles to joining were Britain’s links with the Commonwealth and EFTA which would have to be loosened and the costs that the Six would expect Britain to pay. The advantages of EEC membership were seen to lie in the areas of trade, investment and future economic performance. The political and electoral considerations were outside the remit of these interministerial groups but they were central to Macmillan and the rest of the Government. There was considerable unease in the Cabinet when it met to consider the experts’ recommendations in July 1960. Several Ministers were unwilling to even contemplate a move to enter the EEC. For the moment, Macmillan remained undecided. Considerations of the state of public opinion held the Government back. Other Ministers continued to hope that the FTA could still be achieved and therefore saw no need to change course. Giving up Commonwealth preferences as the price of entering the EEC was quite unacceptable to most of them. The belief that Commonwealth preferences could be retained in one form or another even inside the EEC was held onto by those more favourably inclined to take the leap but this failed to convince all their colleagues. The essential question was how far and via what mechanisms these Commonwealth preferences could be preserved given the EEC’s insistence on the importance of its common external tariff. It was far from sure how they could get around this conundrum. The Cabinet concluded that seeking EEC membership was the best option but that this would have to satisfy certain ‘special terms.’ The uncomfortable reality for the British was that the alternative options available to them were shrinking. The FTA had been ruled out by the Six who seemed unlikely to want to see the plan revived, the Commonwealth was losing some of its appeal and its commercial value and there was no prospect of complementing the special political relationship with the United States with a trans-Atlantic trading bloc. Going it alone made no economic or commercial sense. The British would have been happy if the EEC had never come into existence but, against their earlier expectations and hopes that it would never get off the ground, it was now an inescapable reality. Franco-German reconciliation had been cemented

110  EEC, FTA and ETFA and, despite occasional ups and downs, this relationship had not only survived but also become stronger. All this meant that the British were working from an increasingly weak and exposed position in Europe. It was from this starting point that the re-evaluation of British policy had to begin. The first observation was a negative one: that remaining outside the European mainstream and allowing the existing dominant European structure, the EEC, to develop without any British input would be economically and politically damaging. Britain would find itself excluded from a powerful European bloc led by the French. In this event, Britain would lose much of its influence in the world, especially in Washington, and suffer considerable economic damage as a result of the EEC’s discriminatory common external tariff that was already being felt by British exporters. These concerns were being forcefully expressed by large parts of British industry. Applying for EEC membership The decision to seek to enter the EEC, when it finally came in July 1961 after a long and difficult debate throughout Government, was not the result of any conversion to the principles of the sort of European integration then taking shape but was based on a recognition that, over the previous five years, Britain’s European policies had failed. The application was, in reality, a request to open negotiations to determine whether the conditions for entry could be met, leaving a final decision until the terms of accession had been agreed. The application was a conditional one. Numerous outstanding issues remained to be settled most importantly those concerning the Commonwealth, agricultural arrangements, commercial policy and the budget, the same questions that would plague relations between Britain and its European partners for decades to come. According to Hugo Young, Macmillan’s opening statement to the House of Commons was ‘fuller of negatives than positives, of doubt than exhilaration. He emphasised all “the most delicate and difficult matters” that had to be negotiated, and the many consultations, even permissions, that would have to be sought thereafter.’20 For Winston Churchill, the British were only setting out on a ‘reconnaissance.’21 The obvious lack of enthusiasm was summed up by Frederick Hoyer-Millar, the Permanent Under Secretary at the Foreign Office, when he said: ‘Although I agree that the political arguments in favour of joining the Community are strong, all my instincts are against doing so. Although one’s mind thinks one ought to join, one’s heart is against it.’22 A more positive incentive, although one that was becoming less realistic, was that membership of the EEC would allow Britain to hold onto what remained of its rank and standing in the world. For the British diplomat Con O’Neill, ‘what mattered was to get into the Community, and thereby restore our position at the centre of European affairs.’ A  limited association with the EEC was ruled out as only full membership would give Britain the ‘possibility of controlling and dominating Europe.’23 These positive

EEC, FTA and ETFA 111 aims were accompanied by growing fears of the consequences of remaining outside the EEC which, according to Heath, would mean ‘reconciling ourselves to being stuck in Western Europe’s second division.’24 Delay would only weaken Britain’s position. Moves to integrate Europe along supranational lines would take Europe further away from the model that Britain had for so long promoted. The calculation was that it would be better to enter a confederal Europe now than be forced into a federal one later on. If, as seemed likely, French dominance were to grow, this too would cause problems. In particular, the prospect of Britain finding itself isolated from both the United States and the EEC was a frightening one. Despite Britain’s growing difficulties, the ambition to lead Europe remained as strong in London as in Paris. In 1960, one report to the Cabinet argued that, once Britain had entered the Common Market, Britain would be in a position to ‘dominate and lead the group.’25 Others in Government and in Parliament, including Macmillan, took the same line. Many continued to argue that the other Europeans not only wanted British leadership but also needed it. The possibility of unrest in France encouraged some in Britain to look to the opportunity this might offer. One of Macmillan’s advisors thought that the possibility of unrest in France and its ‘political weakness’ provided an opportunity for him ‘to carry the country forward on the basis of Britain saving Europe by joining it.’26 Wilson, then Shadow Chancellor, also argued in 1960 that ‘Europe is looking to Britain for leadership.’27 Such excessive hopes for Britain’s future role inside the EEC reflected the long-held belief in Britain’s superiority over the continental Europeans. Entering the negotiations with these illusions and misleading estimates of Britain’s relative position led the British to adopt tactics that proved difficult to hold onto as the talks progressed. As in previous exchanges with the other Europeans, the British overplayed their hand. Above all, Macmillan failed to take full account of de Gaulle’s determination to oppose Britain. Nor did he recognise the extent to which de Gaulle was now in a far stronger position than his predecessors in Paris. As the talks in Europe got underway, it soon became obvious that de Gaulle would be a formidable obstacle standing in Britain’s way. Entry and then leadership were set out as the British objectives. Beyond that, there was little consideration of what to do once these had been achieved. Where Britain wanted to lead Europe and the other Europeans to barely entered the debate. Looking back on these events, Hoyer-Miller recognised that there were no ‘clear, defined objectives’ in making the EEC application, ‘except to get closer to Europe.’ The objective was to prevent Britain ‘being kicked down really to a lower league.’ Entering the EEC was ‘a chance of saving a little of the position we’ve lost.’ If this opportunity was passed over, Britain would be ‘of no more account than a small peripheral European country.’ It had, therefore, ‘to hop on the bandwagon’28 before it was too late. Macmillan, whose task it was

112  EEC, FTA and ETFA to lead the way into the EEC, was uncertain about the chances of success. He noted in his diary: Shall we be caught between a hostile . . . America and a boastful, powerful ‘Empire of Charlemagne’ – now under French but later bound to come under German control. Is this the real reason for ‘joining the Common Market’ (if we are acceptable) and for abandoning a) the Seven b) British agriculture c) the Commonwealth. It’s a grim choice.29 European suspicions that Britain was seeking to enter the EEC to hold back its development, even to the point of destroying it from within, were corroborated by the discussions going on in London. The traditional British goal of maintaining a European balance to prevent power being concentrated in a single political unit under the sway of one power, condemned by some as a policy of ‘divide and rule,’ could still be seen in the supposedly new British approach to Europe in the early 1960s. Up until very shortly before the application was announced, the British Government had made it clear that they did not envisage entering the EEC in the near future. Macmillan and Heath, who later headed the British negotiation team, had explicitly ruled this out in 1960–61. Previous Governments had not hesitated when they stood aside from the two decisive European initiatives of the 1950s and this decision had been supported by a broad consensus across the country. Once the ECSC and then the EEC had got underway, British policy had taken a deliberately obstructionist attitude. Given this recent record, British claims that they wanted to lead Europe did not ring true. Nor had the fundamental reasons behind these previous policies changed. The EEC had not overnight become the model Europe that Britain was looking for. In fact, it had moved even further away from British preferences. The ‘special relationship’ with the United States retained its central place in British foreign policy, especially in the nuclear and defence fields. The Commonwealth may have been losing some of its appeal but it was still high up on Britain’s list of priorities. Sentimentally it still exercised a significant pull over the British. Ministers attempted to reassure everyone that the Commonwealth would never be abandoned. If it came down to entering the EEC or sticking with the Commonwealth, they repeatedly said, then the latter would be given priority. The British were still determined to avoid ever being faced with this choice. The moves towards Europe in 1961–63 were based on the premise that this was possible. Putting a more positive spin on this, several British diplomats argued that not only were Britain’s Commonwealth connections compatible with Europe but they were also mutually reinforcing: only by playing a leading role in Europe could Britain hold onto its position at the head of the Commonwealth; only British membership of the EEC could provide the commercial opportunities needed by the other Commonwealth countries. The same arguments were made, many years later, by Tony Blair. He had no more

EEC, FTA and ETFA  113 success in convincing Jacques Chirac of their validity than Macmillan had with de Gaulle. Macmillan was facing opposition to his EEC initiative as much at home as abroad. Without having first established a solid domestic base, he was setting out from an uncertain position. On the one hand, he saw British entry into the EEC as a potential means of reinvigorating his Party and the country. His hope was to achieve another electoral success in 1964 on the back of a great diplomatic victory in Europe. On the other hand, he faced widespread opposition to the very idea of EEC membership both from the opposition and from within his own Party, even from some of his closest colleagues in Government. As soon as Macmillan announced his intention of seeking entry into the EEC, the Labour opposition rounded on him for wanting to ‘sell our friends and kinsmen down the river for a problematical and marginal advantage in selling washing machines in Düsseldorf.’30 Similar expressions were repeated across the Commonwealth. The decision to seek entry into the EEC was not easily taken or with any real enthusiasm either in the Government or in the country. Like later British leaders, Macmillan was embarking on a mission in Europe while having to constantly look over his shoulder back home. All these elements meant that his room for manoeuvre in the talks with the Six was severely curtained. When Britain entered into what was to be a decisive battle in its bid to lead Europe, it came up against strong French opposition that was well set in a strategically advantageous position and whose forces were led with skill and determination by de Gaulle. Britain’s position was significantly weaker and its tactics and leadership less assured. Some of the British weaknesses were self-inflicted. The timing was unfortunate, although understandable. Macmillan had deferred taking his decision, partly as a result of his own hesitations but also for compelling political reasons. The lack of impetus in the application when it came was the result of a combination of indecision and the need to manage the dissident voices in Britain and the Commonwealth. The explanations for the delay were logical but the launch of the European campaign was, nonetheless, mistimed, coming too late to allow Macmillan to exploit the more favourable balance of forces that had existed in 1958 or 1960. The forces holding back the Macmillan Government from making an earlier and more determined application were numerous and perhaps unavoidable from the perspective of domestic politics. Had the British presented their application with greater conviction and earlier than July 1961, their position vis-à-vis the Six, and most significantly in the battle against de Gaulle, would undoubtedly have been far stronger and they would have stood a better chance of success. The talks that started with Britain’s declaration of intent to enter the EEC in July 1961 and which ended humiliatingly for them eighteen months later with de Gaulle’s veto were seen as the last chance for the British to enter and then shape it before it had gone too far in laying down its rules without them. The outcome of the struggle in 1961–63 was decisive for the future development of Britain’s troubled relations with the other Europeans.

114  EEC, FTA and ETFA Notes 1 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 353. 2 CAB 21/4414, 7 December 1960. 3 Beloff, General, 81. 4 Quoted in Griffiths, “Slow 180 Degree Turn,” 36. 5 Spaak, Combats, II, 83. 6 Macmillan, Riding the Storm, 455. 7 Barman, “Brussels Breakdown,” 366. 8 PREM 11/3001. 9 Macmillan, Pointing the Way, 55. 10 Catterall, Prime Minister, 231. 11 Horne, Macmillan, 257. 12 FO 371/145780, 19 November 1959. 13 PREM 11/2315, 24 June 1958. 14 Couve, Politique étrangère, 41. 15 Heath, Course, 207. 16 Couve, Politique étrangère, 385; Alphand, L’étonnement, 321. 17 Heath, Course, 207. 18 FO 371/153921, 3 October 1960. 19 FO 371/122034, 23 August 1956. Quoted in Gowland, Turner, and Wright, European Integration, 43. 20 Young, Blessed Plot, 128–30. 21 Quoted in Bogdanor, Troubled World, 22. 22 Quoted in Mangold, Impossible Ally, 151. 23 Quoted in Tombs, Sovereign Isle, 32. 24 Heath, Course, 209. 25 CAB 134/1852, 19 May 1960. 26 PREM 11/3339, 19 May 1961. 27 Quoted in Beloff, General, 91. 28 Charlton, Price of Victory, 304. 29 Catterall, Prime Minister, 313. 30 Young, Blessed Plot, 157.

References Alphand, Hervé. L’étonnement d’être. Journal, 1939–1973. Paris: Fayard, 1977. Barman, Thomas. “Behind the Brussels Breakdown.” International Affairs, 39, No. 3 (July 1963): 360–71. Beloff, Nora. The General Says No. London: Penguin, 1963. Bogdanor, Vernon. Britain and Europe in a Troubled World. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2020. Catterall, Peter, ed. The Macmillan Years. Prime Minister and After, 1957–1966. London: Macmillan, 2011. Charlton, Michael. The Price of Victory. London: BBC, 1983. Couve de Murville, Maurice. Une politique étrangère 1958–1969. Paris: Plon, 1971. Gowland, David, Turner, Arthur, and Wright, Alex. Britain and European Integration Since 1945: On the Sidelines. London: Routledge, 2009. Griffiths, Richard. “A  Slow One Hundred-and-Eighty Degree Turn: British Policy Towards the Common Market, 1955–60.” In Britain’s Failure to Enter the European

EEC, FTA and ETFA 115 Community 1961–1963. The Enlargement Negotiations and Crises in European, Atlantic and Commonwealth Relations, edited by George Wilkes, 35–50. London: Frank Cass, 1997. Heath, Edward. The Course of My Life. My Autobiography. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1998. Horne, Alistair. Macmillan. 1957–1986. London: Macmillan, 1989. Macmillan, Harold. Riding the Storm. 1956–1959. London: Macmillan, 1971. Macmillan, Harold. Pointing the Way. 1959–1961. London: Macmillan, 1972. Mangold, Peter. The Almost Impossible Ally. Harold Macmillan and Charles de Gaulle. London: I. B. Tauris, 2006. Peyrefitte, Alain. C’était de Gaulle. Tome 1: “La France redevient la France”. Paris: Fayard, 1994. Spaak, Paul-Henri. Combats inachevés. Tome 2: De l’espoir aux déceptions. Paris: Fayard, 1969. Tombs, Robert. This Sovereign Isle. Britain in and Out of Europe. London: Allen Lane, 2021. Warlouzet, Laurent. “De Gaulle as the Father of Europe: The Unpredictability of the FTA’s Failure and the EEC’s Success (1956–58).” Contemporary European History, 20, No. 4 (2011): 419–34. Young, Hugo. This Blessed Plot. Britain and Europe From Churchill to Blair. London: Macmillan, 1998.

9 Taking on de Gaulle

By the early 1960s, Europe had become one of the most divisive issues in British politics. In office, both Labour and the Conservatives wanted to be seen to be winning in Europe, outdoing each other in standing up to Britain’s foreign adversaries. In opposition, both used it to score political points. Accusations of having mismanaged the negotiations in Europe, of having given way to the other Europeans, became the norm. De Gaulle’s stronger domestic power base allowed him more freedom of manoeuvre, particularly from 1962 onwards. His position was weakened during the events of May 1968 but by then Britain’s own decline had been such that they were unable to turn this to their advantage. The British entered the negotiations in Brussels with numerous handicaps. The need to tread carefully in order to avoid alienating Britain’s uneasy Commonwealth partners meant that concessions on the key question of agriculture would always be problematic. Similar needs to satisfy the uncertain British public, the Conservative Party and Parliament acted as further brakes. Macmillan, like all other British Prime Ministers before and after, was entering into these negotiations in Europe with a weak home base. It was difficult to convince the British public, MPs and even some of his colleagues in his Cabinet that the EEC, as it existed in the early 1960s, was the sort of structure that the country needed. A Europe that was protectionist for agriculture and free-market for industry was the opposite of what many people in Britain wanted to see. Several Conservative MPs were opposed outright to British entry, especially those whose constituencies included a large farming community. Across the country, there was widespread disinterest in Europe and little understanding of what it all meant. The general public remained wary and was unlikely to offer encouragement to Macmillan’s European initiative. The weakness of the British position was compounded by the strength of the opposition they faced, notably from de Gaulle. The decisive factor tipping the balance against the British was that while they wanted something from de Gaulle who had a good deal to offer, inversely, de Gaulle wanted far less from the British and they had very little to propose in exchange. Macmillan told the French Ambassador that it was essential for their two countries to work together in Europe and that the history of Europe DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-9

Taking on de Gaulle 117 in the twentieth century had shown that ‘things had gone well . . . when this (Anglo-French) understanding had existed.’1 There existed a broad ‘community of interests’2 between the two countries that each of them, in varying degrees, recognised. The problem remained how to transform this into a specific agreement and how to overcome the mutual distrust that was so deeply embedded on both sides. It was clearly understood in London that Britain would be entering a hostile terrain on which they would have to confront French opposition. Heath summed this up at the height of the negotiations in May 1962. De Gaulle, he said, ‘hated the United States and disliked the U.K. He believed that the U.K. was subservient to the United States and therefore feared the role which the British might play in the Six. We seemed to him a Trojan Horse.’ With a small Community, de Gaulle could ‘hope to dominate (and) achieve the conquest of Germany which Louis XIV and Richelieu had never got’ but if Britain entered the ‘dream of French domination would disappear because at least the smaller countries and probably Germany would prefer some degree of British leadership to French domination.’3 This and other such analyses of French intentions were close to the truth but they were also one-sided. British condemnations of France’s ambitions to dominate Europe were compared to their own more reputable plans, not to dominate but to lead Europe. The French saw things differently. One side’s idea of leadership could easily be interpreted by the other as its domination. In reality, Britain’s objectives in Europe did not greatly differ from de Gaulle’s. In some ways, the Anglo-French rivalry existed as an objective in itself, fuelled by the never-ending mutual suspicions and jealousies. Equally importantly, the two sides entered the negotiations with the same diverging geostrategic ideas of Europe that had set them at odds so often in the past. Once again, they found themselves talking at cross purposes. Macmillan’s ideas of interdependence were simply not part of the Gaullist lexicon. Initial British attitudes towards the EEC had only reinforced de Gaulle’s suspicions of British intentions. He gave little credence to London’s claims in the 1960s that times had changed, and that British feelings towards the Continent had changed with them. He thought that future British generations would one day perhaps be sufficiently European to allow them to enter the EEC but, in the meantime, it was still the same old Britain that he saw. European plans and grand designs While the talks were getting underway in Brussels, a parallel set of negotiations was taking place to discuss de Gaulle’s proposition to create a political union among the Six. This so-called Fouchet Plan, named after the French diplomat who chaired the discussions, put forward proposals for a new set of European structures along exclusively intergovernmental lines. The decisive role was accorded to a Council composed of the European heads of state or government.

118  Taking on de Gaulle Votes would be taken unanimously, retaining the right for each member state to impose its veto should it consider that its vital interests were at stake. The roles of the European Assembly and Commission were to be strictly limited. It was unclear whether the new institutions would act as a complement to those already existing in the EEC or whether they would absorb them into an entirely new body. In either case, the proposals would have radically transformed Europe. Reactions to the plan were mixed. In the face of opposition from the Benelux countries, de Gaulle initially sought to compromise to keep his plan alive but then changed tack in a second version that reinforced the very points that had been so badly received in the previous one. In particular, the Fouchet Plan II proposed that the new European Political Union would take over the economic powers of the existing Communities. It also removed any reference to working with NATO. In taking this new hard line, it was unclear if de Gaulle was attempting to impose his views on the Five or if he had already accepted that his ideas would never be acceptable to his partners. The reactions to the revised plan, particularly in Belgium and the Netherlands, were predictably negative. Coming at the same time as increasing evidence of French obstruction in the talks with the British in Brussels, there was growing resistance to de Gaulle’s plans for Europe. Luns and Spaak took the lead both in opposing de Gaulle in the Fouchet Committee and by encouraging a more favourable EEC reaction to Britain’s application. In their view, if there had to be a Europe des nations as de Gaulle was demanding, then they would insist that Britain be part of it. As Luns put it, ‘if you want an English Europe, at least do it with the English.’4 Spaak became a bête noire of the French who accused him of being particularly intransigent. The contradictions in this ad hoc alliance between the British, Belgians and Dutch were obvious given their very different views on Europe. The contradictions in de Gaulle’s European ambitions were equally evident. French leadership of Europe needed the adhesion of the other Europeans. Should they refuse to be led then this would inevitably fail to materialise. Yet these very allies were to be somehow dismissed and their opinions and preferences ignored. De Gaulle himself soon became disillusioned with what he regarded as the insufficiently European attitudes of the others in the Six, and following the collapse of the Fouchet Plan in April 1962, he intensified his attacks on what he saw as the technocratic federalist approach and the ‘incorrigible cultists of the school of Jean Monnet.’5 The British had not been part of the Fouchet discussions although they were directly concerned. There was some sympathy in London for the model of Europe being put forward by de Gaulle but at the same time fears that his plans would lead to a European political union under French leadership. For some French observers, the Fouchet plan was a missed opportunity to create an integrated Europe with a genuinely European identity, a project that was sunk by the Belgians and the Dutch and indirectly by the British. Others saw it as a blatant French attempt to impose its leadership on the others in Europe, even against

Taking on de Gaulle 119 their will, to marginalise the existing EEC structures and break Europe away from the Atlantic Alliance. Ominously for the British, the reaction of de Gaulle and Adenauer to the collapse of the Fouchet Plan was to reinforce the FrancoGerman entente as the future basis of Europe, arguing that a tight Franco-German partnership would be no less powerful than a less cohesive Europe of the Six. The other Europeans, it was calculated, would have no choice but to follow along behind. This had a direct bearing on the discussions going on in Brussels and on Britain’s hopes to enter the EEC. Again, the pivotal role was being played by West Germany and by its Chancellor. Unfortunately for the British, his focus was increasingly on the Franco-German relationship, not on Britain. Building Europe on a joint Franco-German basis, he said in the wake of the Fouchet Plan, was ‘preferable . . . to allowing Britain to become the arbiter of Europe.’ More worrying still for the British was his view that ‘Britain’s entire policy towards the EEC’ was, at the end of the day, based on one thing only: that ‘England could not bear that France was the dominant power.’ It was, he concluded, ‘the classic English game on the continent: divide et impera.’6 The strengthening of relations between Paris and Bonn was a serious setback for the British. They could, nonetheless, still hope to mobilise support from elsewhere in the EEC and from the United States. On 4 July 1962, President Kennedy set out his ‘Grand Design’ for the future of trans-Atlantic relations. Its focus on the interdependence between the United States and a Europe enlarged to include Britain was, as Nora Beloff wrote, ‘highly gratifying’ to Macmillan whereas for de Gaulle, ‘whose whole purpose in creating Europe was to throw off American shackles, it was the exact opposite.’7 In a similar fashion, de Gaulle saw the 1962 American Trade Expansion Act and its offer to lower tariffs on both sides of the Atlantic as a further challenge to his plans to Europeanise Europe. This was welcomed in London but regarded with deep suspicion by the Government in Paris which feared that it would lead to European markets being flooded with American agricultural surpluses and expose European firms to a level of competition that they were unlikely to survive. For one French observer, Washington’s proposal was for an alliance ‘between a wolf and a ewe.’8 De Gaulle interpreted these American offers of trade concessions to the EEC, on condition that Britain was accepted as a member, as further evidence of an Anglo-American combination aiming to undermine France. De Gaulle’s misgivings about the Americans were increasingly shared by Adenauer. Although there could be no question in Bonn of seriously destabilising the Alliance as a whole, there was a growing unease at the direction being taken in Washington. Adenauer had little confidence in the Kennedy administration and had serious concerns about its willingness to compromise over Berlin. The new American policy of ‘flexible response’ in the event of Soviet aggression added to these feelings. As the confidence between Adenauer and de Gaulle grew, with Adenauer falling ‘increasingly under the great man’s spell,’9 so too did their shared mistrust of London and Washington.

120  Taking on de Gaulle Negotiations in Brussels The negotiations between Britain and the EEC were complex and multidimensional involving numerous actors and covering a wide variety of fields. Questions of agriculture, trade, international relations, defence and nuclear weapons all interacted. Inside each country, there were competing, sometimes contradictory, voices jockeying for position. There was bargaining and haggling over even minor details but not always a clear overall vision. Above all, the necessary political will on all sides to achieve a breakthrough was lacking. While the technical details were being dealt with in Brussels, the more strategic issues were discussed at high-level meetings between the principal national leaders, Macmillan, de Gaulle and Adenauer, with Kennedy playing a supporting role. From the outset, it was clear that this would be a battle between Britain and France. The language employed reflected this. Reports sent back to London from the British delegation in Brussels were frequently couched in terms of defeats, retreats and occasional victories. Later accounts continued with the war-like theme with Macmillan compared to ‘a cruiser – fast, manoeuvrable but lightly armed’ and de Gaulle to ‘a battleship – more ponderous, but heavily gunned.’10 In his opening statement in Brussels, Heath attempted to convince the Six of the sincerity of Britain’s application and he committed Britain, in principle, to accepting both the common external tariff and the CAP although, as it soon became evident as the talks got underway, this was qualified in numerous ways. These same issues remained at the centre of the negotiations throughout the following eighteen months. The starting point was not favourable for Britain. The EEC was now up and running and although much had still to be decided its main lines had been set out and the details were being filled in, particularly those relating to the financial arrangements for the CAP. The French were determined that a deal should be reached on this before the talks with Britain entered their decisive phase. Britain, therefore, would have to enter a Europe whose broad outlines were already in place. Many of these were not those that the British would have wanted. There were now no others on offer. The debate turned around how far these provisions could be revised and what exemptions might be accorded to Britain. The reaction of the EEC Commission to the British application was mixed. In one way, it was flattered that new members wished to join. That the EEC was attracting countries outside was taken as a sign of its success. On the other hand, the Commission feared the disruption that enlargement would cause. In this sense, the British application was seen as a nuisance and as a distraction from other outstanding issues faced by the Six. When it became clear that the British would seek substantial modifications to the existing EEC rules, the Commission saw this as weakening the progress achieved so far. If the Commission was unlikely to be of any help to the British in the negotiations, Britain still hoped that the Five would offer their support. In fact, given previous British

Taking on de Gaulle 121 attitudes towards European integration, there was a good deal of mistrust of the British. Initial reactions in Paris, however, were not as negative as the British expected. Couve, who was never thought of as a friend in London, spoke favourably of British participation in Europe in a speech in March 1961. De Gaulle too seemed to be open to the idea of British entry. In a personal letter to Macmillan in December 1961, he expressed his wish that Britain ‘could one day join our organisation on the same conditions as those we found ourselves in.’11 He told Dixon the following May that he ‘was not hostile to Britain’s entry in the Common Market’ although he added that some ‘very serious obstacles appeared to work against this.’12 Others in France adopted a more intransigent approach. There was less inconsistency between the various French pronouncements than there seemed at first sight. Opposition to Britain was not absolute. Indeed, it was repeatedly stated that Britain would be welcome. But only on the condition that she signed up to all the terms of the Treaty of Rome. The question, therefore, was less one of ‘Europe, yes or no’ but rather one of what Europe was on offer, what Europe would be acceptable to the various parties. The French continued to blow hot and cold, leaving the British uncertain as to their exact intentions. This was a deliberate tactic adopted by the French. The Quai d’Orsay advised that while Macmillan would ‘look to understand . . . the real position of France with regard to the British request. . . . Our interest . . . is to leave (him) in doubt.’13 This fitted in perfectly with de Gaulle’s own belief in keeping his cards close to his chest and in giving away as little information as possible. The French strategy achieved its aim of confusing, even mystifying, the British, leaving them, according to Dixon, ‘rather baffled.’14 Had Britain taken a more decisive move towards Europe at an earlier stage and been willing to sign up to the Treaty of Rome, there would have been few obstacles in the way to British entry and no justifications for any French blocking tactics. It was also probable that de Gaulle, however reluctantly, would have accepted Britain inside the EEC on these terms. The British, however, were not in a position to take such a direct approach. The numerous conditions and exceptions to the existing rules that they felt obliged to demand made French obstruction all the easier. French opposition was never far beneath the surface and needed no encouragement from the British. In August 1960, Alain Peyrefitte, De Gaulle’s Minister of Information, had already outlined this policy. The British, he wrote, ‘must be forced into a situation where they have to choose between joining the union of six without restrictions, or remaining on the sidelines while no longer being able to complain about being excluded.’ His prediction was that, forced into making this choice, the British would ‘persist in remaining apart.’ This was precisely what France was aiming for. At the same time by overtly adopting pro-European rhetoric in defence of the existing EEC, France could show itself as the true European, even if this did not reflect its true intentions. This, Peyrefitte said, would ‘effectively turn the tables’ on the British.15 When this leaked document was published in the Belgian press early in 1963, it was

122  Taking on de Gaulle taken by many as further proof of the cynicism of French policy. For de Gaulle and his followers, it was no more than an expression of a natural realpolitik. Reactions in Paris The Quai d’Orsay’s reaction to the announcement that Britain would seek to open negotiations with the Six showed no sign of wanting in any way to smooth Britain’s path. With seven or more members, French diplomats warned, the EEC would be transformed and would quite probably disappear. ‘The political balance would be entirely modified,’ they predicted. The primacy of French influence could not be maintained. At best the FrancoGerman conjunction that has existed so far would be replaced by a FrancoBritish rivalry (with the Germans trying to play the role of arbiter). On many questions the Germans would line up behind the British way of thinking. Britain’s entry into the EEC, along with its ‘European and non-European clients,’ would mean that it ‘would quickly slide into some sort of vague Atlantic community,’ operating on ‘a worldwide scale.’ An enlarged EEC, they warned, ‘would quickly return to a position where Washington and London were predominant.’16 Couve similarly argued that Britain, if it agreed to the Treaty of Rome in its entirety, could not be kept out but British membership would be the end of Europe, or at least of the Gaullist Europe that he was defending. De Gaulle, in typically martial style, saw a British attempt to create a ‘breach’ in the existing European arrangements as part of a ‘renewed offensive’ that was seeking to ‘paralyse’ or ‘torpedo’17 Europe. France, he promised, would put up the strongest possible resistance. The language used in London was less strident but the analysis was the same. Naturally, their EEC application was presented not as a danger to be resisted but as a positive development that should be welcomed by all. The initially mixed messages coming out of France suggested that a successful outcome for the Brussels negotiations could still be achieved. The tide, however, was turning in France’s favour. In April 1962, de Gaulle reminded his Ministers of the aggressive posture adopted by the British during the first months of his presidency when Macmillan had told him that Britain ‘had waged war for twenty-three years during your Revolution and your Empire . . . to prevent the union of the Europeans.’ He returned to the same theme some weeks later in buoyant mood. ‘What an evolution since then,’ he triumphantly declared. England was ready to attack. Macmillan considered the European Community to be an act of war. . . . He spoke of breaking it up. . . . In 1958 he displayed fierce hostility towards the Common Market and wanted to drown it in a large free trade area.

Taking on de Gaulle  123 He had adopted a similarly hostile attitude towards the Fouchet Plan. Now, four years later, he had been forced to give all this up. De Gaulle’s satisfaction at having turned the situation around was obvious. It was a ‘real rout!’, he exclaimed. Macmillan ‘has lost all hope of sinking the Common Market.’18 De Gaulle was now supremely confident in France’s ability to block any British attempts to seize the leadership of Europe. His growing self-assurance contrasted with the despondency spreading across the Government in London. The reports from the French Embassy of British decline, the domestic troubles facing Macmillan and the numerous ways in which his hands were tied by the widespread opposition to his European policies reinforced the sentiment that the Anglo-French balance was shifting significantly in France’s favour. While the British negotiators struggled with the numerous and often contradictory pressures on them, the French could confidently pursue their delaying tactics. British suspicions that the French were deliberately seeking to drag out the talks in Brussels in the hope that Britain’s resolve would waver, and that opposition to the whole idea of entry would increase once the terms and conditions on offer became known, were entirely justified. Biding their time was the best option for the French. The failure to reach a deal before the summer recess in August 1962 left Britain in a diplomatic no-man’s-land, unable to move forward but unwilling to retreat. Harold Evans, Macmillan’s press secretary, concluded that the French had ‘succeeded in sabotaging the EEC negotiations.’19 Macmillan protested a few months later that the French were opposing British entry by ‘every means, fair and foul’ and dominating the Five by ‘their intellectual superiority, and spiritual arrogance, and shameful disregard of truth and honour.’20 Anglo-French summits, disputes and possible deals As the talks in Brussels got bogged down in technical details, Macmillan attempted to take the fight directly to the French in a series of head-to-head talks with de Gaulle. The first of these took place at Macmillan’s home at Birch Grove in November 1961. Unlike Adenauer, Macmillan never enjoyed a return invitation to see de Gaulle at Colombey-les-deux-Eglises. De Gaulle gave nothing away at this meeting, repeating his view that it would be possible for Britain to enter the EEC but if it did so ‘it would not be Europe.’ He conceded that the British had a ‘long history as Europeans’ and he remembered that in the recent past Britain ‘alone had personified’ Europe. They ‘must be part of Europe,’ he concluded, before adding further cryptic references to Britain’s links to the nonEuropean world.21 As de Gaulle had intended, all of this left Macmillan with no clearer idea of French intentions. The discussions resumed in June at the Château de Champs outside Paris where Macmillan ‘went on the emotional offensive,’22 once again attempting to convince de Gaulle of Britain’s commitment to Europe. In reply, de Gaulle assured his guest that at ‘the decisive moments,’

124  Taking on de Gaulle the French had ‘greater confidence in (the British) than in the Germans or the Italians,’23 but on the immediate question of British entry into the EEC, he continued to refuse to commit himself one way or another. Macmillan was left in the dark once again. The superficial cordiality of these exchanges could not disguise the deep rivalry that remained the essential condition of the two countries’ relationship. Before the meeting at Champs, Macmillan was seen ‘rereading War and Peace; when asked why he replied, only half-joking, “It’s instructive to see how another French general was defeated!” ’24 In a sudden outburst during their meeting, Macmillan replied to one of de Gaulle’s remarks: ‘let’s have a war then’ although this might not have been quite as angry as it sounded. De Gaulle later ‘ribbed him by talking of his calm soul and his not being the kind of man who went into tantrums.’25 Macmillan remained convinced that de Gaulle’s primary motivation was to maintain Europe as ‘a nice little club, not too big, not too small, under French hegemony.’26 The discussions in Brussels continued to centre on the three principal areas of discord, the Commonwealth, agriculture and the concomitant question of the budget. For the French, the CAP had been a prerequisite to accepting the Treaty of Rome and they were determined to fight hard to hold onto it. Reaching a final agricultural settlement before Britain entered the EEC and launched an attack to water down the CAP was a key French objective. This was achieved, along lines that were mostly favourable to French interests, in January 1962 after a long and acrimonious debate. Under the agreement levies on agricultural imports would go to finance the EEC, 80% of whose budget was to cover the costs of the CAP. Under this system, large food importers of food such as Britain would pay the most while food producers such as France would benefit from the preferential treatment for their exports and the guaranteed prices for their farmers. Meanwhile, in Brussels, the French were digging their heels in, ruling out major concessions to the British demands that the Commonwealth be granted special treatment. A compromise remained elusive. For France, defending its agricultural sector was an essential component of the European system; industrial free trade was a lesser concern. The inverse was true for Britain. British concerns for farmers in the Commonwealth, and for the interests of British consumers, were not those of France. Likewise, French farmers never enjoyed any sympathy in London. Britain initially hoped that the two sides might agree on some form of ‘comparable outlets’ for Commonwealth food exports under which any decrease in sales in British markets would be compensated for by equivalent sales in those of the Six. If these concessions were made to the Commonwealth, then the Six, in return, would ask for advantages in the Commonwealth markets on the same terms as those enjoyed by the British. Neither side was willing to give ground. Allowing a long transitional period before Britain applied the common external tariff to allow time for the British and Commonwealth to adapt

Taking on de Gaulle 125 was ruled out by the Six who insisted that this should come into force in 1970 for Britain and the existing EEC members alike. Although divergences existed between the various EEC delegations, the British were faced with a relatively solid front in Brussels. Their attempts to create a breach between the Six were unsuccessful. In the face of French intransigence, and with no more than halfhearted support from the others, the British were gradually forced to abandon many of the negotiating positions they had taken at the start of the talks. How much ground they should be prepared to concede and how quickly they should do this was the subject of a good deal of debate in London. In particular, there were serious rifts over how far they should be tied down by their Commonwealth commitments. Given the constraints within which the Government was operating, these concessions were never easy to make. Equally, the CAP was always difficult to defend before a hostile British public used to cheap food imports. Nor did the prospect of importing continental food greatly appeal to the majority of British consumers. There was also the thorny question of how the existing system of support for British farmers could be adapted to the quite different systems that existed on the Continent or those that were being put in place as part of the CAP. The one area where the British might have had something to offer that de Gaulle wanted was in the field of nuclear weapons. This question was central to de Gaulle’s plans for France and it was one where the British held a potentially decisive advantage in terms of both the weapons themselves and their delivery systems. An offer here might conceivably persuade de Gaulle to come to an agreement and unblock the impasse in Brussels. However, Britain’s hands were tied given that much of this technology came directly from the United States and was not theirs to offer. How far Britain went in suggesting a nuclear deal remains unsure. The idea of tempting de Gaulle with help for the French nuclear programme had been under discussion in London for some time and several Ministers had expressed their willingness to consider this. Ministerial talks were held with the French on this question. The idea was put to de Gaulle but in an elliptical fashion. At Champs, Macmillan told de Gaulle that he shared his doubts about the credibility of the American nuclear commitment to Western Europe and that ‘some European deterrent was therefore perhaps necessary’27 but without going any further. The Americans, for their part, showed no inclination to help out the British by agreeing to a transfer of nuclear technology to France as part of a deal on British entry into the EEC. The Foreign Office was also strongly opposed. Some versions, including de Gaulle’s own accounts, indicate that he felt let down by Macmillan’s failure to follow through with the idea of an Anglo-French nuclear arrangement. Other accounts argued that he had been misled by Macmillan’s lack of clarity. De Gaulle himself, however, also affirmed that he had ‘asked for nothing, in any domain, atomic weapons, reactors etc.’ France, he said, ‘could build by itself the necessary force.’28

126  Taking on de Gaulle Rambouillet showdown The various threads of all these talks came together in what was to be the final meeting between de Gaulle and Macmillan at Rambouillet in December 1962. The various accounts of the meeting do not always coincide, most controversially on the differing interpretations of what was said about a possible nuclear deal. Sensing that the chances of a successful resolution of the talks in Brussels were slipping away, Macmillan raised the stakes. He began by trying to convince de Gaulle that Britain’s nuclear force would remain truly independent even if much of the technology was provided by the Americans. This, he said, ‘would not prevent Britain and France from building their nuclear force together, in the same way as they were working together on Concorde.’ Once Britain had entered the EEC, he suggested that Britain and France ‘should consider the organisation of a strategic European command.’ These assurances came too late to convince de Gaulle of Britain’s genuine commitment to Europe. Britain, he replied, remained too closely tied to the Americans. The failure of progress in the talks in Brussels, he said, was not due to the technical problems or French obstinacy but to Britain’s ‘particularism’; Britain had taken some significant steps towards Europe but still had some way to go before becoming truly European.29 Using such elementary arguments to justify keeping Britain out of the EEC left Macmillan dismayed but powerless to respond. All he could say, not unreasonably, was that this was ‘a fundamental objection of principle to the British application’ that ‘should have been put forward at the very start.’30 Macmillan had tried hard to reach a deal, possibly a nuclear one, but any expectation that there could be a give-and-take policy with de Gaulle came to nothing. His somewhat desperate hope that something still might turn up, that there might be a ‘European El Alamein, a sudden turn of events’31 that would open the door to the EEC, never materialised. The nuclear deal reached between Macmillan and Kennedy at Nassau in the Bahamas a few days later provided Britain with the most up-to-date delivery systems for their nuclear deterrent. A similar offer to supply American Polaris missiles was made to France although this was of little value given that France, unlike Britain, was not able to build the warheads which could be used in them. Rather than winning over de Gaulle, the offer only reinforced his conviction that the British would never be able to break away from American tutelage. The Anglo-American agreement, de Gaulle scathingly noted, tied Britain hand and foot to the Americans, decisive proof that Britain would continue to look across the Atlantic rather than to the Continent for its most vital needs. The French, he said, would not take the same American nuclear ‘bait’ or fall into the same American ‘trap.’32 Up to the last moment, there were still mixed messages coming out of Paris. Macmillan despondently noted that de Gaulle did not want Britain in the EEC ‘because he is in a mood of sulks about the future of Europe politically and

Taking on de Gaulle 127 would prefer to stay where he is with France dominating the Five.’33 Couve, on the other hand, was reported as saying shortly after that there were no ‘insuperable political obstacles’ to British entry and that ‘No power on earth can now prevent these negotiations from being successful.’34 Other reports from Paris said that de Gaulle had ‘neither the power nor the intention to veto UK membership of the EEC.’35 In his end-of-year message, de Gaulle himself listed among the objectives for the coming year the creation of a Europe that would be ‘ready in the future to welcome in an England that would be able and willing to join Europe permanently and unreservedly.’36 It remained to be seen if the England he had in mind could possibly emerge one day. De Gaulle’s verdict By the beginning of 1963, de Gaulle’s decision to bring the Brussels negotiations to an end had been taken. Some in Britain argued that this was precisely because the talks were nearing a positive outcome. Others, mostly in France, argued that, on the contrary, the talks were getting nowhere and that the time had come to accept that they were doomed to fail. Whatever his motives, de Gaulle’s position was now sufficiently strong for him to be able to launch his attack on Britain: He now had an absolutely secure base in France. He had carefully covered his flank by reinforcing his ties with West Germany. (If by chance he was thinking in terms of a replay of Waterloo, then he had ensured that Blücher had changed sides) . . . (he) had made sure of his allies. . . . He was ready to deal with the British. . . . The time had come for de Gaulle to unmask his guns. It was the withering verbal broadside which he delivered at his press conference.37 De Gaulle’s announcement on 14 January at the Elysée Palace, before an assembly of journalists, diplomats, politicians and other dignitaries, that he was no longer prepared to continue the talks in Brussels was delivered in his most imperious style. The tone of the message addressed to the British was condescending. The offer of some sort of association with the EEC which accompanied the veto was not seriously made, nor was it expected to be taken up. The British regarded it as adding insult to injury. De Gaulle’s personal satisfaction was obvious. All he could add at the end of his last meeting with ‘poor old Macmillan,’ he told his Ministers, was to quote the lines from Edith Piaf’s song: ‘Ne pleurez pas milord.’38 This unusually light-hearted aside masked harsher, somewhat punitive, sentiments. It is possible to read into all de Gaulle’s public and private words a deliberate attempt to humiliate the British, to take his revenge after years of suffering British domination and to show that it was France that now had the upper hand. De Gaulle’s memories and resentment at his past

128  Taking on de Gaulle treatment at the hands of the ‘Anglo-Saxons’ showed through. At Rambouillet, he had once again gone back to Churchill’s 1944 declaration of preference for the open seas over the Continent and for Roosevelt over de Gaulle. Some observers thought that de Gaulle wanted to repay not only his own personal mistreatment during the War but also more distant national grievances. At Rambouillet, de Gaulle had also explicitly returned to the question of leadership in Europe explaining to Macmillan that In the Six as they existed France had some weight and could say no even against the Germans. France could stop policies with which she disagreed because in the Six she had a very strong position. Once the United Kingdom and the Scandinavians and the rest had entered the organisation things would be different.39 Macmillan in his memoirs quoted Pisani’s more colourful portrayal of the situation. The present Europe of the Six, he said, was comparable to having one cock and five hens, a future Europe including Britain would have perhaps seven or eight hens but also two cocks. This, he concluded, would not be ‘so pleasant.’40 Reactions to the veto For some in Britain, the one positive outcome of the events of December–January was the way in which these had reinforced the ties between Britain and its allies in the Five and the United States. This hardly compensated for the more obvious downsides of its exclusion from the European mainstream. Nor had British policies during the Brussels talks entirely convinced the other Europeans of Britain’s commitment to Europe. The talks in Rambouillet and then at Nassau had shown the greater ease with which the British could work with the Americans than with the French, their confidence with the former and intense and increasing mistrust of the latter. Renewed expressions in favour of the ‘special relationship’ coming out of Washington provided some comfort to British leaders but they did nothing to advance British interests in Europe where the ‘Anglo-Saxons’’ solidarity continued to arouse suspicions. The immediate reactions outside France showed intense anger towards de Gaulle and sympathy for the British. Spaak declared that it was now impossible to have any faith in de Gaulle. Schröder, the West German Foreign Minister, continued to express support for British entry although reactions elsewhere in West Germany remained relatively muted. De Gaulle recognised that ‘All France’s partners have sided with Britain . . . the common front of the Six was now the Five and England. Now we are the seventh, the black sheep.’41 This did not unduly worry him. From the United States, Kennedy sought to reassure Macmillan of his continued support for the ‘special relationship’ and promised to back him up in any moves

Taking on de Gaulle 129 he took against de Gaulle but he quickly accepted the fait accompli. Privately he recognised that an enlarged EEC would have been bad for the United States’ commercial interests and that their chief European aim of tying West Germany into the Western camp would still be assured by an EEC without Britain. French opponents of de Gaulle added their voices to the general condemnation without this causing him any undue worries. His Ministers were surprised and somewhat shocked at the brutal manner in which the veto had been delivered but offered no opposition. French public opinion remained largely unmoved. The reactions from the British victims of de Gaulle’s diplomatic thunderbolt were a mixture of rage, frustration and despondency. Christopher Soames, who was in a meeting in Brussels when news of the veto came through, vented his fury on Pisani, his French counterpart, in the strongest language. He ‘went red in the face,’ ‘swore,’ and ‘cursed’ Pisani when he was informed of the veto, believing, wrongly, that he must have known beforehand what de Gaulle was about to announce.42 Macmillan gloomily noted in his diary: All our policies at home and abroad are in ruins. . . . European unity is no more; French domination of Europe is the new and alarming feature; our popularity as a Government is rapidly declining. We have lost everything, except our courage and determination. . . . French duplicity has defeated us all. . . . At home, there is the return of the old feeling ‘the French always betray you in the end.’43 The veto constituted an undeniable and serious reverse for British foreign policy and its leadership ambitions in Europe. The British were left floundering. Joining the EEC was supposed to have been Macmillan’s ace card but this had been trumped by de Gaulle. Saving face and placing the blame The last-minute attempts to salvage the situation were not followed through by the British, to Spaak’s disappointment. Instead, the British looked to ensure the most favourable form of breakdown, one that clearly placed responsibility on de Gaulle and which would allow Britain to maintain its cooperation with the Five and keep them onside for any future challenge to de Gaulle’s leadership of Europe. Placing the blame on de Gaulle was also a way for British leaders to play down their own failures. The easiest, and most comforting, explanation was found in the intransigence of the French. The manner in which de Gaulle announced his decision made it easier for the British to portray him as the guilty party and to use him as a scapegoat. Arguing that he had been determined to obstruct the British path to Europe from the outset offered a convenient but not altogether convincing account of events. It was the choice of British decision-makers to delay the application and their unwillingness to accept the

130  Taking on de Gaulle need for timely concessions during the talks that held up progress. This, as much as French inflexibility, was at the root of the failure to unblock the situation. Macmillan’s refusal to work towards a cross-party consensus on Europe made him an easy target for the opposition’s attacks. Success in Europe would have been a great personal and party success but it had always been a high-risk policy. His defeat at the hands of de Gaulle ruined the end of his career. Several of his successors in Downing Street were to meet a similar fate for much the same reasons. For Peter Mangold, ‘Macmillan had been outwitted by one of the most formidable and ruthless operators on the international stage’; he had been ‘outclassed.’44 Other historians have pointed to Macmillan’s misjudgements, arguing that the possibilities for an agreement with France were there but had not been taken.45 De Gaulle had not been entirely opposed to British entry into the EEC. Had Britain moved towards Europe with more conviction, and more quickly, the obstacles could have been surmounted. What was really in de Gaulle’s mind remains as unsure today as it was to most of those who dealt with him at the time. Various records suggest that he was open to a deal with the British. Some very tentative moves were made in this direction, but if de Gaulle had been waiting for an explicit offer from London, it never came. De Gaulle remained unperturbed, believing that the crisis that he had set off with his veto of the British application would blow over. ‘The Anglo-Saxons,’ he said, ‘have understood that they can do nothing against us.’ The whole world had been in uproar. The Five, the British and the Americans had outdone each other in their ‘hysteria’ but they had finally calmed down. The ‘debate was now closed’ and Britain remained outside.46 His calculation that the Five’s attachment to the EEC would hold them back from bringing any serious pressure to bear on France was confirmed. De Gaulle waited for the crisis to pass. He accepted that Britain would one day enter Europe but after he had gone and only once it had given up its particular relations with the United States and the Commonwealth. For the moment, he could only say how ‘saddened’ he was to see ‘England moving towards the United States’ and ‘behaving like their travelling salesman.’47 De Gaulle could be satisfied with his success in blocking the British move but he had done less to actually advance France’s position. His own account was that his veto of the British application had ‘saved the Common Market from wandering down a road that led nowhere.’48 Nora Beloff concluded that the French had, in fact, ‘forfeited their leading role inside the Community by quarrelling with all their allies.’49 De Gaulle had been an obstruction, not a leader. It was a Pyrrhic victory. Notes

1 FO 371/172079, 9 May 1962. 2 FO 371/163494, 9 January 1962. 3 Quoted in Grob-Fitzgibbon, Continental Drift, 287. 4 La Serre and Wallace, “Conflits et Convergences,” 135. 5 Burin, Retour, 52.

Taking on de Gaulle  131 6 Adenauer, Mémoires, III, 337. 7 Beloff, General, 152. 8 Massip, De Gaulle et l’Europe, 110. 9 Gladwyn, De Gaulle’s Europe, 57–58. 10 Bell, Long Separation, 190. 11 De Gaulle, Lettres, 432. 12 DDF, 1962, I, Doc. 160, 23 May 1962. 13 DDF, 1962, I, Doc. 168, 1 June 1962. 14 Quoted in Mangold, Impossible Ally, 173. 15 Quoted in Van den Eynde, “European Tactics.” 16 MAE, Carton 1739. Série 16, 28 August 1961. 17 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 304; De Gaulle, Renouveau, 200. 18 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 300. 19 Evans, Downing Street, 210–11. 20 Quoted in Mangold, Impossible Ally, 183. 21 DDF, 1961, I, Doc.192, 24–25 November 1961. 22 Mangold, Impossible Ally, 173. 23 DDF, 1962, I, Doc.172, 2 June 1962. 24 Horne, Macmillan, 326. 25 Evans, Downing Street, 174. 26 Catterall, Prime Minister, 475. 27 PREM 11/3775. June 3, 1962. 28 Alphand, L’étonnement, 311. 29 DDF, 1962, II, Doc. 200, 15–16 December 1962. 30 PREM 11/4230. 31 Kaiser, “Laggard to Leader,” 267. 32 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 345. 33 Quoted in Heath, Course, 228. 34 Heath, Course, 228–29. 35 CAB 128/37, CC5(63), 22 January 1963. 36 Passeron, De Gaulle parle, 263–64. 37 Bell, Long Separation, 194, 199. 38 Passeron, De Gaulle parle, 263. 39 PREM 11/4230. 40 Macmillan, End of the Day, 365. 41 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 369. 42 Pisani, Général indivis, 106–7. 43 Macmillan, End of the Day, 367–68. 44 Mangold, Impossible Ally, 222. 45 Adamthwaite, Britain, France and Europe, 142–46; Milward, National Strategy, 463–83; Ludlow, “Mismanaged Application,” 271; Kaiser, Using Europe, 213; Gowland, Turner, and Wright, European Integration, 52. 46 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 284–85, 375, 392. 47 Passeron, de Gaulle parle, 69 and FO 371/169122. 48 Gladwyn, De Gaulle’s Europe, 120. 49 Beloff, General, 172.

References Adamthwaite, Anthony. Britain, France and Europe, 1945–1975. The Elusive Alliance. London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2020.

132  Taking on de Gaulle Adenauer, Konrad. Mémoires. 3 tomes. Paris: Hachette, 1965–69. Alphand, Hervé. L’étonnement d’être. Journal, 1939–1973. Paris: Fayard, 1977. Bell, P. M. H. Britain and France 1940–1994 the Long Separation. London: Longman, 1997. Beloff, Nora. The General Says No. London: Penguin, 1963. Burin des Roziers, Etienne. Retour aux sources, 1962. L’année décisive. Paris: Plon, 1985. Catterall, Peter, ed. The Macmillan Years. Prime Minister and After, 1957–1966. London: Macmillan, 2011. De Gaulle, Charles. Mémoires d’espoir. Tome 1: Le renouveau. Paris: Plon, 1970. De Gaulle, Charles. Lettres, Notes et Carnets, juin 1958 – novembre 1970. Paris: Robert Laffont, 2010. Evans, Harold. Downing Street Diary: The Macmillan Years. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1981. Gladwyn, Lord. De Gaulle’s Europe or Why the General Says No. London: Secker and Arburg, 1969. Gowland, David, Turner, Arthur, and Wright, Alex. Britain and European Integration Since 1945: On the Sidelines. London: Routledge, 2009. Grob-Fitzgibbon, Benjamin. Continental Drift. Britain and Europe From the End of Empire to the Rise of Euroscepticism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016. Heath, Edward. The Course of My Life. My Autobiography. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1998. Horne, Alistair. Macmillan. 1957–1986. London: Macmillan, 1989. Kaiser, Wolfram. Using Europe, Abusing the Europeans. Britain and European Integration, 1945–1963. Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1996. Kaiser, Wolfram. “From Laggard to Leader? The United Kingdom’s 1961 Decision to Apply for EEC Membership.” In Widening, Deepening and Accelerating. The EEC, 1957– 63, edited by Anne Deighton and Alan Milward, 257–69. Brussels: Bruylant, 1999. La Serre, Françoise de, and Wallace, Helen. “La dimension européenne: conflits et convergences.” In Les politique étrangères de la France et de la Grande-Bretagne depuis 1945. L’inévitable ajustement, edited by Françoise de la Serre, Jacques Leruez, and Helen Wallace, 127–64. Paris: Presses de la Fondation Nationale des Sciences Politique, 1990. Ludlow, Piers. “A Mismanaged Application: Britain and the EEC, 1961–1963.” In Widening, Deepening and Accelerating. The EEC, 1957–63, edited by Anne Deighton and Alan Milward, 271–85. Brussels: Bruylant, 1999. Macmillan, Harold. At the End of the Day. 1961–1963. London: Macmillan, 1973. Mangold, Peter. The Almost Impossible Ally. Harold Macmillan and Charles de Gaulle. London: I. B. Tauris, 2006. Massip, Roger. De Gaulle et l’Europe. Paris: Flammarion, 1963. Milward, Alan S. The United Kingdom and the European Community. Volume 1: The Rise and Fall of a National Strategy 1945–1963. London: Routledge, 2012. Passeron, André. De Gaulle parle, 1962–66. Paris: Fayard, 1966. Peyrefitte, Alain. C’était de Gaulle. Tome 1: “La France redevient la France”. Paris: Fayard, 1994. Pisani, Edgar. Le Général indivis. Paris: Albin Michel, 1974. Van den Eynde, Charles. “France’s European Tactics Revealed.” La dernière heure, 9 February 1963.

10 Countering de Gaulle

The post-mortem carried out in London after the dramatic collapse of the negotiations in January  1963 was not a comfortable experience. One conclusion was that the ‘friendly Five’ had shown a great deal of sympathy for the British position, and an equal degree of exasperation with de Gaulle, but that this had not been translated into effective action. Despite their differences, the unity of the Six was greater than many in Britain liked to believe. Above all, de Gaulle’s ability to win over Adenauer had been decisive in shifting the balance of power in his favour. There may have been expressions of support for Britain from the other Europeans in the aftermath of the veto, and sometimes intense anger at de Gaulle’s high-handed manner, but this did not go so far as to want to break with France, let alone consider some new alignment in Europe that would have included Britain in France’s place. Once the storm had passed, the Community continued along its path. Britain remained in limbo, unsure of where it stood and increasingly concerned by its declining international fortunes. This did not mean that French leadership of the EEC was assured or that Britain had given up its European ambitions. De Gaulle may have seen off the British challenge in the short term but his plans for Europe were coming up against widespread resistance elsewhere. Adenauer was reaching the end of his political career and the future direction of West German policy was uncertain. Most other EEC leaders opposed the Gaullist vision of Europe. His outright dismissal of the ideas of the European federalists only accentuated their opposition. There was a threefold paradox here. While British leaders shared de Gaulle’s opposition to federalism, they were unable to use this common viewpoint as a basis for agreement. The other EEC member states were broadly supportive of British attempts to enter the EEC and they saw this as an opportunity to balance French power but their ambitions to further integrate Europe in a federalist fashion would not be helped by London. De Gaulle saw France as the only leader in Europe. At the same time, he was unwilling to make any concessions towards the other Europeans’ views and his attitudes towards them only served to alienate them.

DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-10

134  Countering de Gaulle Blame games There was nothing the British could do to reverse de Gaulle’s unilateral decision to block their entry into the EEC but they could at least ensure, in Macmillan’s words, that ‘the failure of the negotiations . . . should be seen to be the responsibility of the French Government alone.’1 The version put out by the British was that de Gaulle had imposed his veto, without consulting the other EEC members, and had justified this with the most spurious arguments. For the French, on the other hand, de Gaulle had done no more than recognise that the interminable negotiations in Brussels had reached an impasse. In this analysis, Britain bore the responsibility for the breakdown through its failure to show that it had become sufficiently European to be allowed to enter. For the British, the talks were in fact close to reaching an agreement when they were abruptly called off. There ensued a sort of ‘blame game’ between London and Paris with the British attempting to salvage something from their defeat. Heath believed that, by placing the blame on the French, they would gain a ‘moral advantage.’2 Harold Caccia, the Permanent Under-Secretary at the Foreign Office (1962–65), thought that the British could be grateful to (de Gaulle) for choosing to sabotage the negotiations in such a way as to take the blame squarely on himself, to shock his Community partners into realisation of the dangerous path along which he proposed to lead them and to infuriate them and the Americans by his methods and behaviour.’ He took some comfort from the outcome, arguing that ‘If the negotiations had to fail, they could not have failed in a manner more advantageous to us.’3 Dixon reported from Paris that the French had got themselves into a ‘mess . . . as a result of the famous press conference.’ De Gaulle, he said, ‘has very few good cards. . . . Each lie that he or his spokesmen will tell will make it easier to expose subsequent French ruses.’4 Others in the Foreign Office thought that ‘if we play our cards right, the person who suffers the most from this press conference will be de Gaulle himself.’ Macmillan still believed that the French could be ‘smoked out by the Americans and by the Five.’5 The two sides entered into a communications battle. Dixon accused de Gaulle of authorising deliberately misleading accounts while Macmillan compared Peyrefitte to Goebbels and described Adenauer as the ‘Pétain of Germany.’6 The arguments used by de Gaulle were dismissed as ‘pseudo-geopolitical nonsense,’ part of the ‘nerve war’7 he was waging against London. The advice given to the Foreign Office News Department was to say that Britain had been ‘deceived’ by de Gaulle whose ‘bad faith’ and ‘sabotage’ lay behind the breakdown in Brussels. It was predicted that the French would ‘resent (this) bitterly’ and would ‘counter-attack us as meanly as only they know how.’8 British reactions were condemned by de Gaulle as ‘hysterical’ and as ‘propaganda.’9

Countering de Gaulle  135 British complaints about the manner and timing of de Gaulle’s announcement were reasonable. De Gaulle’s main justification for his decision that Britain was unsuitable as a member of the EEC because of its maritime traditions and its island position was understandably resented in Britain. Olivier Wormser, the leading French negotiator in Brussels, compared de Gaulle’s policy towards Britain to a bridegroom who insisted on seeing his future wife naked before he would agree to marry her only to reject her when she had got undressed because he disliked the size of her nose.10 De Gaulle was reported to have said that he would ‘have Britain naked’ before he opened the door to Europe. His apparently sudden discovery that Britain was an island and using this to explain his veto did not go down well outside France. However, the argument that the talks had broken down because of the British refusal to accept the terms of EEC membership was not entirely without foundation. One of de Gaulle’s advisors argued that the French had in fact ‘shown goodwill towards the British application’ and had done no more than ‘take note that the negotiations had failed,’ another refused to talk of a veto but rather of a ‘not yet’11 message to the British. The problem of de Gaulle As de Gaulle had predicted, the crisis blew over but not before it had done lasting damage to relations between Britain and France. Reactions in London were, however, tempered by the realisation that a war of words with Paris could not be allowed to get out of hand. Given that entering the EEC remained Britain’s medium-term objective, Heath advised: While we must in fact fight the General . . . we should try not to do so too openly because our ultimate object must be to persuade him to change his mind or the French to throw him out.12 The deep mutual distrust between the two sides made this an uphill task. Heath was recorded as being ‘so bitterly anti-French as to be (quite understandably) almost unbalanced in his hatred of de Gaulle, Couve de Murville etc.’13 De Gaulle was now more than ever the bête noire of British diplomacy, someone who, according to the Foreign Office, was expected ‘to create obstacles across all the paths down which we should like to go.’14 In return, the British were determined to make life as difficult as possible for the French. De Gaulle became an obsession for the Foreign Office. A ‘catalogue of French obstruction’15 on a wide range of issues was drawn up including negotiations to liberalise world trade, international monetary arrangements, the WEU, NATO, relations with the developing world, Berlin, nuclear tests and proliferation, East-West relations, the civil war in Nigeria, UN peacekeeping in Cyprus, the defence or eventual devaluation of sterling, Quebec, support for the Americans in Vietnam, and sanctions against Rhodesia. De Gaulle’s analysis did not differ and he too could have come up

136  Countering de Gaulle with a long list of grievances against the British, either alone or when lumped together with the Americans. From such minor issues as the growing consumption of Whisky in France and the corresponding decline in sales of Cognac, the increasingly dominant position enjoyed by the English language, to British arms supplies to Tunisia, voting against France in the United Nations over Algeria, and all the major issues of international politics listed on the British side, de Gaulle’s interpretation of the relationship with Britain mirrored that held in London. Like his British counterparts, Couve accused Britain of ‘opposing France in every important political field.’16 In January 1965, de Gaulle told Wilson: ‘It was difficult to see where precisely France and Britain could collaborate, since there was no particular field . . . in which their ideas were the same.’17 The British highlighted the ‘problem of de Gaulle.’ In the same way, Couve identified France’s ‘problem of Great Britain.’18 After his return to office in 1958, de Gaulle had shown himself to be a resolute adversary. It was understandable that many people in London looked forward to the day when he would no longer be there to block Britain. ‘If only the French people would send General de Gaulle back to Colombey-les-deux-Eglises this would be one of the most hopeful developments in international affairs,’19 wrote one British diplomat. Until this happened, there was no way for the British to avoid him. De Gaulle’s presence continued to loom large over Europe. All the reports from the Foreign Office agreed that de Gaulle remained an immovable barrier to British ambitions in Europe. His policies were seen as ‘nefarious and dangerous’; his objective was to achieve ‘a preeminent position for France on the European continent and a prominent role for France, which is the same thing as a prominent role for himself personally, on the world stage.’ He conceived of Europe as an ‘extension of France,’ with no place for Britain. Dixon concluded that de Gaulle was ‘a thoroughly dangerous man . . . he and his policies will get worse as time goes on.’20 In the short term, the British were not optimistic about achieving their aims. They were, however, hopeful that they would be able to ‘prevent the consolidation, still more the extension, of de Gaulle’s Europe.’21 Heath thought that they could use the veto to further isolate France in Europe by promoting some new European initiative which would strengthen Britain’s position and ‘serve as a counterpoise to the ambitions of the French Government.’22 These ideas came to nothing and any expectation that the reverse suffered in Brussels would only be temporary was soon shown to be unrealistic. Nonetheless, the objective remained to enter and then lead the EEC. In truth, there was little alternative, as both Macmillan and the Foreign Office reluctantly admitted. The British would have liked to mount an immediate counteroffensive against de Gaulle but they were unsure of which tactics to employ and of the arms available to them. Behind the scenes, the British did not hesitate to use underhand tactics to discredit de Gaulle with one British diplomat in Paris circulating transcripts he had secretly obtained of

Countering de Gaulle  137 de Gaulle’s talks with visiting foreign leaders to other foreign delegations. The battle died down but the fight was not given up by either side. Franco-German entente De Gaulle’s plans for Europe continued to centre on the Franco-German entente that he had worked to build up since his return to power. Adenauer’s support for his veto had shown how effective this could be in reinforcing the French position and in undermining Britain’s. As the other EEC member states had rejected the Fouchet plans in 1962, he believed that they would now have to accept that France and Germany would move ahead without them. They would, de Gaulle believed, have no choice but to follow along behind these new European locomotives. France would, however, be alone in the driving seat. Germany was still held back by being divided between East and West, by its limited defence capacity, especially in the nuclear field, and by the legacy of the War, all of which kept it in a subordinate position. For the moment, the Government in Bonn accepted the role set for it by de Gaulle. The 1963 Elysée Treaty seemed to establish this new Franco-German entente on a firm footing. There were, however, signs of stress in the relationship from the outset. The British and Americans were also determined to prevent the Franco-German couple from becoming too close and to block any prospect of the other Europeans joining them in creating a neutral ‘third force’ in Europe. American pressure on Bonn led to the immediate addition of a preamble to the Elysée Treaty by the West German Parliament that recognised the NATO Alliance as a priority. At the same time, Washington’s promotion of a multilateral nuclear force (MLF) based on NATO warships and jointly manned by Americans and Europeans attracted considerable support in Bonn. The project went directly against de Gaulle’s plans for an independent European defence capability based on the French force de frappe and he warned the West German leadership that accepting the MLF would not be compatible with the Elysée Treaty. Britain was no more attracted by this than were the French and the idea was abandoned in the mid-1960s. The MLF was rightly seen by the French as an attempt to limit their role in Europe. The Anglo-American fear was that de Gaulle was trying to drive a wedge between the Six and the other members of NATO. For Washington, the focus on tying West Germany firmly into the Atlantic Alliance inevitably involved a confrontation with Paris. With support from the British, the Americans were determined to keep West Germany firmly on their side. Five plus one This was a battle that de Gaulle was always unlikely to win. Europe’s dependency on the United States for its defence was the vital flaw in his plans to win over the other Europeans. For the West Germans and the others in the EEC the

138  Countering de Gaulle idea of giving up American protection for a European-based defence structure, even the idea of loosening their links with the United States, raised all sorts of problems. France’s less developed nuclear deterrent, still barely operational in the 1960s, was not a realistic alternative. Moving out from under the American nuclear umbrella and taking shelter under a far from convincing French alternative was never seriously considered. For de Gaulle, the American nuclear capability was undeniably a strong one but he doubted that it would always be an effective deterrent against the Soviet Union for the defence of Western Europe in the same way as it did for the defence of the United States itself. The French force de frappe might carry far less punch but it was, in the Gaullist analysis, European and therefore more reliable. De Gaulle’s attempts to instil the same doubts in the minds of the other Europeans met with only partial success. De Gaulle and the Five were also at odds over their plans for Europe. An essential element of de Gaulle’s Europe was its rejection of a supranational or federal model – one would give a preponderant role to the European Commission and the smaller European states. This, according to de Gaulle, would not only diminish the influence of France but also open the European door to the Americans. His opposition to the federalists’ projects for Europe was repeatedly stated in the most disparaging terms even if he was, more discretely, willing to accept a collective approach and to work with the Commission when it suited him as, for example, over the CAP. De Gaulle considered this to be an essential element of the EEC and if it should be in any way undermined then the EEC would become a far less attractive proposition for France. This had been central to the approach taken by French Governments under the Fourth Republic and it was to remain at the heart of France’s European policy long after de Gaulle. The CAP was the one area where a truly integrated European policy had been introduced. It immediately took up by far the largest part of the EEC budget and led to questions over how high agricultural spending should be allowed to go and, more importantly, where this money should be raised from and who should foot the bill. The West Germans in particular, as the largest contributor to the EEC budget, were concerned to keep levels of spending within limits. For de Gaulle, any attempts to restrict the CAP were unacceptable, and in 1965, he threatened to leave the EEC altogether if an agreement was not reached on the CAP budget. De Gaulle won this battle of political wills but such threats to the very existence of the EEC were deeply resented. Over time, French threats to break up the EEC, or to block its progress, gradually became less convincing. This was a French bluff that the other members became more willing to call. Leaving the EEC would also have been opposed by numerous powerful groups inside France. Empty chair Walter Hallstein’s proposal in 1965 to develop the Community’s own financial resources independent of the member states, increase the role of the Commission

Countering de Gaulle  139 and the European Parliament and extend the use of majority voting in the Council of Ministers provoked a strong reaction from de Gaulle who instructed French Ministers to cease attending meetings in Brussels, in effect blocking the EEC. The stand-off with the Commission and the other EEC member states dragged on for several months before the compromise ‘Luxembourg accord’ was reached in January 1966 that preserved a de facto national veto in areas considered to be of vital national interest. The so-called ‘empty chair’ crisis and the rift it produced between France and the Five were seen by some in London as an opportunity to renew the attempts to replace France inside a new European structure. On the other hand, by blocking plans for a federal Europe, de Gaulle eased British fears that this would be the sort of Europe that they might, sooner or later, be forced into. The crisis of 1965–66 also showed that the Franco-German entente, the keystone of de Gaulle’s Europe, was perhaps not going to be strong enough to bear the load placed on it. Efforts to convince the West German Government to distance itself from the Americans had not succeeded. French disappointment with German attitudes in key areas was manifest from the moment the German Parliament added the pro-NATO preamble to the Elysée Treaty. De Gaulle’s personal relations with Adenauer’s successors never achieved the same intimacy. Couve rebuked the Germans for their ‘persistent bad faith’ during the agricultural negotiations and their ‘insurmountable suspicion’23 of France regarding the Kennedy round in GATT. Hervé Alphand, the French Ambassador in Washington (1956–65), admitted that the results of the Franco-German Treaty had been ‘disappointing’ and that it had ‘not brought the hoped-for rewards.’ The Germans, he complained, were ‘doing nothing to give Europe any weight or its own particular identity.’24 The Franco-German entente was clearly not working to France’s satisfaction. By 1965, de Gaulle was telling his Ministers that ‘we can no longer have a common policy with Germany. . . . We cannot count on them.’ The Germans, he said, had gone from being his ‘great hope’ to his ‘great disappointment.’25 In de Gaulle’s eyes, Britain was guilty of being overly close to the Americans. He could have brought the same charge against the Germans. De Gaulle’s decision to withdraw French forces from NATO command in 1966 highlighted the differences between Paris and Bonn. In response, the British and Americans were determined to protect NATO against further Gaullist attacks. The British were keen to take the lead in these countermeasures seeing them as a means of winning the support of the Five, especially the Germans, and of exploiting their exasperation at de Gaulle’s policies to improve Britain’s European credentials and help any future efforts to enter the EEC. Labour and Europe When the Labour Government was elected in 1964, there were few signs that it would seek to renew Britain’s EEC application. Harold Wilson, like Gaitskell

140  Countering de Gaulle before him, was far more attached to the Commonwealth than to Europe. He had been scathing in his attacks on the EEC’s approach to world affairs from the beginning and had condemned the CAP in the strongest terms. Like his predecessors, his preference for a liberal ‘one-world’ approach to economic questions was clearly at variance with the French view. Overall, Wilson’s idea of Europe was barely distinguishable from that of Macmillan. On becoming Prime Minister, his focus was on Britain’s world role, maintaining a presence east of Suez, and defending sterling, the Commonwealth connections and the ‘special relationship.’ No new European initiatives were expected from the incoming Government and none were forthcoming. The door to Europe also seemed to be as firmly shut to Britain as ever and there was no desire in London to risk further humiliation at the hands of the French. For the moment, any new move towards Europe was ruled out, something which Wilson confirmed in his first meetings with de Gaulle. De Gaulle welcomed these assertions of Britain’s lack of interest in joining the EEC. More concerned with France’s struggles with the other EEC members, he was pleased not to have to face an attack on his flanks by the British. This wait-and-see approach towards European policy was not tenable in the long run, and two years after coming into office, Wilson began to adopt a more positive approach that led in 1967 to the decision to re-open talks with the EEC on possible terms of British entry. Having previously sought to ignore the subject, the Labour Government began to gradually change tack. The Labour manifesto for the 1966 elections now stated that Britain ‘should be ready to enter the EEC, provided essential British and Commonwealth interests are safeguarded.’ This change of direction, timidly and only partially undertaken, was motivated by feelings that Britain’s other international partnerships, with the Commonwealth, Washington and EFTA, were failing to meet the country’s needs. The growing economic success of the Six and the changing patterns of British trade made the idea of EEC membership increasingly attractive. Many in Britain argued that there was no real alternative, that remaining outside would inevitably accentuate Britain’s decline and its loss of prestige and influence in Europe and the wider world. These signs of a change in outlook were not, however, accompanied by any newfound enthusiasm for Europe. While Wilson and Stewart were not outright Eurosceptics their support for British entry into the EEC was at best conditional. The move was tainted by suspicion of the whole European project and, equally significantly, by doubts about Britain’s compatibility with it. The federal European project was as anathema to the Wilson Government as it had been to the Conservatives before them. Europe was the least worst of the available options. Wilson’s hands were further tied by the fact that the country, his Party and his Government were more than ever divided over Europe. The EEC was no more Wilson’s preferred model of Europe than it had been Macmillan’s, and before embarking on an attempt to enter it, Wilson returned to the idea of establishing a wider free-trade agreement between the Six and the

Countering de Gaulle 141 other Europeans. Unfortunately for Wilson, EFTA was not a sufficiently strong base from which to promote this renewed attempt at bridge building with the EEC. The Wilson Government had itself already undermined EFTA when, in October 1964, it unilaterally imposed a 15% surcharge on top of existing import tariffs, without prior consultation with the other members and in contravention of its terms of agreement. The problem of connecting two such different structures as EFTA and the EEC, one a free-trade area and the other a customs union, with few common characteristics or common policies, remained insurmountable. Wilson’s efforts were no more successful than the various free trade area plans of the past. Although the Wilson Government showed no enthusiasm for the idea of abandoning its position on the edge of the EEC, it was deeply worried about the direction the Six seemed to be taking. The British still feared the economic and political consequences of remaining outside the EEC, even if it looked no more attractive as a future destination. Developments inside the EEC added to these worries. Given de Gaulle’s obstinate opposition, the Six seemed less likely to embark on a more federal course. At the same time, de Gaulle’s plans, to create a European ‘closed shop’ and reinforce France’s leading position in the EEC, were serious causes for concern. British requests that the Six slow down further progress between them so long as Britain remained outside had no more chance of being accepted than Macmillan’s pleas to the Six to wait for the British before moving ahead at the time of the FTA and the Treaty of Rome. Renewed moves towards Europe In 1966, Wilson began to test the European waters to find out if Britain would be welcome this time around. The same exercise was undertaken at home to see if he would be able to carry the country and his Party with him in any future European initiative. Any move would only be into what he termed the ‘right sort of Europe,’ one that was consistent with Britain’s relations with the Commonwealth and with the United States. Continuing along the lines set out by Churchill twenty years before, Wilson insisted that these should form ‘complementary policies,’ part of ‘the effective working unity of Europe.’ This meant a wider Europe than the EEC and a European organisation that operated within an Atlantic framework. The objective was to create a Europe that would be ‘genuinely outward-looking, and not autarkic.’26 Such views clashed with those of the French Government. The two sides continued to talk of Europe in strikingly different terms. There was no meeting of minds when Pompidou and Couve visited London in July 1966. The French insisted that fundamental reforms to put Britain’s house in order were needed before considering any move towards the EEC. These included a series of deflationary measures, devaluation and abandoning sterling’s role as a reserve currency, similar policies to those that France had adopted to redress its situation in 1958. Coming from a country that the British had traditionally seen as inherently unstable, this lesson was hard to take, even if

142  Countering de Gaulle its central message had already been accepted by many in Britain itself. The visit went badly on both a personal and a political level. Relations with the French, and with de Gaulle, were even less well managed during the Wilson Government than they had been during Macmillan’s years in office. George Brown, Foreign Secretary from 1966 to 1968, was certainly pro-European and pushed hard to achieve British entry into the EEC but on a personal level his handling of the French was disastrous. De Gaulle once said of him: ‘[T]his little Brown, I rather like him – in spite of the fact that he calls me Charlie.’27 The British Ambassador believed that Brown had even asked Couve’s wife to sleep with him.28 The French saw him not only as an ‘affectionate’ character but also as an embarrassment.29 At the end of 1966, after a long debate, the Cabinet accepted, although not unanimously, that Britain should make another application to enter the EEC. Having reached this decision, the question then arose of what tactics to adopt. The support of the Americans was welcome, although it was still recognised that overplaying this would risk reinforcing de Gaulle’s fear of an ‘Anglo-Saxon’ plot. The choice was, therefore, between attempting to work directly with France and to reach a deal with de Gaulle or working against France by building an alliance with the Five. Trust in France, and more especially in de Gaulle, was too low to have much faith in the first option. Both Stewart and Brown recommended a policy of outflanking the French by mobilising the Five and pressuring the French into giving way. To get a feel for the lay of the land, and to evaluate how much support they might be able to count on, Wilson and Brown visited each of the six European capitals. In Bonn, it was clear that the Germans would not openly challenge de Gaulle in order to support the British application, preferring instead to take a conciliatory approach. For his part, de Gaulle continued to apply pressure on the Germans telling the Chancellor that ‘if our Community partners wanted to admit the English at any price, (France) would leave the Community.’30 Italy and the Benelux countries offered more straightforward support to Britain although their weight alone was not sufficient to decisively tip the scales in Britain’s favour. Ultimately, whatever approach the British took, the outcome was always going to be determined in Paris where de Gaulle’s views had not significantly changed since the first British application five years earlier. Once the decision to apply for entry into the EEC had been taken, Wilson overcame his earlier reticence and became a determined advocate of his new policy. He was also surprisingly optimistic about his chances of success. He came away from a meeting with de Gaulle in Paris in June 1967 reasonably confident that, while de Gaulle obviously did not welcome the British application, if the British persisted then the French resistance could be worn down. To add force to the campaign, George Brown insisted that the British application was clear-cut and without any insurmountable conditions. This ignored the obvious and very real differences that still existed between the two sides and which the British themselves continued to highlight in their own analyses of the

Countering de Gaulle  143 situation. The CAP in particular remained an obstacle. The EEC’s protectionism was repeatedly denounced in Whitehall. In 1965, the Ministry of Agriculture aggressively condemned what it termed ‘the pernicious character of the EEC system.’ The EEC’s ‘protective devices – import restrictions, variable levies, export “restitutions” (i.e. subsidies) etc.,’ they argued, constituted a ‘violation of GATT’ and were ‘used continuously to frustrate international trade.’31 The constantly rising costs of the CAP as agricultural production in the EEC soared was another unwelcome development and one that might well put too high a price on EEC membership for this to be considered a reasonable possibility. Against this, the alternatives to the EEC were looking even less attractive than before. Various other possibilities were debated in London. ‘Going it alone,’ with a purely national economic policy, was ruled out as impossible given the need for wider markets; a single-handed campaign in favour of global free trade was illusory, and the prospects of a North Atlantic or Anglo-Saxon Free Trade Area were very slim. The one positive point to emerge from these reflections was the belief that, while there was ‘no real alternative to our joining the EEC . . . once we were in, we could guide it on the right lines.’32 As late as 1968, the British Cabinet was still arguing that they should ‘prevent . . . the existing EEC from developing in directions which would make it more difficult if not impossible for us to eventually join it.’ The same paper confidently asserted that ‘there was no serious danger that our friends in the EEC would allow it to develop in ways disadvantageous to us.’33 These expectations seriously miscalculated the difficulties the British Government was about to face on the Continent, above all in Paris. Towards a third veto Having decided to renew the bid for EEC membership, Britain’s attention inevitably turned towards de Gaulle. There were few available sticks with which to beat him but there were still some incentives that might be offered to him. One possible means of inducing the French to accept the British application was to offer to collaborate in the field of technology and defence. This was an area where the British were in a strong position and where high-technology industries needed the economies of scale that a widened EEC could provide. A potentially even higher value card that the British were briefly tempted to play was the nuclear one, although having assured themselves of American assistance in this field the Wilson Government did not want to risk losing this by some illconceived offer to the French. Also, by 1967, France was less in need of assistance having progressed considerably with its own independent nuclear force. De Gaulle saw as clearly as ever that Britain’s entry into the EEC would change its character and would seriously dent his plans for a ‘European Europe.’ His views on Britain’s place in Europe had not fundamentally altered since his last veto. Britain and the EEC were a ‘mismatch.’ ‘You can’t,’ he said, using the French expression, ‘marry a carp and a rabbit.’34 His efforts to discourage the

144  Countering de Gaulle British application and, if necessary, to block it were clear from the start. The British Embassy reported that he had instructed the French press to emphasise the difficulties facing Britain’s entry ‘as if the old soldier had ordered that new obstacles should be thrown up to slow the British advance.’35 De Gaulle’s press conference in May 1967 made all this clear, although he stopped short of rejecting the British application outright. Britain, he concluded, would be welcome in Europe as soon as it had taken the measures needed to make this possible. Wilson remained optimistic despite de Gaulle’s cold shoulder telling the editor of The Guardian that Britain could still lead in Europe. Britain’s ‘political influence in Europe if we joined would be great,’ he said, adding that ‘If we couldn’t dominate that lot, there wasn’t much to be said for us.’36 His hopes were shattered when de Gaulle pronounced a definitive veto the following November. As in 1963, the British were left with no way out of the situation in which they now found themselves in Europe. In his latest press conference, de Gaulle explicitly denied that he had ever said he wanted to ‘have Britain naked’ but it wasn’t difficult to hear something very similar in the words he used to justify his decision. These were much the same as those he had used five years previously. Britain, he said, was simply unable to meet the conditions that membership required and had not yet become sufficiently European. Couve continued to argue that the onus was on Britain to make the necessary changes and that it needed to unconditionally accept both the Treaty of Rome and its subsequent developments. Behind the public justifications there were the same questions of rank and leadership in Europe. De Gaulle was still determined to consolidate France’s dominant position and to keep a dangerous rival out. If Britain managed to enter the EEC, he told his Ministers, it would be transformed with Britain taking the top spot. More worryingly, Britain would be only the vanguard of an even more dangerous American invasion that would flood into Europe through the breach opened by the British. The reactions to de Gaulle’s press conference were understandably angry. Gladwyn thought the ‘elaborate defence of his veto . . . about as feeble in argument as can be imagined,’ all part of his ‘war of movement . . . designed, above all, to keep France in the lead.’37 As in 1963, the complaints of the British and others had no effect in Paris. It was a humiliating defeat for Wilson. The ‘spectacle of the British Prime Minister trailing around Europe with a begging bowl . . . was not an elevating one, especially as he had nothing concrete to show for it.’38 All Britain could do was wait for de Gaulle to leave office. De Gaulle’s renewed offer of association with the EEC was again felt by the British to be an added insult. The French interpretations were quite different. Pierre Maillard, one of de Gaulle’s advisors at the Elysée, dismissed the whole British approach to Europe as a ‘smokescreen, an “operation” aimed exclusively at holding back the entente being built up between France and Germany’39 and he accused the British of seeking to trap de Gaulle and of using blackmail to force their way into the EEC.

Countering de Gaulle 145 Continuing the fight As there was nowhere else for them to turn to after de Gaulle had once again slammed the European door in their faces, the British left their application on the table. Wilson was determined to put on a brave face. His policy, he belligerently proclaimed, remained ‘to invest the EEC citadel’ and would ‘consider all other possible means of manoeuvre outside and around the citadel itself’ in order ‘to improve our general European posture.’ There must be ‘no suggestion that we were not still standing at the main gate awaiting entry: our application for entry was in and remained in.’ Looking to the future he called for further initiatives targeting de Gaulle, both to ‘increase his isolation’ and to ‘ensure that the potential resistance to British entry of the post-de Gaulle regime should have been weakened as far as possible beforehand.’ In the meantime, ways should be found to ‘outflank the embattled positions’ and to show how ‘ridiculous de Gaulle’s policies and oppositions were, in the general context of European interests.’ In particular, the Germans should be brought to ‘realise how little their “special relationship” with France was helping their policy towards the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe.’40 The Quai d’Orsay painted a similar warlike picture of Wilson who, they said, was looking to ‘organise an indefinite siege of the Community.’41 Pompidou warned that France and the EEC should be prepared for ‘a concerted attack by the Anglo-Saxons.’42 France here was being called on not only to defend its own position but also to defend the EEC as a whole against any future British assault. Playing to this martial theme was, for both sides, an almost automatic reaction. A less dramatic, but more appropriate, reading of the situation came from one French diplomat who saw it as a ‘war of pin pricks.’43 The French, surer of their position in Europe than the British, could afford to take a more relaxed view. Towards the end of his time in office, de Gaulle seemed willing to rethink parts of his approach to Europe and the British. In talks with Christopher Soames, the new British Ambassador to France (1968–72), he raised the idea of reforming Europe or of creating a new structure alongside the EEC. This, he suggested, could include Britain as part of a joint directory. This was an interesting offer, although the terms remained vague. When Soames’s report was received in London, accompanied by his favourable impression, the Foreign Office, where suspicions of de Gaulle had reached new heights over the previous years, immediately interpreted it as a trap. Fearing that de Gaulle was looking to use this as a means of discrediting Britain in front of the other EEC members, their advice, accepted by Wilson, was that to avoid any such risk it would be advisable to inform the Five of what had been discussed in Paris. When this information was then leaked to the press, there was a storm of protest in Paris. The ‘calculated manoeuvres’ of the British in putting out a deliberately ‘deformed version’44 of the talks were condemned as an attempt to sabotage the sincere efforts being made by de Gaulle to resolve the differences between the two countries. Some

146  Countering de Gaulle saw this as the Foreign Office’s revenge for de Gaulle’s earlier ill-treatment of the British; others saw it as proof of Britain’s natural perfidy. The result was further mutual recrimination. Conclusion: joint failures? At the end of the decade, neither Britain nor France could be entirely satisfied with their positions in Europe. The situation in Britain showed no sign of real improvement or that the efforts to redress the country’s underlying economic shortcomings had achieved the desired results. In France, de Gaulle’s previously strong position was being seriously challenged. The events of May 1968, the run on the franc and the widespread protests undermining de Gaulle’s authority, were readily seized on in London as proof that France was returning to its true nature. De Gaulle himself appeared to be physically worn out and lacking the motivation to pursue his grand projects for France. Frustrated at the lack of progress he had made in Europe and in redefining France’s global status, his disillusion was increasingly visible. Even some inside the Gaullist camp began to question him. Over the course of the decade, British attempts to get closer to, or to enter, Europe had got nowhere. Hopes that Europe might be redirected along more favourable lines under British leadership came to nothing. Indeed, the EEC’s whole approach to its commercial and economic affairs was taking it steadily further away from Wilson’s ‘right sort of Europe.’ The successive vetoes in 1958, 1963 and 1967 had left Britain more than ever excluded from the mainstream of European affairs. The British had, nonetheless, succeeded, at least partially, in blocking a French-led political Europe. In the economic field they were still outside the Common Market with all the commercial costs that this engendered for British businesses. The CAP continued to stand out as an obvious symbol of the wrong sort of Europe. Britain had started out from a relatively strong position in Europe, although this had steadily deteriorated over time, but British policies had remained hesitant. The conduct of policy by Macmillan and Wilson had been unsure. Neither had skilfully played the cards they had been dealt. Both had been inconsistent towards Europe, starting out opposing British entry into the EEC but ending up taking the same path towards Brussels. For both of them, this proved to be a dead end. De Gaulle could point to no greater success. The British rival for leadership had been kept out and the ambitions of the European federalists held in check but positive achievements were harder to identify. Germany, which had been the great hope in 1958–63, had disappointed and the Elysée Treaty had been emptied of much of its substance. That West Germany would, in the last resort, choose the United States over France was the persistent shortcoming in de Gaulle’s plans. He continued to call for Franco-German unity as the basis for building Europe but this could not disguise his underlying feeling that the Germans had ‘betrayed Europe.’45 The numerous differences separating

Countering de Gaulle 147 the two countries over NATO and the future integration of Europe were never entirely overcome. Elsewhere in Europe, de Gaulle had failed to build up sufficient support for his European project. Many in the Five thought that de Gaulle’s promotion of a ‘European Europe’ was no more than a front for a French Europe. Spaak in particular remained strongly opposed. De Gaulle, he said, ‘claimed to be a supporter of a united Europe but he could only conceive of this under French hegemony.’ De Gaulle’s ultimate failure in Europe, Spaak, argued, was due to his own actions: ‘his intransigence and the brutality of his diplomacy’ had ‘provoked the crises (that) brought down this great enterprise.’46 De Gaulle may well have dismissed this as the views of a ‘poor Belgian’ dreaming of a federal Europe but Spaak’s words reflected views there were widely held throughout the Five. Federalists such as Monnet thought that de Gaulle ‘did not suggest drawing lessons from the past. He proposed to start the past over again.’47 De Gaulle promoted the unity of Europe but refused both its enlargement and the creation of any effective central European authority. Without enlargement the ‘little Europe’ of the Six lacked sufficient weight in world affairs to rival the two superpowers. Without accepting some diminution of French influence in a more genuine international community the other Europeans were reluctant to follow French leadership. De Gaulle’s aggressive style and his disdain for many of the other Europeans did nothing to convince them to follow his lead. Had he taken a more consensual approach, Spaak argued, he would have been able to achieve his European ambitions. De Gaulle’s ambitions for France had never been confined to Western Europe and the EEC, but there were even fewer successes to point to in the wider European and global spheres. De Gaulle’s hopes that leadership of a united Western Europe would allow France to break free of the bipolar world system, free Europe from its dependence on the United States, and open the way to a Frenchled détente with the Soviet Union were never realised. French overtures towards Moscow were met with polite disinterest. The Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968 revealed the futility of these efforts. France, like Britain and the other Europeans, was simply bypassed in the highest-level exchanges between Moscow and Washington. The Soviet Union was far more focused on its relations with West Germany when it was a question of the future of Europe and with the United States when it was a question of East-West relations. In either case, France was of secondary importance. Nor was France ever in a strong enough position to break entirely with the United States. However violent his outbursts against the ‘Anglo-Saxons,’ and his resentment at their efforts to relegate France to a secondary role in world and European affairs, de Gaulle realised that, for so long as the Soviet danger remained, the Atlantic Alliance would be essential to the defence of Europe and of France. At the end of the day, there were no winners in this latest round in the battle for the leadership of Europe. France could keep Britain at arm’s length and in

148  Countering de Gaulle return Britain could thwart much of de Gaulle’s European project. De Gaulle had shown considerable tactical skill in his dealings with the British, at times adopting a brutally intransigent approach, refusing to concede the slightest ground, at others taking a more flexible approach, modifying his tactics and conducting his diplomatic campaign much as he would any military operation, keeping both his adversaries and his allies in the dark as to his intentions. He had outplayed the British but his victories were short-lived. Britain had never solved its ‘problem of de Gaulle’ but neither had de Gaulle solved his with Britain. After Wilson’s failed attempts to enter the EEC in 1967, there was little alternative for Britain other than to wait in the European antechamber in the expectation that French opposition would fall away once de Gaulle had left office. By the time this happened, the possibility of creating an ‘open’ Europe based on a wider free-trade bloc closely linked to the United States in the political, economic and military fields was becoming more remote. While de Gaulle condemned the British model for Europe as a form of American protectorate, the British replied that de Gaulle’s policies were leading to a ‘fortress’ Europe economically and a ‘Third Force’ Europe politically and militarily, that would be cut off from the rest of the Western Alliance. Their policies were too incompatible for an agreement to be found. The two rivals still seemed as much concerned to score points as to progress towards their stated aims and to place the blame and use the other as a scapegoat. The final balance sheet of British and French foreign policies during the years of de Gaulle’s presidency was, therefore, not a positive one. London and Paris failed to place their relations on a constructive footing. Instead they neutralised each other, setting themselves against the most fundamental foreign policy objectives of their ally. In this, they were not without success but such achievements were entirely negative. Perhaps both sides should have taken more heed of Macmillan’s view (a view that he was not willing to back up with the necessary policy changes) that Britain and France were never as effective as when they worked as partners on the international stage. The repeated calls for such cooperation were made in vain. Notes

1 CAB 128/37 CC5(63), 22 January 1963. 2 CAB 128/37 CC7(63), 25 January 1963. 3 FO 371/169114, 4 February 1963. 4 FO 371/169122, 19 January 1963; FO 371/169116, 11 July 1963. 5 FO 371/169114, 15 January 1963; FO 371/169123, 11 March 1963. 6 Catterall, Prime Minister, 536. 7 FO 371/171445, 16 January 1963. 8 FO 371/169122, 1 February 1963 and 28 January 1963; FO 371/173341, 5 February 1963. 9 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 375, 379. 10 Beloff, General, 164.

Countering de Gaulle 149 11 Burin, Retour, 164–65; Maillard, De Gaulle, 219. 12 PREM 11/4220, 6 February 1963. 13 Catterall, Prime Minister, 577. 14 FO 371/163494, 23 August 1962. 15 PREM 13/306, 3 May 1965. 16 EW 4/8, 4 July 1966. 17 PREM 13/2645, 29 January 1965. 18 FO 371/169115, 27 March 1963; Couve, Politique étrangère, 385. 19 FO 371/163494, 23 August 1962. 20 FO 371/169124, 2 May 1963. FO 371/172070, 7 October 1963. 21 PREM 11/4220, 6 February 1963. 22 CAB 128/37 CC8(63), 29 January 1963. 23 Couve, Politique étrangère, 323. 24 Alphand, L’étonnement, 440. 25 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 303, 305. 26 PREM 13/306, 3 March 1965. 27 Young, Blessed Plot, 192. 28 Reilly interview, 5 July 1999 in Pastor-Castro, Paris Embassy, 124. 29 Alphand, L’étonnement, 482, 487. 30 Quoted in Jackson, Certain Idea, 685. 31 PREM 13/245, 29 July 1965. 32 FCO 20/14, 26 April 1967. 33 CC (68)15, 27 February 1968. 34 Alphand, L’étonnement, 483–84, 489. 35 FO 146/4637, 22 December 1966. 36 Quoted in Parr, Britain’s Policy, 91. 37 Gladwyn, De Gaulle’s Europe, 124. 38 Pimlott, Wilson, 442. 39 Maillard, De Gaulle, 216, 266, 269. 40 FCO 33/72, 12 September 1968. 41 MAE, Carton 265, Série 16/24, 1 December 1967. 42 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 108. 43 MAE, Carton 1741, Série 16/24, 30 March 1963. 44 Maillard, De Gaulle, 268; Burin, Retour, 164. 45 Tournoux, Tragédie, 499. 46 Spaak, Combats, II, 170. 47 Quoted in Bossuat, Faire l’Europe, 117.

References Alphand, Hervé. L’étonnement d’être. Journal, 1939–1973. Paris: Fayard, 1977. Beloff, Nora. The General Says No. London: Penguin, 1963. Bossuat, Gérard. Faire l’Europe sans défaire la France: 60 ans de politique d’unité européenne des gouvernements et des Présidents de la République française, 1943–2003. Brussels: Peter Lang, 2005. Burin des Roziers, Etienne. Retour aux sources, 1962. L’année décisive. Paris: Plon, 1985. Catterall, Peter, ed. The Macmillan Years. Prime Minister and After, 1957–1966. London: Macmillan, 2011.

150  Countering de Gaulle Couve de Murville, Maurice. Une politique étrangère 1958–1969. Paris: Plon, 1971. Gladwyn, Lord. De Gaulle’s Europe or Why the General Says No. London: Secker and Arburg, 1969. Jackson, Julian. A Certain Idea of France. The Life of Charles de Gaulle. 1990. London: Penguin, 2019. Maillard, Pierre. De Gaulle et l’Europe. Entre la nation et Maastricht. Paris: Tallandier, 1995. Parr, Helen. Britain’s Policy Towards the European Community. Harold Wilson and Britain’s World Role, 1964–1967. London: Routledge, 2005. Pastor-Castro, Rogelia, and Young, John W., eds. The Paris Embassy. British Ambassadors and Anglo-French Relations 1944–79. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. Peyrefitte, Alain. C’était de Gaulle. Tome 1: “La France redevient la France”. Paris: Fayard, 1994. Peyrefitte, Alain. C’était de Gaulle. Tome 3: “Tout le monde a besoin d’une France qui marche”. Paris: Fayard, 2000. Pimlott, Ben. Harold Wilson. London: Harper Collins, 1992. Spaak, Paul-Henri. Combats inachevés. Tome 2: De l’espoir aux déceptions. Paris: Fayard, 1969. Tournoux, Raymond. La tragédie du Général. Paris: Plon, 1967. Young, Hugo. This Blessed Plot. Britain and Europe From Churchill to Blair. London: Macmillan, 1998.

11 Entering the EEC

In 1970, the new Conservative Government led by Edward Heath picked up where Wilson and de Gaulle had left off. In the words of Lord Carrington, the new Minister of Defence, Britain ‘returned to the battle’1 in Europe. The renewed efforts to enter the EEC started off from the same observations and arguments as those that had been used in 1961–63 and 1967. The first was the fear of a future outside the EEC backed up by the realisation of Britain’s shrinking alternatives. The Commonwealth had been declining steadily for some time and Britain was, by 1970, far less concerned with defending its members’ interests when dealing with the EEC; the ‘special relationship’ with the United States remained important in the defence field but could not provide the commercial relationship that was vital if Britain’s economic fortunes were to be reversed; EFTA had fallen far short of the hopes placed on it when it had been set up. On a more positive note, it was believed that membership of the EEC would reinvigorate the British economy and allow Britain to maintain its position as a major international player. Contrary to growing evidence of Britain’s relative weakness, there were still British leaders who thought that Britain’s position inside the EEC would be among the leaders, possibly as the leader. The ex-Foreign Secretary, George Brown, writing in 1972, was unable to ‘see where else leadership can come from other than from this country.’2 Without resorting to the same degree of national arrogance, the pro-Europeans in the Conservative Government who were now leading the British application thought along similar lines. The belief in Britain’s natural strengths, its unbroken democratic record compared to the Continental Europeans with their more unfortunate recent pasts, and its ancient parliamentary system, remained strong. When Brown told Willy Brandt ‘you must get us in, so we can take the lead,’3 he was expressing a view of Britain’s relationship with the rest of Europe that had often been held since 1945. By 1970, however, this no longer reflected the underlying realities of Britain’s situation.

DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-11

152  Entering the EEC New leaders, the same problems In Europe, the previous generation of leaders had for the most part left office. It was hoped that this would allow for European relations to be conducted in a less conflictual fashion. Heath was rightly recognised as being more positive in his outlook on Europe than any of his predecessors as Prime Minister. Whoever came after de Gaulle in France was sure to be seen as an improvement in the other European capitals, especially in London. The attitude of Willy Brandt, the new West German Chancellor (1969–74), was quite different from the one adopted a decade previously by Adenauer. The situation had changed much less in terms of national policies and outlooks. Britain, and each of the Six, took up much the same positions as they had done in their previous encounters. That Belgium and the Netherlands would be favourable to the British was taken for granted in London. Italy and Luxembourg were expected to follow suit. Brandt’s sympathy for Britain was real but did not extend so far that he was willing to put real pressure on the French. Soames summed up the situation in April 1971. The French, he said, do not expect any serious pressure from their partners. They believe that in the last resort the Germans will acquiesce in what they decide and that the Italians can be fixed. The Belgians they patronise, and the Dutch they admire but disregard. So it comes down to an Anglo-French understanding.4 The British were also facing a European group of six that had been working together for two decades. Their shared experiences and sense of belonging to a community had gone beyond what many, particularly in London, had initially thought possible. The Six were not prepared to reconsider the agreements reached between them since the 1950s simply to ease the way for the British. Britain, and any other newcomer, would have to accept the EEC as it was. Britain and France entered this latest round of their battle in Europe in different circumstances. Britain’s relatively poor economic performance compared to the continental Europeans had become clear by 1970. British decline and the revival of France conditioned the two countries’ exchanges throughout the 1960s and 1970s. Britain’s underlying problems showed few signs of being resolved, and while Britain had been slipping down European economic league tables, France had been on the rise. In 1960, British national income per head had been higher than in France. Over the following years, the positions were reversed. Between 1970 and 1973, average growth in Britain was 3.3% and 5.9% in France.5 These and other comparable figures were constantly pored over by the Governments and in the press in both countries. The relative performances of the two rivals were constantly highlighted, with dismay on the British side and glee on the French. Forecasts suggested that the gap between them would grow even wider. One Cabinet paper in 1974 estimated, correctly, that British GDP per

Entering the EEC  153 capita would be the second lowest in the EEC by 1980. The relatively confident mood in Paris contrasted with the growing sense of malaise across the Channel. The impression of Nicholas Henderson, on taking up his ambassadorial post in Paris, was that ‘the French were riding high, particularly in comparison with the UK,’ something which the French lost no opportunity in spelling out. According to Giscard, the ‘age-long competitive struggle between France and the UK . . . was over for good with France the victor’ while overtaking Britain in terms of GDP marked ‘a decisive advantage in the greatest rivalry in European history.’6 Henderson also noted the condescending tone in Paris: ‘the French want us to be down,’ he reported, ‘even if they do not want us to be out.’7 French economic weakness had been taken for granted by the British in the 1950s; by the beginning of the 1970s, it was French economic strength that had become their concern. British leaders reopened their campaign in Europe in 1970 with a sense of urgency, believing that Britain needed to finally achieve its ambition to enter the EEC before it developed in ways that made this impossible. The EEC Commission welcomed the British application and the Five were equally positive but everyone knew that it was France that would play the decisive role in determining the outcome. As Heath recognised, the French had the veto, and on the question of British entry had already used it once. There was no question of them accepting British membership just because the Five wanted us in. . . . We must gain friends in France and outmanoeuvre our enemies. . . . We must not try to organise the Five against the French, for that was the best way to ensure that the French would again frustrate us.8 It was accepted in London that Pompidou, who had replaced de Gaulle as President in 1969, would not reverse his predecessor’s entire approach to Europe but it was hoped that his presidency would at least allow for an improved atmosphere. De Gaulle’s personality, however, had not been the only barrier to an understanding. Anglo-French quarrels over the previous two decades had left a legacy that was not easily forgotten when the two countries returned to the negotiating table. These recent disputes were added to the long list going back decades, even centuries. All of this pointed to difficulties ahead in their next round of talks. Renewed talks The Hague summit in 1969 set the ground for the third British application which, by then, was certain to be made. Pompidou used this occasion to set out a threefold agenda for Europe summarised as ‘completion, deepening and enlargement’: completion of the existing policies, notably the customs union and the

154  Entering the EEC CAP and deepening by working towards further economic and monetary integration. Enlargement obviously pointed towards Britain. The mood in AngloFrench relations was warming up but the two sides remained divided over many of the issues which they had been fighting over in Europe since 1945. Foremost among these was the question of agriculture. Pompidou made his attachment to the CAP very clear. ‘If you ever want to know what my policy is,’ he told Heath, ‘don’t bother to call me on the telephone. I do not speak English and your French is awful. Just remember that I am a peasant, and my policy will always be to support the peasants.’9 Others in Paris stuck to de Gaulle’s previous hard line. Alphand, now the Secretary-General at the Quai d’Orsay (1965–72), was particularly unenthusiastic about the British application. He complained that it was no longer a question of (the British) accepting the terms of the Treaty of Rome and the ensuing decisions (taken by the Six) but one of setting the price that we have to pay to allow these good Englishmen to deign to join us.10 Pompidou was also unsure of the British move. He welcomed the moves being taken by the British in the direction of Europe but he continued to express doubts about their sincerity. He frequently referred to his predecessor’s famous meeting with Churchill in 1944 to back up this point. Nor did Pompidou deviate from the main precepts of Gaullist thinking. ‘If Europe is not European,’ he said in May 1971, [S]he won’t be Europe; being European means being distinguished from the rest, from Asia, the Soviet world, but also from America. . . . If we don’t differentiate ourselves, we’ll be Americans, but we don’t want to be Americans, we want to be Europeans.11 Fears that British membership of the EEC would mean the end of French leadership had not gone away. There were many in Paris preparing for what they saw as a renewed offensive by the British. The implications of British membership in an enlarged EEC were the source of much unease in France. The BBC’s diplomatic correspondent, Thomas Barman, wrote that the French were afraid of being ‘swamped by non-Latins and Protestants such as the British, the Norwegians and the Danes.’ A ‘tone of anxiety . . . creeps into the voices of French politicians and French dons when speaking of the erosion of French as an international language to the advantage of the English.’12 Pompidou shared this mistrust of the British as future partners although his, and France’s, mood was becoming less suspicious. There was also a realignment of French policy in Europe motivated, first, by the recognition that holding out against British entry was something of a lost cause and, second, by concerns about West Germany’s growing strength and its more assertive and independent foreign policy, particularly towards Eastern Europe. Under Pompidou these anxieties became

Entering the EEC 155 more acute. His relationship with the West German leaders, especially Willy Brandt, never reached the same level of intimacy as that achieved by de Gaulle with Adenauer. In this changing context, British entry could be more easily seen as a means of balancing German influence. British membership would also strengthen the French hand in resisting pressures to extend the powers of the European Commission. Anglo-French negotiations The same issues as those that had been at the heart of the previous negotiations were again on the table in 1970. On most of them, the British and French continued to adopt opposing positions. Sterling’s role as a reserve currency, questions of trade with the Commonwealth, the CAP and the common external tariff were the main problems that would have to be resolved. The difference was that this time there was sufficient political will to overcome them. The British realisation that they were no longer in a position to demand major concessions from the Six was also a significant change. In 1966, Pompidou, then Prime Minister, had told the British that they would have to accept all ‘the rules of the club’13 if they wanted to join. Five years later, this was now reluctantly admitted by the British themselves. Con O’Neill, the diplomatic head of the British delegation in the EEC, accepted that Britain would have to ‘swallow the lot, and swallow it now’14 including the common external tariff and the CAP. Heath conducted his European campaign with real determination but he was facing opposition not just in Paris but also from his many detractors at home. Europe was now the most divisive issue in British politics provoking intense, often violent, debate between pro and anti-marketeers. Backing for Heath on this issue was uncertain with public opinion at best only lukewarm towards the EEC. Wilson, although he had been preparing a renewal of the British application before he lost office in 1970, now seized on Heath’s conduct of the European negotiations as a means of attacking the Government. Had he been in charge of the talks himself he would have no doubt taken up the same positions and obtained the same results but with the anti-EEC voices in the Labour Party becoming increasingly strident, and sensing the mood in the country, criticism of Heath’s stance on Europe became an easy option for him. Other Labour leaders also began to adopt a nationalist, anti-European, rhetoric. The final votes in the House of Commons in favour of British membership of the EEC were closely fought and only carried by the Government thanks to those Labour MPs who broke ranks with their Party leadership on this. Despite all these pessimistic outlooks on the future, and the obvious weaknesses in Britain’s negotiating position, there were still hopes that once inside the EEC Britain would be able to influence its future developments, including cutting back on the costs of the CAP and renegotiating the Common Fisheries Policy (CFP) that the Six had agreed on shortly before the latest round of talks with Britain had begun. In 1971, the

156  Entering the EEC Daily Mail saw the potential for a new post-imperial role for Britain in Europe, proclaiming ‘Now we can lead Europe.’15 Contrary to the expectations of many observers, Heath and Pompidou managed to establish a climate of mutual confidence. Pompidou and those around him came to see Heath as a rare example of a ‘good’ British European, someone who they could trust. It was reported that Pompidou had more in common with the British Prime Minister than with Brandt. Heath’s success, unlike Wilson and Macmillan before him, was to convince his French counterpart that Britain had become sufficiently European to be allowed entry into the European club. This improved personal relationship between the two leaders allowed the two sides to make the decisive moves that were needed to avoid the talks once again ending in deadlock. As one contemporary observer noted, the official negotiations in Brussels involved ‘trench warfare . . . carried on with no mercy shown on either side’ but it was in the ‘secret peace talks’16 between the British and French in Paris that the decisive breakthrough was made. In reaching an agreement, both sides had accepted to make concessions. Britain agreed to end sterling’s role as a reserve currency which had long been one of the conditions insisted on by the French. More positive for Britain was the agreement reached between EFTA and the EEC in 1972 to lower customs duties and reduce quotas on industrial goods. The commitment to extend the scope of the EEC into areas more beneficial to Britain, such as regional aid programmes, industry, energy, technology and the environment, was also welcomed in London. Both sides accepted to move towards a European monetary system and economic union. In the early 1970s, these projects remained sufficiently vague for them to be accepted by the British negotiators and they were not given prominence in the debates in Britain taking place at the time. This was to radically change in later years when these issues became the major points of friction between Britain and its European partners. Following the announcement of a final Anglo-French agreement, Soames enthusiastically wrote: ‘Now that this process of rapprochement has received the seal of approval at the highest level we can again talk about the entente cordiale without embarrassment.’17 On the French side, the reactions were more restrained. Doubts about the consequences of British membership were not so easily overcome. The British, Pompidou told Monnet in November 1972, were planning ‘a commando raid in Brussels’ and they already saw ‘the City of London controlling Europe.’18 Britain enters the EEC Britain’s entry into the EEC in January 1973 was hailed as a great victory by Heath, but it had been won only late in the day. The timing was to prove to be unfortunate and the sense of achievement short-lived. Britain was entering a European structure that had not been of its own making. The delay in finally achieving membership of the EEC was to have significant consequences for

Entering the EEC 157 the future relations between Britain and the rest of Europe. De Gaulle had said that his refusal to allow Britain to enter the EEC was not meant to be permanent and that this would happen one day when Britain had moved sufficiently to allow it to meet his criterion to be an acceptable partner in Europe. This, of course, begged the question of what it meant to be truly European and what Europe was. De Gaulle’s earlier remark that he would ‘have them (the British) naked’ (‘je les aurai nus’) had, in large part, now been played out. Britain entered the EEC in 1973 largely on French terms, accepting the preexisting arrangements made in Britain’s absence over the course of the first fifteen years of the EEC’s existence. The inevitable conclusion was that Britain entered the EEC too late and that, when it did enter, it was not the EEC that Britain would have wished for. Heath had, nonetheless, achieved his ambition, seizing the window of opportunity offered to him to get Britain into the EEC. Unfortunately, the context of the 1970s was highly unfavourable as Britain’s first years as an EEC member coincided with war in the Middle East, the onset of the most serious economic recession since 1945, rising inflation and unemployment at levels not seen since the 1930s. The result was a growing sense of dissatisfaction with Europe and Britain’s EEC membership. Inside the EEC, old Anglo-French rivalries did not take long to re-emerge. For Douglas Hurd, then a young diplomat, the ‘native instinct of rivalry between Britain and France which was as deep rooted in the Foreign Office as in the Quai d’Orsay’19 conditioned the two countries’ activities in Brussels as fellow members of the EEC. Adjustment to life inside the Community proved difficult, not least for those British civil servants sent to work in Brussels where most business continued to be done in French. Without greater support among the British public for EEC membership, it was always difficult to convince others in Europe that British leadership was a convincing option. Heath, who was increasingly contested at home and facing a deepening economic and political crisis, failed to provide any real sense of direction in British policy once membership had been obtained. Robert Armstrong, Heath’s Private Secretary, later said that for Heath ‘getting in was an end in itself’ and he remained unclear about Europe and its future. According to Armstrong, he did not have ‘a coherent vision about what to do with it when we were in, how it could evolve and therefore how we would try and make it develop.’20 The lack of new thinking in Britain was general. Disappointment and disaffection towards the EEC in Britain were soon supplemented by corresponding feelings on the Continent towards Britain. The impression the British gave to the other Europeans was, according to Nicholas Henderson, that ‘we had joined a club that we did not like and whose rules we wished to change under the threat of leaving if we did not get our way.’21 With such a negative state of mind, Britain proved to be unwilling or unable to take on a leadership role once inside the EEC and it was France that continued to play this role most effectively. Life inside a French-led EEC was always going to be uncomfortable for the British.

158  Entering the EEC Labour and the lack of European leadership During the Wilson and Callaghan Governments from 1974 to 1979, Britain’s role in Europe was given a far lower priority. In large part, this reflected the two men’s outlook on the world. Neither showed any enthusiasm for Britain’s newfound European status. As for Europe’s future, they would have been happy to see the EEC remain as it was at the time of Britain’s accession, with some minor modifications in Britain’s favour. For Wilson and Callaghan, leadership of Europe was not worth fighting for, although they resisted this role being taken on with too much vigour by anyone else. Their priorities lay elsewhere and as a consequence the mantle of European leader was left for others, in Paris and Bonn, to pick up. Wilson and Callaghan were at best agnostic on Europe. Their memoirs barely mentioned it and when they did it was mostly concerning its implications for domestic British politics and the fortunes of the Labour Party. Their records in Government show that Europe did not occupy a central place in their thinking. Wilson admitted that he had ‘never been emotionally a Europe man.’22 One of his advisors thought that he was ‘mildly anti-European in the sense that he did not like the continental style of life or their politics. The French and southern Europeans appeared particularly alien to him. He disliked their rich food, generally preferring meat and two veg with HP sauce. When he returned from a Paris dinner with the French President in September  1974 suffering from an upset stomach, he readily accepted Marcia [William]’s admonition that it was a proper punishment for going abroad. . . . Harold Wilson was . . . basically a north of England, nonconformist puritan . . . including touches of the ‘little Englander’.’23 Callaghan’s outlook was similar. In opposition, he had vehemently rejected the view that Britain should loosen its connections with the Commonwealth or the United States. His portrayal of the Conservative policy as wanting to ‘put off old friends in order to put on the new’ was hardly a fair description of Heath’s policy but it was a useful argument against his political adversary. ‘We have a deep attachment to the continent of Europe and are part of its ancient civilisation,’ Callaghan proclaimed, ‘but we are obstinately Atlantic Europeans.’ The ‘very words “a European Europe”,’ he said, ‘give an aroma of Continental claustrophobia.’24 His arguments could not have been further removed from the standpoints defended by de Gaulle and Pompidou. When he became Foreign Secretary in 1974, he regretted that ‘Heath’s deep and lasting commitment to Europe had weakened our relations with the United States.’ The Conservative Government, he said, had ‘banked everything on our relations with Europe. The time has come to cultivate the rest of the world once more.’25 As Prime Minister, Callaghan, like Wilson, always put the interests of the Labour Party before Europe. Renegotiating EEC ‑membership Heath’s determination to get Britain into the EEC had taken precedence over the details of the actual terms of membership. The approach was to get in while

Entering the EEC 159 the French had lowered their guard, take what was on offer and then sort out the problems from inside. However, by accepting the final terms of entry, he was storing up trouble for the future. Heath hoped that the various arrangements could be reset after Britain had joined. His final year in power showed how difficult this was. The promise to renegotiate the terms of British membership and then to put them to the country in a referendum was part of the Labour Party manifesto in 1974. Labour’s complaints were about both the EEC itself and the terms of British membership. In the short term, the new Labour Government hoped to modify the second of these before turning to the first. Given the low levels of public support for EEC membership in Britain and the deep divisions in the Labour Party, the commitment to renegotiating Britain’s EEC membership was understandable but it was ‘hardly a recipe for an effective British input to Community policymaking in Brussels.’26 The continuing use of the EEC as a scapegoat for Britain’s problems only reinforced the feeling that Britain was fighting not only in defence of British national interests but also against the interests of the other Europeans and against the EEC itself. Wilson produced a list of areas where he demanded modifications to the terms agreed to by Heath. The most important of these related to the CAP, imports of food from the Commonwealth and the question of Britain’s contribution to the EEC budget. In doing so he was returning to the same battlegrounds that had been so hard fought over since 1945. Wilson added a further demand that the projects for economic and monetary union should be put on the back burner. In reality, Wilson’s approach was little more than window dressing designed primarily for domestic consumption and as a means of deflecting the attacks from critics inside his own Party. The threat to leave the EEC if a satisfactory agreement was not reached did not give the British negotiating team any real leverage in its talks with the other EEC members. This bluff was not taken entirely seriously on the Continent. In France, many felt that the Community could continue quite well without the British. The terms of the renegotiated agreement changed very little in the most important areas. Some minor concessions were won but these were achieved at a cost. The whole process of renegotiating Britain’s membership of the EEC had been a serious irritation for the other Europeans. Their confidence in Britain’s commitment to the EEC was understandably shaken. As a result, Britain’s position inside the EEC was weakened and its relations with its European partners soured. Any ambitions that the Labour Government might still have had to place Britain in a leading role in Europe were further undermined. The renegotiation of Britain’s EEC membership had once again produced some sharp Anglo-French exchanges. The British continued to criticise the Community as a French creation designed for France’s own economic benefit. The French riposte, supported by the Commission and by the other member states, was that Britain had signed up to terms in the treaty of accession and that it should respect its commitments. The French saw themselves as defending the Community and its policies against Britain and they resisted making significant

160  Entering the EEC concessions to the British demands to revise the terms of a treaty Britain has signed up to only a few years before. Michel Joubert, the French Foreign Minister (1973–74), argued that ‘France had paid a fair price for Britain’s entry into the Community and, therefore, saw no necessity to pay an additional price to keep it there.’27 Jacques Chirac, the French Prime Minister (1974–76), made it quite plain that he saw no justification at all for a renegotiation. The British delegation complained that their attempts to find a fairer deal for Britain ‘faced typical French hostility.’28 Wilson’s approach was no more positive. When a compromise solution was suggested by one of his advisors as a way round Britain’s difficulties in Europe, he threw this out saying: ‘Don’t you understand? I don’t want the solution, I want the grievance.’29 The renegotiated terms were nonetheless put to a vote in a national referendum which gave an overwhelming two-thirds vote in favour of remaining a member of the EEC. Despite this seemingly clear-cut result, the debate had revealed a country that was deeply divided over Europe. Wilson confidently asserted that the result meant ‘that fourteen years of national argument are over.’30 As the following years were to show, there was a deeper uncertainty underlying the results. Support for the EEC in Britain did not run deep. The Conservatives held onto their image as the party of Europe but Labour began to tear itself apart on the issue with the left of the Party refusing to give up on its ambition to take Britain out of the EEC, adopting a policy of ‘not taking yes for an answer.’31 British leadership in Europe made little sense under Wilson or Callaghan. Their dissatisfaction with the existing EEC was strong but their efforts to reform it were half-hearted. Neither had a clear vision of what Europe could become. There were no significant or constructive propositions for Europe coming out of Britain but plenty of criticism. British policy was to slow down, and if possible block, further integration. Even without British intervention Europe was making little progress along this path. Different reports and proposals for its future development came out in the 1970s without making much headway. Attempts to institute an embryonic monetary union were unable to resist the turmoil that engulfed the world economic and financial system after 1973. The recommendations to extend the powers of the Commission and the European Parliament were effectively shelved. These stalled efforts to move ahead with integration, and the evident lack of European solidarity during the 1973 oil crisis, were serious blows to the European movement. Britain and the Franco-German entente Pompidou’s acceptance of the British as partners inside the EEC had been motivated in part by his desire to have a counterweight to the growing strength of West Germany. In London, there were hopes that this might allow Britain to establish closer relations with both France and Germany, or create a form of European triumvirate. However, without a genuine commitment to engage with

Entering the EEC 161 Europe, Britain was always unlikely to achieve these aims. Callaghan enjoyed a close relationship with Helmut Schmidt, the German Chancellor from 1974 to 1982, and he saw West Germany, the largest contributor to the EEC budget, as a potential ally in British efforts to reform the CAP and to impose greater financial rigour of the EEC. Britain had been considered by West Germany as a close partner in the early 1970s but, due to its economic decline and its reticent attitude towards Europe, the Germans gradually stopped seeing Britain as a leading European player. Schmidt remained a committed Anglophile but he could never see Britain as a real associate in Europe given its half-hearted engagement and its opposition to further integration. If Britain was unavailable for Germany, as Schmidt had concluded, then there was no other choice than to continue to look to France. Unlike Schmidt, Giscard d’Estaing, President from 1974 to 1981, was identified by British diplomats as being ‘profoundly unsympathetic to Britain.’32 Giscard, on the other hand, regarded himself as being more Anglophile than his predecessors although he admitted that his relations with Wilson were far from warm. He later remembered Wilson as an ‘unpleasant man’ with whom relations were always difficult.33 With Callaghan, the relationship improved but this was never on the same level as the friendly relations that both men enjoyed with Schmidt. Franco-British summits were initiated under Giscard but never matched the importance of those between France and West Germany dating from the de Gaulle-Adenauer era. The Franco-German side of the triangular relationship between Britain, France and Germany was far more firmly based than the two sides involving Britain. Schmidt later recorded his ‘personal conviction . . . that only a close cooperation with France could allow Germany to guarantee its vital interest.’ He also maintained the line followed by previous German governments that accepted that France should occupy the first position in the Franco-German couple. France, he said, ‘should have a head start over Germany, notably because of its nuclear status . . . but also for historical psychological reasons.’ In reply, Giscard expressed his ‘feelings of total confidence’ in Schmidt.34 Like de Gaulle, Giscard saw the Franco-German relationship as the key to his entire European policy and was far less concerned with the smaller European countries who were relegated in his thinking to the role of loyal followers. The image of a close Franco-German ‘couple’ was not, however, the whole story. Giscard, again like de Gaulle, had deep concerns about the growing strength of West Germany and the possibility that West Germany, despite Schmidt’s assurances to the contrary, would impose itself as the dominant partner. These French anxieties were never entirely dissipated. There were also still significant differences between the two countries regarding the Atlantic Alliance and their ideas of the world economic order. Some French officials remained suspicious of what they saw as the ‘equivocal game’ being played by the West German Government, switching from one European partner to another with ‘the ambition of winning for itself the leadership of Europe.’35 Henderson noted in 1978 that there was a growing feeling in France that ‘Germany is getting a bit above itself.’36

162  Entering the EEC Any such sign of a weakening of the Franco-German relationship was seen in London, as it had been in previous years, as opening up possibilities to improve Britain’s bilateral relations with each of them or of edging Britain into the Franco-German relationship. In 1979, it was reported by the Foreign Office that both France and Germany needed a close relationship with Britain as a counterweight to the other. When looked at from the perspectives of Paris or Bonn this calculation appeared rather less convincing. As Britain’s economic situation worsened, Giscard and Schmidt had less and less interest in Britain and no desire to see the British intrude on their cosy bilateral relationship. Britain was in no position to force their way in or to establish anything comparable with Paris or Bonn. Giscard was adamant about this. In retirement he was asked how the ‘Paris-London-Bonn triangle’ worked. He replied that the ‘idea was not pertinent, it did not work. It isn’t a triangle.’37 There was to be no ménage à trois to lead Europe. The low priority that the British gave to Europe from 1974 to 1979 inevitably meant that it was France and West Germany that attempted to instil a fresh impetus in the EEC. Reforming and relaunching Europe France was still unwilling to accept Britain as an equal partner in the leadership of Europe. In part this continued to be a question of power politics, part of the leadership struggle that had been going on for years between them. It was also based on the same differences over the sort of Europe the two countries wished to promote. The Labour Government in London presented the same arguments as those used by the Governments of the 1950s and 1960s, targeting the same faults in the EEC. The long list of policy differences between Britain and France had barely altered. The British notion of Europe was still based on free trade and economically liberal ideas. It was this approach that the British encouraged the EEC to adopt in the latest Tokyo round of GATT talks. The CAP continued to be the target of violent British criticisms with the same arguments being made against it. The de-industrialisation that all EEC members were experiencing in the 1970s added to the strength of the British case. The main problems facing Europe, Callaghan argued, were not in agriculture but in the depressed industrial regions and it was towards these that the EEC’s efforts should now be redirected. Britain’s relatively high, and growing contribution, to the EEC budget remained another cause of friction as did the distribution of rights to European fishing waters under the CFP. The British placed all these grievances on the EEC negotiating table at every possible occasion. Although there was little expectation that British demands for reform in the EEC would succeed, the British Government, largely for electoral reasons, continued the campaign fought by its predecessors. The 1979 Labour Party election manifesto added a series of socialist-based criticisms of the EEC. Its manifesto for the European Parliament elections later in the same year went further arguing that unless there were ‘fundamental reforms’ a

Entering the EEC  163 future Labour Government would reconsider Britain’s membership of the EEC. Britain’s isolated position inside the EEC meant that these aims were unlikely to be achieved. Protests by French farmers against British food exports to the Continent, with the blockading of the Channel ports and the burning of lorries carrying British lambs, ensured an ever more heated debate. The British press picked up these events with glee, at various times declaring egg, apple and lamb ‘wars’ and accusing French farmers of ‘terrorist actions.’ A Franco-German lead By the mid-1970s, the Franco-German ‘couple’ had become an established and inescapable part of the European system. The closer this relationship became, the more Britain was left on one side. Tempting one or both of them into a rival relationship, or getting them to accept the idea of working as a group of three, was required if Britain was to place itself at the centre of European affairs. Efforts were made in this direction but met with little success. Unfortunately for the British, as Nicholas Henderson noted in his diary in September 1978, Giscard and Schmidt were ‘in Cahoots.’ Giscard in particular, Henderson wrote, ‘has written us off as a partner who can contribute to the creation of Europe.’ Nor had Giscard lost any of the traditional sense of that deep-seated historic rivalry with the British that had been so characteristic of de Gaulle. According to Henderson, Giscard is by nature inclined to view us more as a rival than a partner; and I suspect that he thinks that the smaller part Britain has the better. . . . The less London’s role the greater the scope for Paris.38 On a personal level, Henderson concluded that Callaghan was ill-suited to take on a leading role in Europe and unlikely ever to establish a close rapport with the French President. Callaghan, he said, can inspire trust more than did Wilson but he always displays an unequivocally non-Continental attitude. He is too English, too involved in his own domestic affairs and too uninterested in unanchored political speculation, particularly about the future of Europe, to make much personal appeal to Giscard. His deeply pessimistic conclusion, noted in the privacy of his diary rather than in an official despatch, was that as a result of Britain’s persistent economic weakness and refusal to have a coherent European policy or show any warm-heartedness towards Europe, Schmidt and Giscard are increasingly establishing a bilateral lead . . . the other Community countries

164  Entering the EEC which at one time looked to London to play a useful role in standing up to French nationalism and in serving as a counterweight to possible German assertiveness, no longer have much faith in us. . . . Europe is going ahead without us.39 The British Ambassador in Bonn reported the same views. Schmidt openly expressed his disappointment with the British record since it had joined the EEC. Britain, ‘had given little or no impulse to European affairs.’ It had ‘no vision of what (it) wanted the Community to be’ and had instead ‘spent six years or more haggling like Italians for a little bit here and a little bit there.’ This, Schmidt felt, ‘was no way for a country like Britain to act.’ His conclusion was the same as that reached by Henderson. ‘Wherever one looked in the Community,’ Schmidt said, ‘it was not Britain who had used her wisdom and experience to point in a new direction or come up with answers to European or world problems.’ Britain had ‘Half joined and half stayed out,’ of the European Monetary System, but had played little or no active part in a venture which was the most forward-looking project for Europe for decades. Britain, by putting herself on the side-lines of the Community, had made her partners indifferent to whether she stayed in or out.40 The warnings from British diplomats that Giscard was determined to move forward with or without Britain, and that he even saw advantages in leaving the British on one side, had no significant impact on the Government in London. French ambitions to lead Europe were in no way diminished during Giscard’s presidency. The style, however, was less forceful. For Giscard, as it had been for de Gaulle, this was both a personal and a national ambition. Already in 1969, his aim had been to see France ‘take back the lead in the construction of a political Europe.’ This, he said, was ‘the great historic task of our age.’41 Like his predecessors, he saw Europe as a lever for French power and as a means of exercising a significant international role that would have been out of France’s reach if it had tried to act alone. His most lasting contribution to European integration was the establishment of the European Council, placing it at the heart of the EEC decision-making process. This intergovernmental approach to Europe satisfied the British but fell short of the hopes of the West Germans and many other Europeans. Opposition to the more federalist tendencies of Giscard was significant in France, including some of those closest to him. In December 1978, Jacques Chirac, who had shortly before been Giscard’s Prime Minister, warned that France was in danger of ‘subjugation’ and ‘economic enslavement’42 as a result of European integration. He opposed the proposal for direct elections to the European Parliament as a further diminution of France’s national sovereignty and said that the enlargement of the EEC to include Spain and Portugal should only be considered after the problems this would create had been fully

Entering the EEC 165 resolved. Although several other Gaullist leaders distanced themselves from him on this, he remained the leader of the largest political party in France, the RPR, and a voice that Giscard could not afford to ignore. Giscard’s own thinking on Europe was unclear. After leaving office, he presented himself as a convinced European and as the heir to Schuman and Monnet. Others described him as a ‘pseudo-federalist’ who was ‘eminently concerned by questions of rank, the role of France’s national interests in Europe and the world.’43 Beyond the institutional reforms of the EEC, based around the creation of the European Council, the most significant advance taken by Europe at this time, on the joint initiative of Paris and Bonn and without any real British input, came in the summer of 1978 with the creation of the European Monetary System (EMS). This picked up on the earlier European monetary ‘snake,’ creating an Exchange Rate Mechanism (ERM) which placed the various European currencies within certain bands, allowing for only minimal movements upwards and downwards. To enter this scheme, each member would be required to accept a tighter fiscal policy than many of them had followed up to that point. The aim was also to harmonise economic policies across the EMS zone. Equally importantly, the scheme was presented as the first step, part of a longer-term project of European integration that would take it into more political domains. Such an ambitious programme strained the relations between the participating countries. Given the strength of the Deutschmark and the relative weakness of most of the other European currencies, some observers saw this as laying the foundations for a German-dominated system. The French Government welcomed the possibility of having German financial strength and the Bundesbank as a prop to support the franc and as a means of achieving the greater financial stability in France that they seemed unable to achieve by themselves. The Germans were not always happy at the idea of taking on such a role and were worried that many of the other Europeans would not be willing or able to accept the constraints that the EMS would require if it was to succeed. Taking European integration into the monetary field, where West Germany’s greater financial and economic strength would inevitably place it in a leading position, held out the prospect of a major leap forward for Europe, but it also presented a serious challenge to the French position in Europe. In the short term, the EMS reinforced the image of a Europe being led by the Franco-German couple. Giscard and Schmidt were undoubtedly the driving forces behind it and it was their determination that allowed the project to overcome the numerous oppositions from within their own Governments and administrations, in particular from the two central banks. The other original EEC members were mostly happy to follow the initiative and, with varying degrees of ease, managed to do this. The British voluntarily kept their distance, accepting to be part of the parallel European Monetary Fund but keeping the pound outside the ERM. Callaghan and the Danish Prime Minister were alone in opposing the project when it was presented to the European Council but they were unable

166  Entering the EEC to block the decision in the face of the determination of the great majority of members who were in favour. Callaghan’s preference for an American-led and global approach to the monetary problems facing the Europeans demonstrated the significant differences between his thinking and that of most of the continental Europeans, starting with Giscard and Schmidt. The consequences of not participating in EMS and the risk that this would lead to a further side-lining of Britain in Europe in the future were outlined by the Foreign Office. Remaining outside the EMS was perhaps unavoidable given the weak domestic position of the Callaghan Government but it was nonetheless ‘a fateful decision.’44 Callaghan had been ‘offered what turned out to be Britain’s last real chance to lead the European Community alongside France and Germany’45 and he had turned it down. Conclusion Heath’s goal had been not only to enter the EEC but also to exercise leadership once that had been achieved. Instead of this, Britain took on the role of an awkward European troublemaker, grumbling about its budget contributions, the problems faced by its fishermen and farmers and a host of other grievances. British policy towards Europe remained essentially negative and defensive, resisting the proposals of others rather than promoting a British vision. The result was that the British excluded themselves from the central discussions on Europe’s future. The more pro-Europeans in Britain deeply regretted this situation. Roy Jenkins, after meeting with Giscard and Schmidt in June 1978, said that he had got the feeling from both . . . that they were heartily sick of the endless foot-dragging by the British in the Community. . . . Our leading European partners were fed up with us – with our reluctant Europeanness. . . . We would not be able to divide or break them even should we wish to do so.46 Jenkins’ appointment as President of the EEC Commission in 1977 suggested that Britain might still have had some influence over European affairs. Henderson recorded that his arrival in Brussels had given the French ‘the willies.’47 However, as Commission President, he made little impact and proved unable to take on a leading role or impose his views on the member states. Britain was going nowhere in Europe. British attempts to block progress in the areas where it felt most uncomfortable were insufficient to hold back the Franco-German European locomotive. Even if its progress was slow the direction had been set. In Britain, there was less and less confidence that Europe might still somehow be redirected along a different path. British complaints, in themselves understandable, exacerbated the strains between Britain and its EEC partners. Dissatisfaction in Britain with a range of EEC policies was widespread. Their negative impact on Britain and the costs they engendered were

Entering the EEC 167 widely publicised. The benefits, most significantly freer access to the continental European markets, were less visible and received far less recognition. Efforts to reform those parts of the EEC that it least liked, most notably the CAP, were met with stiff French resistance. Anglo-French collisions became a frequent feature of EEC summits. From the French perspective, British attempts to reform the EEC along more open-market lines, and to align Europe more closely with the Atlantic Alliance, were seen as ongoing proof of Britain’s unsuitability as part of the European project. Gaullists in France continued to denounce Britain as an American Trojan horse seeking to undermine Europe from within. For the moment, the British posed only a limited threat that the French were able to withstand. However, the stage was being set for a showdown between an increasingly dissatisfied Britain and those on the Continent, led by France and Germany, who were determined to push ahead with integration. The Wilson and Callaghan Governments had made few efforts to take on a leading role in Europe. Their preferred option for Europe was that it should stand still and therefore not really require any leadership at all. A Europe with no real direction, without a leadership willing to take it along an uncharted path, taking instead a purely managerial approach to ensure the effective operation of the existing institutions restricted to their limited areas of competence, suited Britain very well. Towards the end of his premiership, Callaghan talked of the tide that was turning in Britain in favour of the Conservative Party. In the same way, he had made a Canute-like attempt to hold back the tide in Europe where the demands for a more dynamic approach were gaining momentum. His passive resistance to deeper European integration was replaced in 1979 by a more determined attempt to resist this European tide, even to redirect its course, undertaken by Margaret Thatcher. Notes 1 Carrington, Things Past, 314. 2 Brown, My Way, 202–5. 3 Brandt, People and Politics, 161. 4 Quoted in Heath, Course, 364. 5 Figures in Wall, European Community, 24. 6 Henderson, Mandarin, 93, 132. 7 Henderson, Mandarin, 132. 8 Hurd, Promises, 58–59. 9 Heath, Course, 368. 10 Alphand, L’étonnement, 536. 11 Reproduced in Bruneteau, L’idée européenne, 219. 12 Barman, “Brussels Breakdown,” 276. 13 EW 4/8, 4 July 1966. 14 Quoted in Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 61. 15 Quoted in Grob-Fitzgibbon, Continental Drift, 361. 16 Kitzinger, Diplomacy, 116.

168  Entering the EEC 17 FCO 30/1156. Quoted in Pastor-Castro, Paris Embassy, 155. 18 Quoted in Bossuat, Faire l’Europe, 439. 19 Hurd, Promises, 59. 20 Quoted in Young, Blessed Plot, 255. 21 Henderson, Channels, 133–34. 22 Pimlott, Wilson, 659. 23 Donoughue, Kitchen, 179. 24 Quoted in Grob-Fitzgibbon, Continental Drift, 359. 25 Callaghan, Time and Chance, 295–96. 26 Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 73. 27 Quoted in Pickles, “Gaullist Foreign Policy,” 232. 28 Donoughue, Kitchen, 175. 29 Donoughue, Kitchen, 173. 30 The Times, 7 June 1975. Quoted in Broad, European Dilemmas, 121. 31 Broad, European Dilemmas, 120–38. 32 Michael Palliser and Nicholas Henderson in Wall, Reluctant European, 41. 33 Baratier, Giscard, 312, 53. 34 Berstein, Rémond and Sirinelli, Giscard, 90. 35 Quoted in Baratier, Giscard, 151. 36 Henderson, Mandarin, 235. 37 Baratier, Giscard, 311. 38 Henderson, Mandarin, 213–14. 39 Henderson, Mandarin, 214. 40 PREM 19/54. Quoted in Wall, European Community, 147–48. 41 Quoted in Bossuat, Faire l’Europe, 142. 42 Chirac Communiqué, ‘l’Appel de Cochin’, 6 December 1978. 43 Bossuat, Faire l’Europe, 157. 44 Wall, Reluctant European, 146. 45 Wall, European Community, 62. 46 Henderson, Mandarin, 203. 47 FCO 33/3141. Quoted in Pastor-Castro, Paris Embassy, 209.

References Alphand, Hervé. L’étonnement d’être. Journal, 1939–1973. Paris: Fayard, 1977. Baratier-Negri, Laurence. Valéry Giscard d’Estaing et le Royaume-Uni. Le rendez-vous manqué avec l’Europe ou le Brexit annoncé? Paris: Sorbonne Université Presses, 2018. Barman, Thomas. “Behind the Brussels Breakdown.” International Affairs, 39, No. 3 (July 1963): 360–71. Berstein, Serge, Rémond, René, and Sirinelli, Jean-François, eds. Les années Giscard. Valéry Giscard d’Estaing et l’Europe. Paris: Fayard, 2003. Bossuat, Gérard. Faire l’Europe sans défaire la France: 60 ans de politique d’unité européenne des gouvernements et des Présidents de la République française, 1943–2003. Brussels: Peter Lang, 2005. Brandt, Willy. People and Politics. 1960–75. London: Harper Collins, 1978. Broad, Roger. Labour’s European Dilemmas. From Bevin to Blair. London: Palgrave, 2001. Brown, George. In My Way. London: Penguin, 1971. Bruneteau, Bernard. Histoire de l’idée européenne au second XXe siècle à travers les textes. Paris: Armand Colin, 2008.

Entering the EEC 169 Callaghan, James. Time and Chance. London: Harper Collins, 1987. Carrington, Peter. Reflect on Things Past. The Memoirs of Lord Carrington. London: Collins, 1988. Donoughue, Bernard. The Heat of the Kitchen. An Autobiography. London: Politico’s, 2004. Giscard d’Estaing, Valéry. Les Français: Réflexions sur le destin d’un peuple. Paris: Plon, 2000. Giscard d’Estaing, Valéry. Le pouvoir et la vie. Tome 3: Choisir. Paris: Librairie générale française, 2007. Grob-Fitzgibbon, Benjamin. Continental Drift. Britain and Europe From the End of Empire to the Rise of Euroscepticism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016. Hannay, David. Britain’s Quest for a Role. A Diplomatic Memoir From Europe to the UN. London: I. B. Tauris, 2013. Heath, Edward. The Course of My Life. My Autobiography. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1998. Henderson, Nicholas. Channels and Tunnels. Reflections on Britain and Abroad. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1987. Henderson, Nicholas. Mandarin. The Diaries of an Ambassador, 1969–1982. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1995. Hurd, Douglas. An End to Promises. Sketch of a Government 1970–1974. London: Collins, 1974. Kitzinger, Uwe. Diplomacy and Persuasion: How Britain Joined the Common Market. London: Thames and Hudson, 1973. Pastor-Castro, Rogelia, and Young, John W., eds. The Paris Embassy. British Ambassadors and Anglo-French Relations 1944–79. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. Pickles, Dorothy. “The Decline of Gaullist Foreign Policy.” International Affairs, 51, No. 2 (April 1975): 220–35. Pimlott, Ben. Harold Wilson. London: Harper Collins, 1992. Wall, Stephen. The Official History of Britain and the European Community. Volume III: The Tiger Unleashed, 1975–1985. London: Routledge, 2019. Wall, Stephen. Reluctant European. Britain and the European Union From 1945 to Brexit. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2020. Young, Hugo. This Blessed Plot. Britain and Europe From Churchill to Blair. London: Macmillan, 1998.

12 Reforming and redirecting Europe

The record of the Thatcher years was marked by talk of battles fought and lost in and against Europe. The CAP, fisheries and, above all, calculations of money paid in and money taken out of the European budget provided numerous grounds on which to carry on the fight. Arms were taken up in various forms. Harsh words often veered into outright insults as raw nerves and personal and national sensibilities were exposed. The media on both sides of the Channel weighed in. Popular singers too.1 Sporting confrontations seemed to take on an added edge. Thatcher, the European? Despite Thatcher’s sometimes virulent anti-European rhetoric, and the Euroscepticism that she sought to highlight in her memoirs, she was, in her way, a leader in Europe. Nor were her efforts to lead and reform Europe entirely in vain. The EU as it exists today owes a great deal to her ideas. To argue that Thatcher pursued the aim of previous Governments in London to place Britain among the leaders of Europe is, of course, to continue to ask ‘what sort of Europe?’ This question was never more important than during the 1980s when Europe was confronted with vital decisions over its future. There were many demands emanating from across the Continent for greater integration. At the same time, there was an ideological swing towards more free-market and economically liberal approaches to the questions facing Europe. Alongside the calls for an acceleration of European integration and reforms of the European institutions there were other demands for the liberalisation of the European market, and the free movement of people, goods and capital. When Thatcher took office in 1979, and François Mitterrand two years later, Europe was entering a decisive moment in its history. The choices it made in the ensuing years would determine its long-term future. The competition between the various European rivals for the leading position and to determine the direction to be taken was once again intensely fought. Before 1979, Thatcher’s record on Europe had not been notable for the Eurosceptic tone it took on towards the end of her premiership. In 1975, she had DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-12

Reforming and redirecting Europe 171 supported the campaign to remain in the EEC and the 1979 Conservative manifesto restated its commitment to playing a ‘leading and constructive role’ in Europe. Thatcher herself said that ‘You are going to get nowhere if you join a club and you spend all your time carping and criticizing it.’2 Her first two Foreign Secretaries, Peter Carrington (1979–82) and Francis Pym (1982–83), looked to establish a more positive relationship with the EEC. The Daily Telegraph suggested that Britain could become ‘a powerful force, the powerful force’ in Europe. Such a role, it said, would be far more effective in securing Britain’s objectives than playing the ‘awkward squad.’3 Attempts were made to modify the representations of Britain as a ‘bad European.’ Some in Britain accused the French of having deliberately disseminated this image since the time of de Gaulle in order to promote their own European credentials. The Foreign Office put its weight behind these calls for Britain to take a more constructive approach towards Europe, repeating the argument many diplomats had been making for several years that if this was not done Britain would find itself increasingly isolated in a Franco-German-led Europe. Hopes that Britain could exercise influence, even leadership, in Europe had not been entirely given up. Against this, Thatcher’s underlying ‘Little Englander’ sentiments and her combative style soon began to show through. Even her most ardent supporters could not deny that she had little feeling for Europe and Europeans, or for European culture. She was later to write, ‘In my lifetime most of the problems have come from Europe and most of the solutions have come from outside.’4 Thatcher’s character and prejudices, however, were not the only causes of tensions. Britain’s ambitions for Europe on a wide range of issues diverged as much as ever from those of a majority on the Continent, notably in France. In its campaign to reform Europe, the Thatcher Government soon found itself fighting on several fronts. Its key objectives were to create a less bureaucratic and more economically liberal Europe. As Thatcher established a firmer hold over her Party and Government in 1983–84, these policies were promoted in an increasingly aggressive fashion as the more moderate Conservative opinions towards Europe were drowned out by more strident Eurosceptic voices. Personalities Personal relations between European leaders, especially between British Prime Ministers, German Chancellors and French Presidents, had always played a central part in European debates. Given the particularly strong characters of all the incumbents in office in the 1980s, these relations become even more important. The British record here was not a good one. While successive Franco-­German partnerships operated harmoniously and effectively, those between Paris and Bonn on one side and London on the other took on a different style. Relations between Thatcher and her European counterparts, starting with the French President, got off to a bad start and then deteriorated. One British diplomat

172  Reforming and redirecting Europe recorded that Giscard ‘was not someone to whom she ever warmed . . . and she knew the feeling was mutual. She disliked his supercilious airs and his technocratic mindset.’5 John Nott, the Conservative MP and future Minister of Defence, found ‘Giscard’s conceit . . . nauseating . . . even before he became an overweening President.’6 Giscard had an equally poor opinion of Thatcher referring to her as ‘the grocer’s daughter.’ He condemned her ‘obstinacy,’ ‘unwavering opposition’ and ‘dilatory manoeuvres’ when confronted with the European projects being put forward by others.7 In Giscard’s view, she was a prime example of a ‘characteristic British trait that refuses to envisage the possibility that there might be other values and other ways of doing things than their own.’8 Giscard’s account of Thatcher’s intransigent approach to international negotiations was backed up by Ian Gilmour, another of Thatcher’s Ministers. Thatcher, he wrote: did not like collective decision making. The Council Chamber, for her, was not a place for intelligent discussion, for improving mutual understanding or for attempting to achieve a meeting of minds . . . its function was to be dominated by her. If she was successful, then her ‘victories’ were trumpeted by . . . the obedient Conservative press. If the foreigners for some reason proved recalcitrant, then their failure to fall into line and her rigid adherence to her own views were also trumpeted as a victory . . . demonstrating her indomitable courage and her resolve to stand up for Britain . . . victory or triumphant refusal to submit to the collective view was much more important to Thatcherism than the securing of agreement.9 Several accounts pointed to gender differences as an important factor in the failure of Thatcher’s poor personal relations with French and German leaders. Giscard and Schmidt were accused of being ‘very patronizing, even rude, in their treatment of her. . . . They made it clear that she, a mere woman, wouldn’t be able to stand up to these two experienced and knowledgeable men in hard negotiation.’10 Giscard’s version perfectly mirrors this, with the roles inverted. Thatcher, he recorded in his memoirs, was someone who constantly wanted to affirm the superiority of women over men. That was her character: she saw negotiations as a battle, with victors and vanquished . . . after a negotiation in which everyone had been satisfied with the outcome, she would publicly affirm that she had won against the others.11 Unsurprisingly, there were few regrets in London when Giscard lost office in 1981. After some particularly lively exchanges at the Dublin summit in 1980, one of Schmidt’s advisors complained that Thatcher had ‘hurt my Chancellor in his male pride.’12 Equally significant was Thatcher’s later failure to establish a good relationship with Helmut Kohl. Her relations with Mitterrand were more

Reforming and redirecting Europe  173 cordial although they remained opponents on almost all issues facing their two countries. ‘I want my money back’ The question of Britain’s contribution to the EEC budget had never been fully resolved since Britain first entered the Community. The terms agreed in 1972–73 included a promise to reconsider the question ‘should unacceptable situations arise.’ What this meant in practice had never been clearly defined even after Wilson’s renegotiation. Callaghan renewed the demands for a further review in 1978 when he fired the first shot in Britain’s campaign to get a rebate on its contribution to the EEC budget. It was, however, under Margaret Thatcher that all-out war broke out over this issue. In 1979–80, the transitory arrangements agreed to in 1973 were coming to an end. Without a new agreement Britain would contribute 20% of the EEC budget, while accounting for 16% of total EEC GNP, and would receive only 9% of Community spending in return. The ensuing battle dragged on until 1984 during which time it both dominated and poisoned Britain’s relations with the EEC. In fighting this cause, Thatcher refused to follow what had been up to that point the usual practices at European summits. Her second meeting in Dublin saw some particularly acrimonious clashes. According to one account, the ‘air was full of mutual recriminations and the Council chamber was metaphorically littered with broken china.’13 Thatcher proudly recorded in her memoirs that she had given a resounding ‘no’ to offer she was given by the other European leaders to resolve the budget question. She felt that they were testing whether she was ‘able and willing to stand up to them.’ She, of course, was determined to show that she was. Her later account condemned the ‘quintessentially un-English outlook displayed by the Community.’ This, she later wrote, had led her to think of Kipling’s poem ‘Norman and Saxon’ with its references to the English sense of ‘justice and right’ and ‘fair dealing’ which, she implied, were alien to those continental Europeans she was confronting.14 Other accounts of her conduct in Dublin were less favourable to her. Giscard swore that he would not ‘allow such a contemptible spectacle to occur again.’15 According to Gilmour, she had given ‘a shrill exposition of the British case’ and had ‘harangued her colleagues.’16 Carrington thought she had shown that she was ‘no bad hand at conducting rows . . . when it came to outfacing foreigners she was in the first league.’ Other Community leaders, he concluded, ‘did not look forward to the next round with her.’17 Thatcher’s European combat was aimed at pleasing her domestic supporters as much as it was at achieving the goals themselves. Gilmour’s interpretation was that for her, as it had been for Wilson before her, the grievance was more valuable than its removal . . . foreign policy was a tool of party or personal politics. However badly things were going in Britain,

174  Reforming and redirecting Europe Mrs Thatcher could at least win some kudos and popularity as the defender of the British people against the foreigner. Hence a running row with our European partners was the next best thing to a war. That this exacerbated anti-European feelings in Britain ‘did not worry her at all.’18 The Labour opposition, itself highly critical of the EEC, was in no position to counter these arguments. Reports from the British Embassy in Paris saw a similar confrontational attitude from the French side. It was, the Ambassador said, an established political principle (in France) that it is more important to be seen to do fierce battle on behalf of French interests than to achieve real victories. Their national hero is, after all, Napoleon who led the flower of the nation to death and ended up defeated.19 One possible solution to the budget conflict could have been to increase Community spending in non-agricultural sectors such as regional aid where Britain would benefit. However, expanding the EEC budget to allow Britain to receive a greater share ran counter to the Thatcherite creed. As Gilmour pointed out, ‘she could conceive no less desirable item of expenditure than payments to foreigners. A crusade against our partners in the EEC over our budget contributions was thus an ideal complement to her monetarist crusade.’20 The insistent message from both Thatcher and Geoffrey Howe, Chancellor (1979–83) and then Foreign Secretary (1983–89), was that Europe needed to put its financial house in order by reining in its spending, notably on such economically inefficient sectors as agriculture. The disagreements between Britain and its partners were aggravated by the contrasting accounting methods they used to calculate the various budget contributions. But on one point, all sides agreed: any decrease in Britain’s payments could only be made up for either by reducing the overall budget, never a likely outcome, or by raising the contributions from other member states. Neither prospect was unlikely to win Britain any support from its EEC partners. Thatcher believed that she was simply ‘asking for her money back.’ This idea of a juste retour was central to the British argument that there should be a reasonable balance between what a country paid in and what it got out. The inequity of the existing financial arrangements was obvious to her and to most people in Britain, all the more so as Britain’s net contribution approached £1 billion in the early 1980s. Only Germany among EEC members was in a comparable position. The others were, in Carrington’s words, ‘doing extremely well at our expense.’21 That the French were such clear beneficiaries was especially galling to Thatcher. France, she said, was ‘the kept woman of Europe.’22 Other angry outbursts followed. ‘How dare they treat Britain in this way?’, she proclaimed. ‘Have they forgotten that we saved all their skins in the War?’23 None of this made the work of the British diplomats involved in the budget renegotiations any easier. David

Reforming and redirecting Europe 175 Hannay, whose job it was to negotiate for Britain in the European Commission, later recalled ‘the debilitating trench warfare over Britain’s budget contribution’ and how the ‘harping on populist phrases about getting our money back was actually making it more difficult to achieve our objective.’24 Meanwhile, as the budget debate intensified, it began to ‘etch into British DNA the notion that EEC membership was a battle: us versus them; win or lose.’ It became the ‘diplomatic equivalent of a foreign war.’25 Thatcher’s way of thinking about the British budget contribution infuriated the French who argued, like many other Europeans, that it was contrary to the European spirit and looking at membership in an altogether non-communautaire way. According to Robin Renwick, another of the British diplomats involved in the budget renegotiation, ‘Even to talk in Brussels about our net contribution was regarded as like spitting in church.’26 The French case against allowing a substantial rebate to the British was laid out by Giscard. The Community, he said, should not be seen as an enterprise in accounting or financial compensation where everyone only brings in what they are sure to get out in return. All the member states receive diverse benefits from their participation in European construction, notably from the opening of the borders. These cannot be measured but they are in any case far greater than the effort that is being asked for.27 Others in France argued that the British had signed up to an agreed set of terms and should now follow them; if Britain paid more than others into the EEC budget it was because it imported so much of its food from outside the EEC which was liable to the EEC’s customs duties. The central problem, however, was not so much the amount paid into the budget as the money paid out, most of which went into the CAP. Thatcher responded to the Europeans’ arguments with her own condemnation of ‘that un-British combination of high-flown rhetoric and pork-barrel politics which passed for European statesmanship.’28 As in the past, the British had the impression that the French, behind their pro-European rhetoric, were doing no more than defending their national interests and that French arguments were ‘a convenient hypocrisy: wrapping national self-interest in the flag of European idealism.’29 An agreement reached in 1980 for a three-year settlement of Britain’s budget contribution did not close the debate. As the tensions and mutual recriminations again mounted, Thatcher considered the possibility of imposing a British veto on the CAP price-fixing if an acceptable permanent agreement was not found but she was forced to back down when advised that there was a legal obligation to make the payments. When the discussions moved onto raising the ceiling on the VAT payments into the EEC budget, a decision that required a unanimous vote of the member states, her threat to use Britain’s veto became more serious. As in the past, the British hoped to secure the support of the West Germans

176  Reforming and redirecting Europe who remained by far the largest contributors to the Community budget. On this question there was some German sympathy for the British case. However, any British rebate would only increase the financial burden placed on the Germans as they would certainly be asked to compensate for the money saved by Britain with an increase in their own contribution. As Thatcher dug in her heels the frustration of the French, Germans and the other Europeans grew. The Germans in particular had their own agenda for Europe and resented this being held up by the never-ending budget debate. The danger for the British, as was so often the case, was that if there was no agreement on this then the others would look to ways of moving forward without them, with all the dangers that this would entail for the future direction of Europe and Britain’s place in it. If this happened, France and Germany, no doubt followed by the majority of the other European states, would reinforce their leading position in Europe and Britain would be pushed further to its outer fringes. The final stages before a deal was reached saw a series of intense clashes between the French and the British as they entered the ‘closing stage of the battle.’30 After some last-minute haggling, a final settlement was reached in June 1984 at the Fontainebleau summit. The judgements of the outcome have varied. The general feeling in Paris was that Thatcher had been forced to back down in the face of French and German pressure. Thatcher had ‘acted like an inflexible accountant’ and had been ‘deaf to appeals on behalf of Europe’s general interest’ before Mitterrand and Kohl, ‘whose growing complicity she rightly feared, finally forced her to accept a compromise.’31 The final rebate set at 66% was portrayed as a clear defeat for Thatcher given that her starting point had been 100%. Thatcher, however, was ‘quietly triumphant, and not without reason’32 according to Renwick. But there had been a serious cost to pay. Thatcher may have won a victory at Fontainebleau, but it soured her relations with other European leaders and made it harder for her to find allies among them for future battles. She had undoubtedly reinforced Britain’s image as an awkward outsider in the European club. Ideological divides and rival European models By the 1980s, the belief that the EEC had been set up, developed and directed by the French for their own benefit, was widely accepted in Britain. Hopes that it could be led onto a more pro-British course, however, had not been entirely abandoned. With the arrival of Thatcher in 1979 and Mitterrand in 1981, Britain and France took divergent paths in their domestic policies. These spilt over into the European debate where the two sides proposed very different ideological models for the others to follow. On one side, Thatcher was in the vanguard of the free-market crusade that was gaining ground all over the world. On the other side, Mitterrand presented himself as the leader of the resistance to this neoliberal tide and as the defender of a European social model.

Reforming and redirecting Europe 177 This ideological rift between Thatcher’s Britain and Mitterrand’s France was also seen in their contrasting views of the relations between Europe and the United States. This had been at the heart of the clash between de Gaulle and the British in the 1960s. Heath had loosened some of the bonds between Britain and the United States in order to present a more European profile to Britain’s future EEC partners. Callaghan had explicitly downplayed Britain’s European relations in favour of strengthened ties with the United States. Thatcher, on coming into office, suggested that this stance might well be modified once again. An initial sign was that her first foreign visit was to Bonn and not to Washington. On various issues, British interests seemed to be aligning themselves more with Europe than with Washington. Working together with the other Europeans in the field of foreign policy was also an area where Britain had several cards to play. However, no such realignment of British policy happened. Thatcher quickly reaffirmed Britain’s role as the United States’ closest ally in Europe and the ‘special relationship’ was enthusiastically cultivated. Thatcher backed this up with calls for the United States to ‘remain the dominant European power militarily and economically.’33 The least move towards some sort of neutralist ‘third force’ in Europe was vehemently opposed. Mitterrand adopted a different posture looking to mitigate the impact of Americanisation and globalisation by building a stronger and more united Europe. On a personal level, while Thatcher established one of the closest Anglo-American relationships with Ronald Reagan, Mitterrand built up a similarly close relationship with Helmut Kohl. Mitterrand, Europe and the Franco-German entente There was some uncertainty about what Mitterrand’s election in 1981 would mean for the country’s approach towards Europe. He initially attempted to transpose some of his domestic political agenda to the European level, declaring in June 1981 that Europe would be ‘socialist or nothing.’ His inauguration speech also included the very Gaullist declaration that it was ‘in the nature of a great nation to devise great plans’ and the promise that France would light ‘humanity’s pathway.’34 From 1982 onwards, Mitterrand increasingly sought to take on a role as the champion of European construction and to present himself as Europe’s leading statesman. The early socialist policies, along with any idea of resorting to import controls to solve France’s financial and economic problems, were largely given up in 1983 when he accepted the need for greater financial rigour, with all that meant for his earlier social and economic policies, as the price that had to be paid to keep France in the EMS. Mitterrand’s commitment to the ideal of Europe did not entirely correspond to that of the European federalists. His concerns to preserve French sovereignty pushed him instead towards a more intergovernmental approach that resisted any rapid or excessive extension of the role and powers of the European Parliament

178  Reforming and redirecting Europe and Commission. Paradoxically Mitterrand feared that Europe would be too weak to play an effective role while at the same time rejecting any idea of the European institutions becoming so strong that they challenged France’s sovereignty, particularly in the fields of defence and foreign policy. Nor had Mitterrand given up on the Gaullist concerns to maintain France’s rank and prestige in the world. Like de Gaulle, he saw Europe, and French leadership of Europe, as a vital element in achieving this aim. Mitterrand’s Europeanism in no way detracted from his strong sense of French patriotism. France and Europe became blurred, sometimes even amalgamated, in official French discourse, with Europe increasingly seen as an extension of France. Developing Europe, having more of Europe, was not seen as a challenge to France or to French independence. Instead, Europe was viewed by Mitterrand as a means to reverse French decline. The promotion of a European technological base, the defence of European, and French, culture against Americanisation were part of a wider defence of a true European identity, with Europe capable of acting on its own and with its own political will. Continuing in the path of de Gaulle and Giscard, Mitterrand put the FrancoGerman partnership at the centre of his European policy replicating the de Gaulle-Adenauer and Giscard-Schmidt relationships with his own alliance with Helmut Kohl. Despite the obvious political differences between them the two leaders successfully worked in tandem placing themselves in a dominant position in Europe, one that the other Europeans, including Thatcher, found unassailable. The contrast between Franco-German relations and those France and Germany had with Britain became more obvious than ever. This marked difference was displayed symbolically in 1984 with the Franco-German commemoration of the Battle of Verdun and the iconic image of Kohl and Mitterrand standing hand in hand. This moving ceremony managed to memorialise both the terrible past and, at the same point, the future, one where their two countries would stand side by side. The commemorations of the battles of the Somme the same year produced nothing similar and gave no message for the future: ‘Kohl and Mitterrand symbolized the relaunched Paris-Berlin relationship that would look forward rather than backwards. . . . Meanwhile, Britain’s memorialization of the Somme and Amiens was a solitary vigil pointing to national isolation and nostalgia.’35 The Single European Act and/or European political integration With the British budget rebate question settled, it seemed that Europe could finally look to the future. Thatcher herself wrote that after the agreement had been reached at the Fontainebleau summit she ‘genuinely believed that . . . Britain would be able to play a strong positive role in the Community.’36 The role she envisaged, however, was far from being shared by other European leaders and it soon became clear that there was no consensus over the direction Europe should

Reforming and redirecting Europe 179 take. Instead the various rivals re-engaged in an ideological battle. In his speech to the Bundestag on 20 January 1983, Mitterrand argued: [T]he Community is founded on two obvious principles: its internal cohesion and its identity vis-à-vis the world beyond. . . . Without European cohesion, there is nothing more than isolated states. Without a distinct international identity, we would disappear in a vague free trade zone.37 It would have been hard to find a clearer antithesis to Thatcher’s notion of Europe. The French and German-led programme to ‘relaunch Europe,’ to strengthen the role of the central European institutions, accepting a greater use of qualified majority voting (QMV), and to accelerate moves towards an economic and monetary union, set the British, French and German models for Europe on a collision course. Mitterrand and Delors, appointed as President of the European Commission in 1985, saw Europe as something more than a marketplace. Trade liberalisation was not opposed but they were determined to go beyond the ‘negative integration’ of simply removing trade barriers. In their eyes, this was just one dimension of a larger and more ambitious programme for Europe that included social measures to mitigate against the negative impact of a purely economic Europe. This had been a French objective from the 1950s. French social policy being more developed than many others in Europe, Paris was afraid of losing competitiveness as a result of its European partners, and commercial rivals, adopting less generous levels of welfare spending. This was most strikingly the case in Britain where the whole ethos of the social and economic reforms being introduced by the Thatcher Government ran in the opposite direction. British policies were designed precisely to achieve what the French most feared: a competitive edge resulting from a lowering of business costs. British plans for Europe At Fontainebleau, the British circulated a discussion paper titled ‘Europe: The Future’ which set out a series of proposals for the Community. In terms of institutional reform, the paper remained limited, insisting on the retention of the national veto and restricting the role and powers of the European Parliament. Its focus was on freeing up the European economy, completing the internal European market and reaffirming the commitment to NATO. While it adopted a significantly more positive tone than had been the case over the previous decade, it continued to reflect Britain’s defensive strategy in Europe that sought to restrain further integration and block the extension of the Community into new areas. Europe, it was argued in London, had gone far and fast enough and should pause to take stock before moving on, let alone accelerating forward. Progress should be evolutionary and organic and did not need further blueprints. Thatcher

180  Reforming and redirecting Europe remained committed to progress on economic reform in Europe but staunchly opposed any more institutional changes and she was determined ‘to fight a strong rear-guard action against attempts to weaken Britain’s own control over areas of vital national interest’38 including social policies, taxation, and immigration. According to David Hannay, the British were looking to see more ‘pragmatism and a more narrowly based set of reforms.’ They ‘were averse to “grand ideas” for the future development of the Community.’ He regretted that ‘there was never in our case some overarching theme around which to work.’39 While the British were attempting to present a more positive attitude, this remained strictly limited. Meanwhile, Mitterrand had his own, far more ambitious, plans for Europe. Leading up to the summit in Milan in June 1985, Thatcher personally presented a draft programme of European reforms to Helmut Kohl in the hope that he would agree to put it to the other leaders as a joint Anglo-German proposal. A day before leaving for Milan the British discovered that Kohl, instead of presenting the project alongside the British, would be putting forward a barely modified version of the British plan under a Franco-German banner. The Germans’ preference for France over Britain had never been more clearly shown. The brutal, but honest, explanation given to the British by one German diplomat was that it was ‘politically impossible for Germany to be seen accepting Britain as wresting the leadership of Europe from France and Germany.’40 All sides came to Milan with similar ideas to reform the Community but ended up in an enormous argument. Hannay saw the French and German action as a ‘spectacular act of discourtesy’; Thatcher thought that theirs was ‘the kind of behaviour that would have got you thrown out of any London club.’41 When the meeting in Milan convened, the ‘battle lines were quickly drawn.’42 Thatcher’s combative style, which had forced concessions from the other Europeans two years before, was now met by a solid European front. Thatcher was also becoming increasingly disappointed at the lack of backing she was getting from the Foreign Office and the Foreign Secretary who, in her view, was far too willing to compromise. Howe’s view was that Thatcher’s tactics only served to limit British influence in Europe and that a more constructive approach was needed. They both agreed, however, that the other Europeans had set an ‘ambush’43 for Britain in Milan by forcing through the decision to convene an intergovernmental conference (IGC) on further European integration and changes to the European treaties. As this was considered to be a purely procedural decision, and not a treaty change, the national veto could not come into play. Howe, like Thatcher, feared that ‘once an IGC had been convened, any and every possible “constitutional” amendment could be proposed and discussed. Pandora’s box would indeed have been opened.’44 The outcome of the Milan summit was a serious reverse for the British and revealed the deep divisions between their views and those of the majority of the other EEC member states. Equally significantly, it confirmed that the collaboration between France and Germany had become more firmly entrenched than

Reforming and redirecting Europe 181 ever. Thatcher’s isolation and her inability to put together a workable alliance made it hard for her to achieve her objectives. Milan had produced a good deal of ill feeling all round. Thatcher herself was furious at the ‘iniquitous way she had been treated.’ When Hannay remarked that his role was like playing snakes and ladders, she replied: ‘Oh no. . . . In Brussels, they are all snakes!’ Howe recorded that ‘Milan had been a miserable experience’ leaving them ‘on course for what looked like a bruising, open-ended battle.’45 The single market Thatcher’s priority had always been on the economic dimension of European integration. Her aim was now to create a genuine internal market, something that the Treaty of Rome had pointed to but which, in many areas, remained far from completion. A single market had been established in industrial goods and in agriculture, but the service sector, transport and telecommunications were still subject to a long list of national barriers. It was in these areas that the British were more successful. Having accepted free trade in those areas where they were less competitive, the British now set out to achieve the same gains in those where they were. This crusade was carried on with ‘messianic zeal’46 by Thatcher. Directing Europe onto this more favourable ground allowed Britain, exceptionally, to position itself at the forefront of the European debate. The next European summit in Luxembourg in December 1985 followed the well-established pattern of ill-tempered exchanges between Thatcher and the other European leaders. The Italian Foreign Minister’s remark that he ‘was glad never to have been employed in a business run by the British Prime Minister . . . necessitated a lengthy break while tempers cooled off and apologies were offered.’47 However, after a gruelling two days’ of intense discussions, a deal was reached. Most of the objectives that Thatcher had set prior to the meeting were met. Closer cooperation on foreign policy was a shared objective where an agreement was easily found. Britain’s insistence that the rule of unanimity should continue to be applied to any tax proposals ensured that this would be kept within the exclusive remit of national Governments. Against this, Thatcher had been forced to concede greater use of QMV, an extension of the areas of competence of the Community to include research and technology, the environment, regional policy and some aspects of social policy, and expanded powers for the Commission and Parliament. The area of greatest concern to Thatcher was the inclusion in the final text of the objective of economic and monetary union. She had fiercely resisted the demands of the French and Germans to agree to a formal commitment to this. The barely concealed threat here was that the other EEC members would go ahead without the British, and their Danish allies, if they refused to sign up. Thatcher was forced to back down. This defeat, however, was compensated for by the agreement to complete the moves towards the single market by 1992.

182  Reforming and redirecting Europe Although the single market was also supported by Delors, Mitterrand and Kohl, Thatcher was keen to present it as a British-led policy and as an example of British leadership in Europe. Howe later defended the agreement reached in Luxembourg as ‘Thatcherism on a European scale.’48 Howe, unlike Thatcher, was prepared to accept the concessions made by, or forced on, the British as the give and take that was an inescapable part of life inside the Community. Thatcher, at the time, was also pleased with the outcome although she later took a different line. The argument that she had not fully understood the consequences of what she was signing up to in Luxembourg was refuted by her close adviser, Charles Powell, as ‘absurd.’49 One British account recorded that Delors ‘was downcast’ that the Luxembourg meeting had ‘achieved so little’ and that he felt that the ‘Commission’s White Paper had been betrayed’ with ‘too many issues fudged.’50 Delors’ disappointment should have been a source of satisfaction for the British. Delors’ own account gives a different impression. In his memoirs he described the Single European Act (SEA) as his ‘favourite Treaty.’51 In fact, the SEA was a compromise. For some, it was the means to kick-start Europe after a long period of ‘Eurosclerosis’ which had seen the failure of the Genscher-Colombo plan in 1981 and the Spinelli Treaty in 1984. Others hoped that it would give a new impulse to EMU. Thatcher would have been pleased if it had marked the end of the process of European integration altogether. Thatcher’s European paradox Thatcher herself later recognised that the price we would have to pay to achieve a Single Market with all its economic benefits . . . was more majority voting in the Community . . . because otherwise particular countries would succumb to domestic pressures and prevent the opening up of their markets. It also required more power for the European Commission.52 At the time, she found it difficult to accept this reality and she continued to resist significant reform of the European institutions and a wider extension of QMV. She categorically rejected calls to complete the economic reforms of the SEA with measures designed to mitigate its effects on the most vulnerable in society. The argument that a single market would require a single currency, EMU and common fiscal policies, and in time a political union, was out of the question for her. Yet despite this resistance to the deepening of European integration, and her increasingly Eurosceptic tone, Thatcher’s Britain was becoming more connected to Europe in many ways. The inconsistencies in Thatcher’s approach towards Europe became more visible in the last years of her premiership. Unlike Howe and other more pragmatic pro-European Conservatives, she could never reconcile an economically liberal Europe with strengthened European institutions.

Reforming and redirecting Europe  183 For her, free trade required less European institutional authority, not more. Her populist defence of British sovereignty against the integrationist attacks coming from Brussels and Strasbourg became more determined at the same time as the whole of Europe was increasingly adopting the liberal economic and social model that she was successfully promoting. Thatcher and her Eurosceptic Conservative supporters backed up their campaign in Europe by proclaiming that Britain was an economic success story. The June 1987 Conservative election campaign included a representation of a British bulldog dwarfing a German Alsatian and a tiny French poodle with the caption ‘Now we’ve the fastest growth of any major economy in Europe.’ Other statistics suggested a different picture. The almost atavistic tendency of the British and French to seek to score points over each other continued. Reginald Hibbert’s valedictory despatch as Ambassador in Paris in 1982 argued: ‘Britain is a natural historical rival of France and it seems to suit French Governments to keep the feeling of rivalry with Britain alive.’ His advice for future British policy towards France was ‘Cool, hard, unsentimental bargaining, with many warm words clothing calculated and often combative gestures.’53 Anglo-French relations at the highest level, which had rarely been cordial, became even less so when Jacques Chirac returned as Prime Minister for a second time in 1986. The following year, he was reported as having angrily remarked in response to Thatcher’s attacks on the CAP ‘What more does this housewife want from me? My balls on a platter?’ It was unclear if this message was translated word for word by the interpreters. When she was told that Chirac had compared her to a housewife she replied that it was a ‘shame that more politicians don’t act like housewives. . . . Anyone who wants to win votes should have a good opinion of housewives. Housewives of the world unite.’54 For Thatcher, Chirac was doing the exact opposite, his determination to maintain existing levels of agricultural subsidies showing instead a disregard for the interests of European consumers. The Anglo-French war of attrition over the CAP continued with the two sides coming no closer to a mutual understanding. Thatcher and Chirac continued to fight this battle on both the European and domestic fronts: Chirac always keen to show himself as the defender of French farming interests and France’s rural society, Thatcher to be seen as leading a British mission against the iniquities of the whole CAP. These profound differences continued to poison relations between Britain and France. Hannay recorded the atmosphere at one European summit meeting in 1988 as being ‘heavy with menace and the tone of debate acid.’55 Thatcher regarded the years 1983–87 as relatively successful ones for Britain. Her clashes with the other Europeans had, she said, generally ended with a ‘British victory on points.’56 After 1987, she became less confident in her ability to hold the line in Europe, more sceptical towards the whole European project and more determined to keep Britain’s distance from it. Many observers in France thought that, on the contrary, the British had been only too successful in their efforts to reform Europe, particularly with regard to the CAP. According to one

184  Reforming and redirecting Europe high-ranking French civil servant, the CAP had once been a ‘remarkable success of European construction, the model for the common policies to be built in other fields’ but, he sadly concluded, twenty years after its introduction, all that were left were its ‘grandiose ruins.’57 Thatcher versus Delors If Thatcher could point to some relative successes in the economic field, there was a growing feeling that Britain was rapidly losing ground on the institutional front. Britain’s opposition to a federal Europe had been a common thread running throughout the previous decades but its reluctance to board that particular European bus had not prevented it from setting off. By the 1980s, the bus had been on the road for some time and seemed likely to continue on its journey for some time to come. With Jacques Delors’ nomination as President of the Commission, the federalist cause was given a new and more effective champion. The Commission, under his leadership, saw itself as a major player on the European scene. The showdown between the federalist ‘ayatollahs’58 in Brussels and Thatcher was unavoidable. Over the next five years, this became something of a personal feud. Delors became the enemy Mrs Thatcher often seemed to need for the successful prosecution of the politics of battle. The names of many defeated enemies were gouged on her tally-stick: Galtieri of Argentina, Scargill of the miners, Heath of Old Conservatism. Here was a European candidate who might soon be fit to join them.59 Another account portrays Thatcher and Delors as the ‘embodiments of two cultures.’ One was ‘a Protestant individualist, a daughter of the nation of shopkeepers (Grantham branch), an inheritor of Nonconformist values of work and self-reliance, and an alumna of the hard school of Westminster politics’ and the other was ‘a Catholic paternalist . . . part of the financial bureaucracy, an activist in a white-collar Christian trade union, whose entry into politics had been as a back-room advisor.’60 In the long list of personal and ideological confrontations between Britain and France, the Delors-Thatcher battle stands out as one of the most intense. The Commission had long been seen by many in Britain as a vehicle for French influence. One British diplomat thought that Delors’ arrival ‘meant changing the Commission into a Tammany Hall with a French accent.’61 His combination of strong federalist beliefs and an incorrigibly French outlook on the world was a dangerous mix for Thatcher and her supporters. His opinions did not, however, always coincide with those of Mitterrand who remained unwilling to see too great a transfer of national sovereignty to a federal Europe. Once in office, Delors made it clear that his ambitions for Europe went well beyond the limited horizons of the single market and an intergovernmental structure that left

Reforming and redirecting Europe 185 the member states’ sovereignty largely untouched. In deliberately provocative fashion, he set out to challenge Thatcher’s vision of Europe declaring in a speech to the European Parliament in July 1988 that 80% of economic legislation would be enacted by an embryonic European Government within ten years. The following September, he took his message to the TUC annual conference where he defended the idea of collective bargaining at the EU level and called for greater workers’ rights through strengthened European legislation. Thatcher saw these various statements as a step too far. According to Charles Powell, ‘in her mind, a Rubicon had been crossed. The pragmatism of her earlier years as Prime Minister gave way to a conviction that any further integration was no longer compatible with our sovereign statehood.’ She became determined to block ‘the Community’s incessant power grabs.’62 Thatcher’s counterattack came a few days after Delors’ salvo in Blackpool in a speech to the College of Europe in Bruges. In this, she gave her clearest exposition so far of what she thought was wrong with the Community and of the very different path she wanted it to take. Her first target was the unelected and bureaucratic Brussels machine with its centralising ambitions. This was summed up by her famous assertion: ‘We have not successfully rolled back the frontiers of the state in Britain, only to see them re-imposed at a European level.’ She attacked the CAP and called on the EEC to encourage economic enterprise and free trade.63 The negative and defensive tone stood out in much of the speech. It was as much about what Thatcher wanted to block as what she wanted to propose. The projects for Europe being put forward by Mitterrand, Kohl and Delors each had their particular variants but were all centred around a common theme. Thatcher objected to all of them. The ‘social Europe’ they promoted was objectionable because it would raise the costs for businesses across the EEC and make them less competitive than countries such as the United States and Japan. Should these higher costs resulting from more generous social policies be used to justify the introduction of even higher levels of trade protectionism then her objections would be greater still. It has, however, also been argued that the Bruges speech contained a positive message that offered an alternative future direction for Europe. According to this view, it was neither a Eurosceptic manifesto nor a surrender to the Conservative Eurosceptics but rather ‘a manifesto for a new direction . . . that would make the European Community more successful, not undermine and weaken Britain’s membership.’ Thatcher, Powell argued, ‘fought for a better Europe. . . . Her battle was not to emasculate it, let alone abandon it.’64 If Thatcher’s Bruges speech had a positive underlying message, it was not one that fitted in with what most people on the Continent wanted to hear. ERM, EMS and EMU European Economic and Monetary Union (EMU) had been discussed as long ago as the early 1970s and the first European Monetary System (EMS) had been set up in 1978. In 1986, the SEA had been ambiguous on this and had described

186  Reforming and redirecting Europe its aim as no more than ‘Cooperation in Economic and Monetary Policy.’ What precisely this entailed was unclear. The question could not remain unanswered forever. This came down to a choice between a single European currency, a modified form of the EMS, or the creation of a new European currency, a ‘hard ECU,’ that would operate alongside, but not replace, the existing national currencies. Thatcher and Nigel Lawson, the Chancellor (1983–89), were opposed to a single currency in principle, seeing it as another utopian project. Should it ever be established, they argued, it would necessarily be a precursor to far greater fiscal, economic and political integration. Lawson, however, supported by Howe, feared that remaining outside the ERM would allow France and Germany to reinforce their bilateral direction of the EEC. The moves towards EMU were accelerated in June 1988 when the European Council agreed to set up a committee of central bankers under Delors’ chairmanship. Howe was in favour of participating in the work being carried out by Delors in the hope that this would enable Britain to direct it in a more favourable direction. He repeated his earlier warnings that the British risked being once again left behind as the other Europeans went ahead without them. The debate in the British Cabinet over joining the ERM continued until Howe and Lawson, threatening to resign if Thatcher did not give way on this, finally forced her to announce in June 1988 that Britain would enter the ERM the following year. Thatcher had been forced to back down but her determination to pursue her rear-guard action against the calls to take Britain further into the EMU did not waver. In one of her wittier moments she told the Conservative Party Conference in October 1990 that a single European currency ‘would be entering a federal Europe through the back-Delors.’65 The message was repeated in the House of Commons. Delors, she said, ‘wanted the European Parliament to be the democratic body of the Community, he wanted the Commission to be the Executive and he wanted the Council of Ministers to be the Senate.’ Her famous answer to this was ‘No. No. No.’ The Community, she said, was ‘on the way to cloudcuckoo land.’66 By the time she was making these arguments, her position in Europe and at home, where she was facing irresistible opposition from within her own Cabinet, had become untenable. At her final European summit in Rome, she was more isolated than ever. Kohl and Mitterrand pushed ahead with their plans for EMU regardless of Thatcher’s opposition. Threats to veto any moves by the other Europeans towards a single currency were by this time futile. Conclusion: winning the ideological debate After being forced out of office in November  1990, Thatcher continued her fight from the backbenches. Her memoirs added to her anti-European reputation. Indeed, she appeared to want to cultivate precisely this image. For some, she became a beacon of the Eurosceptic campaign that eventually convinced a majority of the British people to give up the fight in Europe and leave the EU.

Reforming and redirecting Europe 187 Others added her to the long list of British leaders who had failed to place Britain in a leading position at the centre of the European stage. Her years in office undoubtedly saw Britain become more distanced politically from the majority of the other EEC member states. Yet there were always grounds for seeing her as the winner in the ideological battle for Europe. There was a serious effort to reform the CAP from 1987 as the budgetary pressures on it grew to unsustainable levels, although this was not only due to the British. The Single Market can be seen as a significant legacy of Thatcher’s European vision. In one account her support for the SEA made her the ‘founding mother of the new Europe.’67 Several French observers reached the same conclusions, although with far less enthusiasm for what they saw as the ideological victory of Thatcherism in Europe. At one point, Mitterrand, in a ‘mournful admission,’68 recognised that his ideas were losing out to those of Thatcher and Reagan. In her last speech as Prime Minister to the House of Commons, she pointed to her Government’s positive record in Europe over the previous decade, one that showed the will to promote its model for Europe, fight for Britain’s interests and resist the efforts of others to lead Europe in the wrong direction. ‘During the past eleven years,’ she told the House, her Government, ‘have had a clear and unwavering vision of the future of Europe and Britain’s role in it.’ No other Government had fought more resolutely against subsidies, state aids to industry and protectionism; unnecessary regulation and bureaucracy and increasing unaccountable central power at the expense of national Parliaments. . . . We have fought attempts to put new burdens and constraints on industry. This combative spirit resonated with parts of the Conservative Party and British electorate but it was not sufficient to lead Europe. Thatcher’s claim, made in the same speech, ‘that Britain has done more to shape the Community over the past eleven years than any other member state,’ notably in driving forward the single market which, she said ‘will be the most significant advance in the Community since the treaty of Rome itself,’69 typically underestimated the major roles taken by others in Europe who were leading it in the opposite direction from the one she set out. Thatcher’s later account paints a less positive picture both of Europe and of Britain’s success in leading it than the one she gave to Parliament in October 1990. Europe, she wrote in her memoirs, had taken an irrevocable wrong turn in the mid-1980s as it was led astray by the European federalists.70 As a consequence, she argued, Britain had already irretrievably lost the leadership of Europe. In reality, this political leadership had never been attainable given Thatcher’s inability to find sufficient support among the other Europeans. As she ‘hacked her way, armed with a machete, through the European jungle,’71 she appeared to prefer her solitary situation to any constructive or collective approach. John Major was later told by another European leader at

188  Reforming and redirecting Europe a later EU summit that Thatcher had been ‘a unifying force. . . . She unites all of us against her.’72 From such a marginalised position and with such an abrasive style, Thatcher’s Britain had little hope of ever playing a leading role in Europe. Notes 1 Renaud’s ‘Miss Maggie’ released in 1985. 2 Sergeant, Maggie, 32. 3 The Daily Telegraph, 10 April 1979. Quoted in Sharp, Thatcher’s Diplomacy, 28. 4 The Guardian, 6 October 1999. 5 Renwick, Journey, 94–95. 6 Nott, Here Today, 152. 7 Giscard, Les Français, 94, 103; Baratier, Giscard, 58–61. 8 Giscard, Pouvoir, III, 752. 9 Gilmour, Dancing With Dogma, 258. 10 Tugendhat, Making Sense, 122. 11 Baratier, Giscard, 61. 12 Tugendhat, Making Sense, 122. 13 Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 98. 14 Thatcher, Downing Street, 80–82. 15 Young, Blessed Plot, 314. 16 Gilmour, Dancing with Dogma, 235. 17 Carrington, Things Past, 319. 18 Gilmour, Dancing with Dogma, 240. 19 PREM 19/737. Quoted in Wall, European Community, 217. 20 Gilmour, Dancing with Dogma, 233–34. 21 Carrington, Things Past, 316. 22 Quoted in Adamthwaite, Britain, France and Europe, 188. 23 Renwick, Journey, xi. 24 Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 121, 105–6. 25 Wall, Reluctant European, 4; Broad, European Dilemmas, 150–51. 26 Renwick, Journey, 95. 27 Bossuat, Faire l’Europe, 454. 28 Thatcher, Downing Street, 727. 29 Wall, European Community, 266. 30 Howe, Conflict, 399. 31 Vedrine, “Quai d’Orsay,” 234. 32 Renwick, Journey, xiii. 33 Thatcher, Path to Power, 472. 34 Orban, Puissance, 172, 290. 35 Sweeney, Europe Illusion, 336. 36 Thatcher, Downing Street, 536–57. 37 Speech to the Bundestag, 20 January 1983. 38 Thatcher, Downing Street, 552–53. 39 Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 128, 135–36. 40 PREM 19/1492. Quoted in Wall, European Community, 307. 41 Renwick, Journey, 102. 42 Thatcher, Downing Street, 550. 43 Renwick, Journey, 103. 44 Howe, Conflict, 407.

Reforming and redirecting Europe 189 45 Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 124; Thatcher, Downing Street, 551; Howe, Conflict, 410. 46 Young, Blessed Plot, 326. 47 Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 130. 48 Howe, Conflict, 456–57. 49 Powell, “Thatcher,” 139. 50 Howe, Conflict, 457; Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 131. 51 Delors, Mémoires, 202–25. 52 Thatcher, Downing Street, 552. 53 Quoted in Grob-Fitzgibbon, Continental Drift, 421. 54 Quoted in Wall, Stranger, 75; Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 137, records Chirac’s remark as ‘fishwife.’ 55 Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 140. 56 Thatcher, Downing Street, 727. 57 Prate, Quelle Europe? 113. 58 Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 144. 59 Young, Blessed Plot, 327. 60 Tombs, Sweet Enemy, 644. 61 Denman, Missed Chances, 278. 62 Powell, “Thatcher,” 141. 63 Speech at Bruges, 20 September 1988. 64 Powell, “Thatcher,” 148–49. 65 Speech to the Conservative Party Conference, 12 October 1990. 66 Hansard, 30 October 1990. 67 Gillingham, European Integration, 136. 68 Quoted in Bell, Long Separation, 246. 69 Hansard, 22 November 1990. 70 Thatcher, Downing Street, 536. 71 Wall, European Community, 312. 72 Major, Autobiography, 265.

References Adamthwaite, Anthony. Britain, France and Europe, 1945–1975. The Elusive Alliance. London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2020. Baratier-Negri, Laurence. Valéry Giscard d’Estaing et le Royaume-Uni. Le rendez-vous manqué avec l’Europe ou le Brexit annoncé? Paris: Sorbonne Université Presses, 2018. Bell, P. M. H. Britain and France 1940–1994 the Long Separation. London: Longman, 1997. Bossuat, Gérard. Faire l’Europe sans défaire la France: 60 ans de politique d’unité européenne des gouvernements et des Présidents de la République française, 1943–2003. Brussels: Peter Lang, 2005. Broad, Roger. Labour’s European Dilemmas. From Bevin to Blair. London: Palgrave, 2001. Carrington, Peter. Reflect on Things Past. The Memoirs of Lord Carrington. London: Collins, 1988. Delors, Jacques. Mémoires. Paris: Orban, 2004. Denman, Roy. Missed Chances. Britain and Europe in the 20th Century. London: Cassell, 1996.

190  Reforming and redirecting Europe Gillingham, John. European Integration. 1950–2003. Superstate or New Market Economy? Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Gilmour, Ian. Dancing With Dogma: Britain Under Thatcherism. London: Simon and Schuster, 1992. Giscard d’Estaing, Valéry. Les Français: Réflexions sur le destin d’un peuple. Paris: Plon, 2000. Giscard d’Estaing, Valéry. Le pouvoir et la vie. Tome 3: Choisir. Paris: Librairie générale française, 2007. Grob-Fitzgibbon, Benjamin. Continental Drift. Britain and Europe From the End of Empire to the Rise of Euroscepticism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016. Hannay, David. Britain’s Quest for a Role. A Diplomatic Memoir From Europe to the UN. London: I. B. Tauris, 2013. Howe, Geoffrey. Conflict of Loyalty. London: Macmillan, 1995. Major, John. The Autobiography. London: Harper Collins, 1999. Nott, John. Here Today, Gone Tomorrow. Recollections of an Errant Politician. London: Politico’s, 2002. Orban, Franck. La France et la puissance. Perspectives et stratégies de politique étrangère (1945–1995). Brussels: Peter Lang, 2012. Powell, Charles. “Margaret Thatcher.” In Prime Ministers on Europe. Half in Half Out, ediyted by Andrew Adonis, 133–50. London: Biteback, 2018. Prate, Alain. Quelle Europe? Paris: Julliard, 1991. Renwick, Robin. A Journey With Margaret Thatcher. Foreign Policy Under the Iron Lady. London: Biteback, 2013. Sergeant, John. Maggie. Her Fatal Legacy. London: Macmillan, 2005. Sharp, Paul. Thatcher’s Diplomacy. The Revival of British Foreign Policy. Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1997. Sweeney, Stuart. The Europe Illusion. Britain, France, Germany and the Long History of European Integration. London: Reaktion, 2019. Thatcher, Margaret. The Downing Street Years. London: Harper Collins, 1993. Thatcher, Margaret. The Path to Power. London: Harper Collins, 1995. Tombs, Robert, and Tombs, Isabelle. That Sweet Enemy. The French and the British From the Sun King to the Present. London: Heinemann, 2006. Tugendhat, Christopher. Making Sense of Europe. London: Viking, 1986. Vedrine, Hubert. “A View from the Quai d’Orsay.” In Cross-Channel Currents. 100 Years of the Entente Cordiale, edited by Richard Mayne, Douglas Johnson, and Robert Tombs, 232–40. London: Routledge, 2004. Wall, Stephen. A Stranger in Europe. Britain and the EU From Thatcher to Blair. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008. Wall, Stephen. The Official History of Britain and the European Community. Volume III: The Tiger Unleashed, 1975–1985. London: Routledge, 2019. Wall, Stephen. Reluctant European. Britain and the European Union From 1945 to Brexit. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2020. Young, Hugo. This Blessed Plot. Britain and Europe From Churchill to Blair. London: Macmillan, 1998.

13 Maastricht, monetary union and enlargement

After eleven years of dealing with Margaret Thatcher, John Major’s arrival at the end of 1990 was welcomed with relief by Britain’s partners in the EEC. Major hoped that he might be able to heal the Conservative Party’s European wounds and at the same time set Britain’s relations with the rest of Europe on a more positive and amiable course. ‘My aims for Britain in the Community,’ he said in March 1991, ‘can be simply stated. I want us to be where we belong – at the very heart of Europe, working with our partners in building the future. That is a challenge we take up with enthusiasm.’1 He gave the same message to the House of Commons the following year. It was in Britain’s interests, he said, for us to be part of the development of our continent. By part, I do not mean a walk-on part; I do not mean simply being a member. I mean playing a leading role in the European Community. I mean helping to determine the direction of policy, building the policies that we want and fighting those that we do not want.2 It was the last of these points, fighting the plans of the other Europeans, that became the foremost characteristic of his Government’s European policies. Given the lack of support for a more positive approach in the country and in his own Party, any other attitude would have been problematic. Major was certainly restrained by these domestic considerations. In fact, he did not require much holding back. From the backbenches, Thatcher threw her considerable weight behind the growing opposition in an effort not only to prevent what she saw as the European juggernaut from moving further along the federalist path but also to reverse it. The debate in Europe over which direction it should take intensified following the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of the Cold War. These pivotal events upset the previous European balances creating both new opportunities and new risks for Britain and France. The battle lines between the rival camps in Europe became clearer than ever as they faced up to the crucial questions relating to EEC/EU enlargement and the impact that this would have on its governance and decision-making processes. DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-13

192  Maastricht, monetary union and enlargement German reunification Thatcher’s negative opinions of Germany and the Germans had been evident long before reunification. Charles Powell identified a ‘wellspring of instinctive anti-Germanism’ in Thatcher’s thinking. ‘For a small girl growing up in Grantham,’ he said, ‘the Germans were about as evil as anything you could think of.’3 This, of course, does not explain why others, such as Heath and Mitterrand, who had even closer wartime experiences of the Germans, came to quite different conclusions. But, as one journalist observed, ‘Margaret Thatcher had a blind spot about Germany.’4 In an attempt to see Germany more clearly and to better understand the implications of the transformations taking place on the Continent, Thatcher convened a seminar at Chequers attended by a group of historians and writers in March 1990. Its remit was to consider the present state of Germany, its history and its future trajectory. Although the experts’ opinions did not correspond to Thatcher’s own views of Germany, the list of conclusions that was drawn up, and subsequently leaked to the press, highlighted some very unflattering aspects of the German national character. More damaging still were the remarks made by Nicholas Ridley, a Minister in Thatcher’s Government. ‘I’m not against giving up sovereignty in principle,’ he said, ‘but not to this lot. You might just as well give it up to Adolf Hitler.’ He described the EMU as ‘a German racket,’ part of a ‘rushed takeover’ of Europe ‘with the French behaving like poodles to the Germans.’5 Although Ridley was forced to resign, it was widely reported that, in private, Thatcher shared most of his views and that she feared that they might ‘find they had not attached Germany to Europe, but Europe to Germany.’6 Thatcher’s ‘Canute-like resistance’7 to German reunification exacerbated her already poor relations with the German Chancellor. Her approach stood little chance of success and she later accepted that this had been her greatest foreign policy failure. As had been the case during previous European debates, she found herself isolated on this issue, even from her closest American allies. The new Bush administration, by offering its strong support to both German reunification and further European integration, cut the ground from under her feet. If the ‘special’ American relationship had disappointed Thatcher on this occasion, she hoped that it might nevertheless be possible to work with Mitterrand in resisting the moves towards a rapid reunification of Germany. Both were concerned by the growing strength of Germany which threatened to upset Europe in ways that would be detrimental to their countries. Although it would create short-term difficulties for Germany, it was entirely foreseeable that its economy would become even more dominant in Europe. The fear in Paris and London, and elsewhere in Europe, was that this economic strength would lead to an equivalent increase in Germany’s political strength. Macmillan’s predictions, made thirty years before, seemed to be on the verge of realisation. Thatcher’s attempts to build an informal coalition of European states, including Russia, as

Maastricht, monetary union and enlargement  193 a means of keeping the new Germany in check proved to be a dead end. The reactions to German reunification and the collapse of Soviet-backed regimes in Eastern Europe were led by Kohl and Bush, not by Mitterrand or Thatcher. Moreover, Mitterrand, whatever fears he may have had, ultimately proved unwilling to break with his country’s traditional support for the Franco-German axis. The French, Hannay rightly predicted, ‘would work out whatever concerns they might have over reunification bilaterally with the Germans, not by ganging up on them internationally.’8 Consequently, Britain found itself further alienated from its key European partners, France and Germany. In many ways, it was France that stood to lose the most from a reunified Germany. The balance in the Franco-German relationship had been steadily moving in Germany’s favour for several years. France’s superior role in the defence field and its nuclear capacity were now much less significant in a post-Cold War Europe and could no longer be used in the same way to justify France’s leading role in the Franco-German couple. Germany was no longer on the Cold War front line and with numerous post-Soviet regimes emerging its focus would inevitably shift eastwards. The need to integrate the ex-East German Lander would involve a heavy financial burden that would add to German concerns over the costs of the CAP. Freed from the geostrategic limits that had been imposed on it since the end of the War, the new Germany would become a formidable force in Europe, one that risked overshadowing all the others, including France. Germany would simply have less need of France and could, therefore, be tempted to look elsewhere. France would only have its European policy and would need Germany more than ever. The centre of political gravity in Europe was moving away from Paris towards Berlin. Ewen Fergusson, the Ambassador to France (1987–92), reported, ‘Many Frenchmen still believe that on the Franco-German tandem, France continues to steer and Germany to pedal,’9 but most Europeans saw that France was losing its ascendancy. Mitterrand was acutely aware of how Europe was evolving after 1989. His initial efforts, like those of Thatcher, were to slow down the speed of change. These events, however, could not be controlled by the French, or by anyone else. Mitterrand was thus forced to change track. Henceforth, his policy was not to organise a coalition of powers to resist German reunification and, if it happened, to then use this to counter German power, but to strengthen the existing Community structures based on Franco-German cooperation. Whereas Thatcher thought reunification required a looser Europe, Mitterrand and Kohl reached the opposite conclusion. Moreover, they were more convinced than ever that the next steps in Europe needed to be led by them and they were determined that Britain should not be allowed to upset this arrangement. For France reunification called for more integration as a means of tying Germany firmly into Europe and holding back any temptation it might have to become a dominant force over its neighbours. The creation of a single European currency and a central European bank were central to this French approach. Kohl shared the same thinking. Inverting

194  Maastricht, monetary union and enlargement Thatcher’s analysis of the German danger, he wanted to put a European roof over Germany and not a German roof over Europe. Maastricht and the creation of a common European currency, sacrificing the Deutschmark, were to be his answer to the fears aroused by a reunified Germany. After their initial divergence over reunification, both the French and the Germans were keen to come together to relaunch Europe. In April 1990, Mitterrand and Kohl set out a detailed proposal to accelerate the moves towards a European political union involving major changes to the existing institutions, wider use of QMV and extending the areas of Community competence to include the environment, health, social policy, energy, research and development, immigration, crime, asylum and a common foreign and security policy. They also agreed to move to the final stage of monetary union. As had been the case under Giscard and Schmidt, this greater urgency was personally driven by both leaders in the face of opposition from within their own countries although it did receive strong backing from the European Parliament and from other member states. The joint declaration by Kohl and Mitterrand was further proof of their countries’ ‘cooperative hegemony’10 in Europe. The British had, once again, been outmanoeuvred and left on the European sidelines. Confrontation at Maastricht France and Germany took the leading roles in the negotiations leading up to the Maastricht summit in December 1991 although their aims did not always coincide. Where Germany pushed for a greater role for the Commission and Parliament, France, supported by Britain, argued, successfully, that major areas of policy should remain within the remit of national Governments working together in the European Council. Despite these different points of view, the FrancoGerman tandem continued to operate with the two sides accepting the need to compromise. The Major Government maintained the same negative approach to Europe as its predecessors but sought to present this in a less aggressive fashion. Completion of the single market remained its priority, cooperation in foreign policy, justice and home affairs was accepted on condition that these remain in the intergovernmental sphere, and Britain called for the rapid extension of the Community to include Austria, Finland and Sweden and then the ex-Soviet bloc republics in Eastern Europe. In more defensive mode, the British ruled out removing its border controls with the rest of the Community as proposed in the 1990 Schengen Convention and the introduction of more QMV into decisions over European-wide social policies. Britain also refused to sign up to the next, decisive, stages of EMU although they did not rule this out for the future. In response to the calls for more powers to be centralised in Brussels as part of a deepening of European integration, Britain championed the concept of subsidiarity as a remedy to the pressures, encouraged by Delors and the European Commission, edging Europe towards more supranationalism. Major’s approach, part

Maastricht, monetary union and enlargement 195 of a long-standing rear-guard action in Europe, was spelt out to the Commons on 20 November in a series of red lines. His essentially negative message could not have been more clearly stated. It was, he said: ‘No federalism. No commitment to a single currency. No Social Chapter. No Community competence on foreign or home affairs or defence. Cooperation in these areas, yes; compulsion, no.’11 The negative tone was backed up by the fighting spirit Major adopted both in Europe and on the home front where he was under growing pressure not to concede further ground to the Europeans. Portraying its role as a heroic resistance against the European danger had become an essential part of the way in which the Major Government presented the European debate. For some observers, it seemed to be deliberately taking a confrontational approach in order to show its domestic critics that it was standing firm. The Maastricht summit was the occasion for another hard-fought battle between the British, French and Germans with the Commission and the other member states also entering the fray. The various combatants came with different approaches and aims. Hurd’s later account gives a sense of the atmosphere. The first day, he wrote, was one ‘of sighting shots . . . the hand-to-hand engagements were for the morrow.’12 There was, nevertheless, enough common ground for agreement to be reached on a wide-ranging list of policies. European citizenship and free movement were accepted. The powers of the European Parliament were extended, notably to approve or veto the appointment of the Commission and its President. QMV was extended to more areas in the European Council, the European Court of Justice was given additional powers and plans for EMU and the single currency were formalised. The British were satisfied with the recognition of the principle of subsidiarity and, most significantly, with the agreement to allow Britain to opt out of the EMU and the Social Chapter on issues of health, working conditions, gender pay equality, and workers’ rights. British insistence on not explicitly mentioning a ‘federal goal’ was accepted. The Treaty still talked of ‘creating an ever-closer Union among the peoples of Europe’ but also accepted that decisions were to be ‘taken as closely as possible to the citizens.’ The EMU agreed to at Maastricht went a long way towards Monnet’s ideal of Europe while the political dimensions remained essentially intergovernmental. The immediate reactions in Britain to the outcome at Maastricht were positive. Chris Patten thought that ‘Major got everything Britain wanted.’13 Hurd argued that ‘the weather had changed’ in Europe and that ‘Supranational rhetoric now belonged to nostalgic outsiders.’14 Timothy Garton-Ash saw ‘Maastricht as Monnet’s Waterloo or indeed as Jacques Delors’ Waterloo . . . a Waterloo of a certain, specifically French, vision of how we are to build Europe.’15 Delors was less happy, recognising that his aims had been only very partially met. One of Major’s spokesmen claimed that it had been ‘game, set and match for Britain.’ This ‘triumphalist crowing,’ Major admitted later, was unhelpful and ‘should not have been said.’ At the time, he was unwilling to disown the words attributed to him and he was happy to receive on his return from Maastricht ‘the modern

196  Maastricht, monetary union and enlargement equivalent of a Roman triumph.’16 The sense of British victory was short-lived. As Hurd pointed out: In diplomacy it is almost always a mistake to describe a negotiating success as a triumph. The words ‘game, set and match’ . . . did much more harm than good. Negotiation, unlike tennis, is about compromise. Absolute phrases can antagonise your negotiating partners abroad without convincing your critics at home.17 The remarks attributed to Major produced precisely these reactions on the Continent and in Britain. For David Reynolds, ‘Major’s aides trumpeted this as a famous victory, another Waterloo. In fact, Dunkirk was a more apt historical analogy – a skilful retreat, leaving the British free but alone. And this time, there would be no ‘Overlord.’’18 As Hurd had warned and Major predicted, the positive reaction to the agreement reached at Maastricht did not last long as the Conservative Party continued to move in a Eurosceptic direction. Beef wars The emergence of the so-called ‘beef war’ following the outbreak of BSE in British herds in the 1980s added to the difficulties in the relations between Britain and its EU partners. There had been other ‘food wars’ before and frequent protests by French farmers against the import of British lambs which produced outrage in the Francophobe British tabloids and led, in 1990, to an emergency debate in the House of Commons. In 1994, a new maritime front was opened in an Anglo-French ‘fish war’ with French fishermen, according to one report in the Daily Telegraph, ‘on the rampage . . . destroying wholesale fish supplies . . . sacking a supermarket’ and blockading Channel ports.19 It was, however, the question of beef that raised the greatest indignation. Beef and dairy constituted the largest sector in British agriculture and the ban on imports of British beef by the United States in 1989 and by the EU in 1996 had serious consequences for British farmers. It was as much the psychological impact as the economic one that fuelled the crisis. The British media’s treatment of the question added to the controversy, depicting it as a ‘European assault on the sanctity of roast beef as our national culinary story.’20 The British press was often more than willing to use this to pick a fight with Europe. When the Government attempted to flex its muscles, The Sun, in its typical style, declared ‘Major Shows Bull at Last. He tells the EU: It’s war.’21 In reality, Major’s policy of non-cooperation with the EU during this crisis, in a vain attempt to copy de Gaulle’s earlier empty chair policy, was a ‘feeble half measure.’22 The French estimate of an earlier British ‘assault’ on Europe as ‘pin pricks’ could well have been applied. John Major adopted a similar jingoistic tone to the one being used in the newspapers. He was, he said, ‘incensed’ and ‘affronted’23 by the EU ban on British beef. His

Maastricht, monetary union and enlargement 197 critics accused him of deliberately aggravating the conflict with his patriotic posturing in an attempt to placate the Eurosceptics in his Party. At no time did his Government show empathy for the justifiable fears of BSE in other European countries or sympathy with its EU counterparts that were having to face their own electorates’ concerns. Major’s attempts to play hardball only further envenomed British relations with the rest of Europe and did nothing to heal divisions within his Party. Eurosceptics in the Conservative Party continued to see the EU ban ‘as an opportunity to declare war on Brussels.’24 The Beef crisis touched a particularly raw nerve and was the subject of heated debates in Parliament. One Conservative MP accused the French of covering up their own cases of BSE. Another returned to the previous ‘lamb war’ with a particularly warlike account of a visit to France: ‘When I marched off a lorry containing sheep that had entered a French port,’ he told the Commons: [I]t was almost like landing on D-day. The port was deserted and we were cowering and cringing like the lead man in a fighting patrol, waiting for the French farmers to attack us, and I can promise that there were no police about. He was not, he assured the House, about to give up and, in the best ‘Dunkirk spirit,’ asserted that if needs be the country could ‘endure five years as a fortress’ after which British agriculture would emerge ‘in good shape and ready to fight.’25 The Sun led the way in this Europhobe campaign proclaiming that, if Brussels was able to stop Britain from selling its beef around the world, Britain would cease to be an independent sovereign nation and would become ‘just one of the herd.’ John Bull, the article concluded, ‘has been neutered.’26 It carried on the combat over the following years publishing a special French edition with the headline ‘Nous ne voulons pas la GUERRE mais la France a tort,’ ‘We don’t want war but France is wrong.’27 Major himself struck a similar note in his speech to the Conservative Party Conference in 1993 when he told Britain’s ‘European colleagues’ to ‘Get your tractors off our lawn.’ Had the positions been reversed, with the French announcing that they had a serious disease in their food supply chain that posed a risk to public health, it was highly probable that those Eurosceptics who were most vociferous in their attacks on France would have been the first to demand that the Channel ports be blockaded against French imports. Monetary union After years of discussions, numerous ups and downs and staunch British resistance, an agreement to implement a full EMU was finally reached at the Madrid summit in 1989. This was to be achieved in a three-stage programme, moving first to closer coordination, then tighter limits on currency fluctuations and ending with a single currency. Thatcher had reluctantly agreed to British

198  Maastricht, monetary union and enlargement participation in the ERM but had always made plain her opposition to the whole idea of EMU. The Major Government, while accepting that it would be unable to prevent the other Europeans from moving ahead, was no more enthusiastic about British participation. Achieving an opt-out from EMU at Maastricht was seen as the most important of its red lines. Just as previous British Governments had questioned the ability of the other Europeans to realise their ambitious plans, Major now cast doubt on the chances of success for this latest example of what he dismissed as unrealistic European enthusiasm. The ‘moves towards a single currency,’ he said, had ‘all the potency of a primitive rain dance.’28 Such arguments were designed as much to reassure the fears of British Eurosceptics as to dissuade the other Europeans from going ahead. Major’s words had little or no impact on the EMU debate in the EU or on his opponents in the Conservative Party who dismissed his words as pious hopes that misrepresented the real ways in which Europe was moving. In 1994, Major’s former Chancellor, Norman Lamont, said: We deceive the British people and we deceive ourselves if we claim that we are winning the argument in Europe. . . . There is no argument in Europe. There is Britain’s point of view, and then there is the rest of Europe. . . . There is not a shred of evidence at Maastricht or since then that anyone accepts our view of Europe.29 British proposals for a ‘hard ECU’ working in parallel to national currencies as an alternative to the single currency were correctly seen by the other Europeans as a diversionary tactic. For Delors, the British Government was ‘leading a campaign which aimed at delaying, for as long as possible, the advent of economic and monetary union.’30 If this was their aim, they were having little success. The French and the other supporters of EMU were able to deflect these British attempts to derail their project with little difficulty. EMU was another lost battle but other opportunities for Britain to show its leadership in Europe were still available. The economic policies that Thatcher and Major had been promoting in Britain for fifteen years, and which had been a key part of the 1986 agreement among the Europeans, were still making headway. There was some justification for the argument that Britain was, in fact, winning the ideological battle in Europe. In 1993, Michael Howard, one of the more Eurosceptical members of the Major Government, forecast: Over the next few years we have a chance to create a Europe in Britain’s image. The flexibility, the competitiveness, the resistance to regulation which we prize so highly will be increasingly attractive to our European partners. The straitjacket of uniformity will be recognised as intolerable. Common sense is on our side.31

Maastricht, monetary union and enlargement 199 Britain’s deregulated economy was not a model that appealed to many in France although it was seen far more favourably elsewhere in Europe. After 1990, the regime changes across central and Eastern Europe changed Europe in ways that were potentially advantageous to the British and disadvantageous to the French. The enlargement of the EU to include so many new members, on top of Austria, Sweden and Finland who joined in 1995, would inevitably transform the EU. The French feared that enlargement would mean the dilution of Europe and before taking this step they called for a reinforcement of the existing EU structures. The concern in Paris was that enlargement would mean a return to the OEEC-style Europe that French leaders had been so opposed to in the 1950s and 1960s. This was precisely what the British aspired to. French reluctance to open the door to the EU to the countries queuing up to join was condemned by the British as an attempt to return to the Gaullist concept of a ‘little Europe’ that could be more easily dominated by France. The German Government wanted the deeper European integration being called for in Paris and the enlargement and the free market approach being promoted by Britain. Conclusion: hamstrung in Europe Like Thatcher before him, John Major failed to win sufficient support to give credibility to his ambition for Britain to play a leading role in Europe. Nor was he able to prevent others from taking Europe further in a direction that he disapproved of. Major’s early success in improving Anglo-German relations was not confirmed over the following years as he fell out with Kohl during the negotiations over the Maastricht Treaty and the British veto of the German-backed candidate, Jean-Luc Dehaene, to replace Delors as EU Commissioner. The lack of German support in the days leading up to ‘Black Wednesday’ in September 1992 when the pound was forced out of the ERM was particularly resented. Major’s assessment, a year before he left office, reflected the feeling that had been growing in Britain for several years. Hopes of placing Britain ‘at the heart of Europe’ in a leading role were giving way to the realisation that Britain was being increasingly pushed to the sidelines and left behind. ‘For over 30 years,’ Major admitted, ‘we have been on the back foot in Europe’;32 in EU meetings ‘Delors, Kohl and Mitterrand mattered’ while Britain’s part was to be ‘the grit in the oyster.’33 Britain’s role had been reduced to that of European irritant while the others pushed ahead with their efforts. Major did, however, note two exceptions, the single market and enlargement, in his otherwise gloomy evaluation of Britain’s record in Europe. These were significant British successes but they were overshadowed by other issues that were pushed to the forefront of the national debate on Europe by the increasingly vociferous anti-European campaigners. In Britain, the rising tide of Euroscepticism, reflected in and encouraged by large parts of the media, suggested that the country was beginning to give up the

200  Maastricht, monetary union and enlargement fight in Europe altogether. One poster put out by James Goldsmith’s Referendum Party declared ‘John Major is impotent,’ adding for good measure that Tony Blair, the leader of the opposition, ‘is dumb.’34 For the most hard-line Eurosceptics, the only way forward was to leave the EU. In their view, it was no longer a question of trying to slow down or halt the integration of Europe or of attempting to redirect it along different lines, somehow managing to convince Britain’s EU partners to follow London’s lead towards a more economically liberal and looser structure. There was now a growing demand for Britain to give up the fight for the leadership of Europe altogether and accept that this battle had been won by the ‘Euro-federalists.’ The growing band of Eurosceptics demanded that Britain should cut its losses and break free from the EU in order, as the Brexit campaigners later put it, to ‘take back control.’ This, of course, meant abandoning any claim to a leading role in Europe. For the Eurosceptics this role had long been a chimera and there should be no attempt to cling onto a lost cause. Responsibility for Britain’s defeat in Europe was easily placed on the French, sometimes acting in collusion with the Germans. The Eurosceptic argument was that the EU had been from the outset a French invention specifically designed with their interests in mind. By the mid-1990s, these Franco-German ties were seen by British Eurosceptics as being ‘so strong that all those states which choose to remain in the Community have to accept the fact of Franco-German leadership, with most of the political drive coming from France.’35 For Eurosceptics in Britain, any form of federalism in Europe was bad enough; a federal Europe led by the French and the Germans was all the more objectionable. That France and Germany were the leaders of Europe had become obvious by the end of Major’s premiership but the British themselves had also been responsible for bringing this about through their own failures. Britain’s lack of direction in Europe had been the result of the unwillingness of successive British governments to undertake a serious examination of the country’s long-term needs and objectives and to face up to the difficult choices and the necessary re-evaluations that this would entail. This had inevitably left it to the other Europeans, notably the French and Germans, to set both the direction and the pace of European developments. In the lead-up to Maastricht, Major admitted that he was ‘procrastinating on principle.’36 Distrust in the British, and disinterest in what the British were proposing, had become widespread across the Continent. Between the continental Europeans, and most importantly between the French and Germans, there continued to be an underlying sense of mutual confidence and a desire to work together. Major was unable to alter the fundamental nature of Britain’s relationship with its European partners. The 1992 Conservative election manifesto claimed that, as a result of the British victory at Maastricht, ‘Britain is at the heart of Europe; a strong and respected partner. We have played a decisive part in the development of the Community over the past decade.’ This was a message that many people wanted to hear but it was no longer convincing, either in Britain or across the Continent where the initiative for the next,

Maastricht, monetary union and enlargement 201 decisive, moves was being seized by others. In these conditions the idea of British leadership could never be plausible. By the time Major left office, ‘Britain was hardly “the heart of Europe” – more its grumbling appendix.’37 Notes 1 Speech at Bonn, 11 March 199. 2 Hansard, 24 September 1992. 3 Quoted in Young, Blessed Plot, 320. 4 Sergeant, Maggie, 76. 5 Quoted in Daddow, Britain and Europe, 41. 6 Renwick, Journey, 236–37. 7 Renwick, Journey, xxvi. 8 Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 152. 9 Quoted in Wall, Stranger, 119. 10 Pederson, Integration of Europe. 11 Quoted in Major, Autobiography, 274. 12 Hurd, Memoirs, 420–21. 13 Patten, “Major,” 160. 14 Hurd, Memoirs, 429. 15 Young, “The Last Europeans.” 16 Major, Autobiography, 288. 17 Hurd, Memoirs, 421. 18 Reynolds, Island Stories, 103. 19 Daily Telegraph, 4 February 1994. 20 Patten, “Major,” 161–62. 21 The Sun, 22 May 1196. Quoted in Gowland, Turner, and Wright, European Integration, 207. 22 Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 38. 23 Major, Autobiography, 651–52. 24 Wall, Stranger, 155. 25 Paul Marland and Jim Spicer, Hansard, 13 November 1996. 26 The Sun, March 1996. Reported in The Guardian, 26 January 2020. 27 The Sun, 28 October 1999. 28 Lamont, “Selsdon Group,” 99. 29 Lamont, “Selsdon Group,” 99. 30 Delors, Mémoires, 345. 31 The Times, 9 June 1993. Quoted in Holmes, Eurosceptical Reader, 120. 32 Speech at FCO, 29 November 2006. 33 Major, Autobiography, 582–83. 34 The Observer, 17 November 1996. 35 Holmes, Eurosceptical Reader, 368, 371–72. 36 Major, Autobiography, 273. 37 Reynolds, Island Stories, 104.

References Daddow, Oliver. Britain and Europe Since 1945. Historiographical Perspectives on Integration. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2004.

202  Maastricht, monetary union and enlargement Gowland, David, Turner, Arthur, and Wright, Alex. Britain and European Integration Since 1945: On the Sidelines. London: Routledge, 2009. Hannay, David. Britain’s Quest for a Role. A Diplomatic Memoir From Europe to the UN. London: I. B. Tauris, 2013. Holmes, Martin. “The Conservative Party and Europe.” In The Eurosceptical Reader, edited by Martin Holmes, 110–25. Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1996. Hurd, Douglas. Memoirs. London: Little, Brown, 2003. Lamont, Norman. “Selsdon Group Speech, 11 October 1994.” In The Eurosceptical Reader, edited by Martin Holmes, 97–109. Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1996. Major, John. The Autobiography. London: Harper Collins, 1999. Patten, Chris. “John Major.” In Prime Ministers on Europe. Half in Half Out, edited by Andrew Adonis, 151–70. London: Biteback, 2018. Pederson, Thomas. Germany, France and the Integration of Europe. A Realist Interpretation. London: Continuum, 1998. Renwick, Robin. A Journey With Margaret Thatcher. Foreign Policy Under the Iron Lady. London: Biteback, 2013. Reynolds, David. Island Stories. Britain and Its History in the Age of Brexit. London: William Collins, 2019. Sergeant, John. Maggie. Her Fatal Legacy. London: Macmillan, 2005. Wall, Stephen. A Stranger in Europe. Britain and the EU From Thatcher to Blair. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008. Young, Hugo. “The Last Europeans.” Channel Four documentary, 1995. Young, Hugo. This Blessed Plot. Britain and Europe From Churchill to Blair. London: Macmillan, 1998.

14 Last chance for leadership

Tony Blair’s election victory in 1997 raised the prospect of a renewed, and more convincing, attempt to place Britain in a leading position in Europe. For leaders on the Continent, after having had to do battle with Thatcher and Major for nearly two decades, the change of guard in London was seen as a positive sign for the future. On both sides, it seemed as though Britain’s relations with its neighbours could be reset in a more positive manner. With an unassailable majority in Parliament that was likely to last beyond the first term, a dominant position inside the Labour Party, something that was strikingly different from both John Major and previous Labour Prime Ministers, and high personal ratings in opinion polls, Blair was well placed to achieve this. His opposite number in France was Jacques Chirac who had been elected as President in 1995 and who was to remain in office throughout Blair’s time in Downing Street. A month after Blair’s election, France entered another period of ‘cohabitation’ in which the right-wing Chirac was forced to work with a Socialist majority in Parliament and a Socialist Government under Lionel Jospin. For once it appeared that the position of British Prime Minister was stronger than that of French President. Blair’s youthful style also contrasted with Chirac’s somewhat tarnished image. Blair’s international position was further reinforced by the state of the British economy which looked to be heading in a positive direction. Blair gave the impression of being a strong and dynamic leader, one prepared to embark on a series of major reforms. His ambitions extended beyond Britain to Europe. Revived ambitions Leadership was central to Tony Blair’s whole approach to politics, both at home and abroad. It stood out as one of his favourite buzzwords, one that was constantly used in all his speeches on foreign affairs. Britain was to be restored to its natural leadership role in Europe and beyond. Assuming this ‘mantle of leadership’1 was also central to Blair’s personal ambition. He was, quite simply, ‘obsessed by leadership.’2 This had already been one of his favourite themes in the run-up to the 1997 election. The promise of a fresh start for Britain’s DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-14

204  Last chance for leadership relations in Europe included the commitment made in the Labour manifesto to ‘lead a campaign for reform in Europe’ and to ‘give Britain the leadership in Europe which Britain and Europe need.’3 Christopher Meyer, the Ambassador to Washington (1997–2003), described the new Labour Government as ‘brandishing gleaming European pretensions’4 when it came into office. The style was upbeat and the message optimistic, especially when compared to John Major’s ‘policy of drift and disengagement.’5 There was a mood of optimism across the country that infected many of Britain’s European partners. Blair’s new rhetoric promised a better and brighter European future for Britain. Less attention was paid to the details of his plans. Over time, and on closer inspection, it became clear that much of the fanfare of 1997 was similar to the previous promises made by John Major on his arrival in office seven years before. Blair, however, seemed to be both better placed and more determined to fulfil them. Following his election, victory Blair used every available occasion to hammer home the message that Britain was looking to take on a leading role in Europe. Like his predecessors in Downing Street he turned to history to back up these claims. ‘For four centuries,’ he argued, ‘our destiny has been to help shape Europe.’6 On another occasion, he said: Century upon century, it has been the destiny of Britain to lead other nations. . . . That should not be a destiny that is part of our history. It should be part of our future. . . . We are a leader of nations, or we are nothing.7 Recent history was presented as a counterexample: the errors of post-war Governments were not to be repeated and there would be no more ‘opportunities missed in the name of illusions.’8 Instead, Britain would assume its rightful place in the ‘driving seat of Europe.’9 Blair’s first years in office suggested that he was on the way to fulfilling at least some of these promises. The Major Government’s opt-outs from the Social Chapter were reversed, membership of the Euro appeared to be a realistic possibility and signing up to the European Charter of Human Rights sent a positive message to the rest of Europe. Blair’s ‘New Britain’ seemed to be taking on a more European air. The continuing ideological battle For all their scepticism about Europe, both Thatcher and Major had, in their ways, attempted to lead Europe in a British direction. In terms of institutional reform and political integration, they had had little success either in promoting their own ideas or in holding back the other Europeans from theirs. They had nonetheless successfully imposed much of their social and economic agenda on the rest of Europe. Against this, the political estrangement between Britain and the rest of Europe, reflected in many personal rifts between Thatcher, Major and their European counterparts that had become the norm under Thatcher and

Last chance for leadership 205 which Major had never managed to reverse, had constantly undermined Britain’s position. On the central question of monetary union, their Governments had consistently acted as a brake on the various projects coming out of Europe. By the time Blair entered office the introduction of the Euro had become unstoppable. Tony Blair’s stronger domestic position and the positive reaction given to him in European capitals indicated that he might stand a better chance of achieving his aim to make Britain ‘a leader in ideas and in influence’10 in Europe. To this end, Britain was presented as a model for others to follow with New Labour’s domestic reforms being uploaded to the European level. Britain, Gordon Brown said, should ‘engage with Europe and make it better and – dare I say it – more British.’11 Europe had gone astray and needed to be rebuilt, or at least renovated, with Britain leading the way. The mood and style had changed under Blair and Brown, but in many ways their ideological battles in Europe were a continuation of those previously fought by Thatcher and Major. The agricultural, financial, commercial and federal battlefields remained the same. There was a crusade-like element in these ambitions. Blair set out not only to defend Britain’s position in Europe but also to win the battle over the future of Europe itself and in so doing to convert the other Europeans to New Labour thinking. ‘What matters is what works,’ he said. In the same way, what was good for Britain was also seen as being good for the whole of Europe. Such pure pragmatism was far removed from French thinking and left many people in France perplexed. The call to follow Britain’s example was understandably seen by some on the Continent as a further example of British lecturing. Gordon Brown’s tendency to compare the American economic model with what he regarded as the outdated and uncompetitive approach taken by many European countries did not always go down well. The ideological campaign led by Blair and Brown promoting free trade, free markets and deregulation was never going to be universally accepted across Europe, least of all in France. Moreover, the statements coming out of London were not simply vaunting Britain’s new-found confidence and relative economic success; they were also denigrating Britain’s European partners. Britain, Blair said, is ‘a country today that increasingly sets the standard,’ adding, ‘Not for us the malaise of France or the angst of Germany.’12 This message, which had been sent so frequently over the previous decades, won Britain few friends in Europe. It was, however, a card that could be usefully played at home. Brown, in particular, was always keen to portray himself as fighting for Britain in Europe, winning victories and fending off the threat of unwelcome EU regulation. Blair’s vision of an economically liberal Europe was based on a similar pattern to the one promoted by his two Conservative predecessors. Like them, he spent a good deal of time denouncing the protectionist measures still in place in many European countries and demanding that the existing barriers to trade inside the EU and with the rest of the world should be taken down. In words very close to those used by Thatcher in her Bruges speech, he called on Europe to ‘create the

206  Last chance for leadership conditions in which business can flourish’ with greater competition in air travel and telecoms and the removal of distorting government subsidies. Like his predecessors, he also turned his fire on the ‘scandals and waste of the CAP’ which, he said, was ‘bad for Britain and bad for Europe.’13 The French in particular failed to appreciate these British exhortations. Several voices in France riposted with their own criticisms of the economically liberal turn being encouraged by Blair. The outbreak of foot and mouth disease in 2001 was seized on as evidence of the pitfalls of Britain’s ultraliberal social and economic models. Such French resistance did not discourage Blair. Thatcher had taken her message to the heart of Europe in Bruges; Blair took this across the entire Continent. One major destination was Paris where he gave an important speech to the National Assembly in March 1998 in which he promoted his ‘third way’ approach to social and economic issues. This was as difficult for the French to define as it was for anyone else. Blair’s message went down well in some parts of France, but on closer analysis a majority there saw Blair’s arguments as a challenge that went against the grain of much French thinking. The ideas Blair presented in Paris showed an undeniable continuity with Thatcher. Europe, he said, needed ‘prudent (financial) discipline’ and a more limited role for government. It should be ‘less about regulation than about equipping people for economic change’ and place a ‘new emphasis on entrepreneurship.’14 Blair may not have talked of ‘rolling back the frontiers of the state’ but the underlying meaning was much the same. The same message was repeatedly given over the course of Blair’s premiership with calls on Brussels and Strasbourg to ‘send back some of the unnecessary regulation, peel back some of the bureaucracy’ and to create ‘a global, outward-looking, competitive Europe.’15 Another constant theme was the need to embrace globalisation, not resist it with outdated and ineffective countermeasures. Although much was made of Blair’s acceptance of the Social Chapter he placed limits on how far he was willing to go in developing social policy at a European level. As in many other areas, the style adopted by Blair’s European policies was distinct from that of Thatcher, the substance less so. A return to the agricultural battleground The key battlegrounds being fought over by the British and French were, as always, the CAP and the EU budget. The positions of the two sides remained as irreconcilable as ever. For Chirac, the defence of French agriculture was an obsession. Europe must ‘not lose sight of its agricultural roots’ and enlargement ‘must not be used as a pretext for a weakening of the CAP’16 he told the EU summit in March 1999. The British fired back with condemnation of the ‘EU’s Alice in Wonderland agricultural system.’17 According to the Government in London, the price paid by European consumers, the damage done to developing countries and the overall cost all called for root and branch reform of the CAP. The enlargement of the EU, it was predicted, ‘would helpfully undermine the whole

Last chance for leadership 207 nonsensical edifice’18 of this most iniquitous of all the EU’s policies. Blair was more than willing to take on the French over this issue but in doing so he was also challenging a policy that had been at the heart of the European integration project from its earliest years. If he were to succeed, this would indeed go a long way towards creating a genuinely new Europe. There was little chance of achieving this alone. Once again, the British set out in search of allies to fight alongside them in this crucial battle. Blair hoped that he would be able to find enough common ground over the CAP and the EU budget with Gerhard Schröder, the new German Chancellor (1998–2005), to put pressure on Chirac to give way. Schröder, however, came down on the side of Chirac, accepting an agreement in 2002 that fixed CAP funding for ten years. In the face of this Franco-German front, Blair had to give way but not before there had been some heated exchanges between the three leaders. The British felt they had been betrayed, even double-crossed, by Schröder while French resentment at the prolonged rebate still being granted to Britain under the terms of the 1984 Fontainebleau agreement was reignited. Chirac demanded that, given Britain’s improved economic situation, the rebate should be reconsidered. The French argument that Britain’s contribution to the EU budget was well below that of France, at 12.1% against 16.7%, was met by the British counterargument that in terms of net contributions the figures were reversed. The French came back again saying that this was because Britain imported so much non-EU food and had only to change this and become more communautaire. The bitter exchanges between Blair and Chirac at the EU summit in Brussels in October 2002 were widely reported in the press. Blair asked Chirac how he could ‘defend the CAP and then claim to be a supporter of aid to Africa?’, even accusing him of being ‘responsible for the starvation of the world’s poor.’ According to one account, those present ‘feared Chirac would grab hold of Blair when he yelled, “No one has ever spoken to me like that before.” ’19 Another witness described the two leaders as ‘lads looking for a brawl outside a pub on a Friday night. . . . The French President went eyeball to eyeball with (Blair), gesticulating almost prodding Blair in the chest.’20 This time around, the final agreement on the CAP was largely on French terms but the running battle over agriculture and the budget was carried over into each successive summit over the following years. The question of the British rebate was repeatedly put back on the table by the French, the question of the CAP, and the need for its reform, by the British. The need to integrate new members from the ex-Soviet bloc and the inevitable increase in the EU budget that this would necessitate raised the stakes even higher. There were no signs of the British and French coming closer to an agreement. The centenary of the Entente Cordiale in 2004 did not allow the two sides to patch up their differences. With both Blair and Chirac facing growing domestic problems, the old reflex of turning to a mutual blame game was an opportunity too easy not to be taken. This was encouraged by the press on both sides of the

208  Last chance for leadership Channel but with particular vigour by the British tabloids. France’s insistence on maintaining the embargo on British beef exports to the EU provided further ammunition for this particular feud. Although the initial conflict over BSE had been between Britain and the EU as a whole, British criticism often singled out France as the main opposition. What had started out as a disagreement between Britain and the EU Commission now became a more virulent bilateral AngloFrench confrontation. The ‘beef war’ did nothing to help Blair shift Britain’s relations with the rest of Europe onto more positive ground. At the same time, it exposed him to accusations from the Eurosceptics that he was failing to defend Britain against Europe. Headlines in British newspapers kept the issue on the boil with their constant martial references. The Conservative leader, William Hague, accused the Government of having had their ‘spines taken out,’ just like ‘dead cows.’21 The accusation that France was able to flaunt EU rulings without fear of punishment became a recurrent theme in the British press. Although legal proceedings against Paris were initiated for breaching EU rules, the French Government, acting on the advice of its Food Safety Agency, announced that the ban would remain in force. The French held onto their ban on British beef until 2006. No fines were ever paid. For the French Minister of Agriculture, Jean Glavany, the French Government was simply respecting the principle of precaution and health safety. Responsibility, he later wrote, should be placed at the door of the Thatcher years, with its ‘unbridled liberalism’ and attacks on the public sector, including the country’s veterinary services. BSE and foot and mouth were Britain’s fault, he wrote, but it was the ‘whole of Europe that paid the price.’22 Chirac chipped in with various derogatory remarks about British food. The ‘only thing the British have ever given European farming,’ he said, ‘is mad cow disease.’ Boris Johnson’s reply two days later was: ‘so what has France done for farming? Given us the evil CAP.’23 Constitutional affairs Blair adopted a more flexible approach to the question of sovereignty than the previous Governments’ ‘zero-sum’ thinking and he accepted that ceding some ground on this in order to maximise British influence was an acceptable and necessary price to pay. This flexibility was, however, kept within strict limits. Whenever he felt that there was a need, he was quite willing to adopt a Thatcherite posture over Europe. A few days before his first election victory, he declared in an article for The Sun: ‘I will have no truck with a European super-state. If there are moves to create that dragon I will slay it.’24 He vigorously dismissed the idea that the real problems facing Europe could be solved through a programme of institutional reform or by deeper integration as a delusion. He stoutly defended British opt-outs from important parts of the EU programme and his red lines were written with only slightly less clarity than John Major’s. Blair was never comfortable with the work being carried out by the Constitutional Convention

Last chance for leadership 209 that had been set up in 2001 to draft a new EU Treaty or with the federal ambitions of some of its members. When, in 2005, referendums in France and the Netherlands rejected the Convention’s proposals the British Government heaved a sigh of relief. Its previous promise to hold a similar referendum in Britain, which in all likelihood would have given an even higher ‘no’ vote, was now abandoned. Blair was relieved that the French and Dutch votes had got them ‘off the hook.’25 Jack Straw, the Foreign Secretary (2001–2007), was ‘exultant’ when he heard that the French had voted ‘no’ and was ‘full of schadenfreude for Chirac.’26 Chirac’s misfortune was Blair’s opportunity. The vote in France was a setback for French diplomacy and weakened France’s European standing and reputation. For Britain, and for Blair, it opened the way for a renewed campaign to take hold of the European reins. Chirac’s displeasure was obvious. According to one account published in the French press, he said: that conceited prat Blair . . . is only too happy with the No vote. You’d think he gets off on it. He wants to use the British presidency to grab the limelight. . . . I won’t put up with his English arrogance.27 After the French and Dutch ‘no’ votes, most of the Convention’s original proposals were adopted in the 2007 Treaty of Lisbon, although not as an entirely new and codified constitution but as a series of modifications to the existing texts. The final outcome of these reforms was seen quite differently in Paris and London. In parts of the French press, it was presented as a victory for a British Europe and a defeat for the French. For some French analysts, one of the explanations for the ‘no’ vote in the referendum was the feeling that the Treaty was the embodiment of the Blairite vision of Europe that went against the French social model. Other French analyses presented Blair, the young European champion, as the clear winner over the ageing Chirac. If Britain had really achieved such a considerable success in the drafting of the Constitutional Treaty, this was not given anything like the same positive slant in Britain where the European debate was taking on an increasingly Eurosceptic tone. How far Blair was committed to Europe and how successful he was in imposing his ideas remains open to debate. His own account stresses his long-standing support for the ‘European ideal.’28 In 2005, he described himself as a ‘passionate pro-European.’29 As in many other areas, his record on Europe was more ambiguous than this suggests. He had voted in favour of remaining in the EEC in the 1975 referendum but had supported withdrawal when he stood for election to Parliament in 1983. His record in office showed more clearly what he and New Labour opposed in Europe than what they were for. His successes in Europe were achieved mostly through his defensive actions. He blocked any moves to extend the powers of the EU into fiscal affairs or to harmonise corporation tax. He successfully insisted on limiting the institutional reforms of the EU and he held onto most of the opt-outs and red lines of the previous Governments.

210  Last chance for leadership His priority throughout was to keep the EU on the economically liberal course that had been set before he entered office. Among his greatest failures was his inability to reverse the growth of Euroscepticism in Britain. On this vital front of the European battle, he never showed himself able or willing to stand up to the Eurosceptic press or to place his European ambitions above his electoral needs. Nor did he ever spell out where he intended to lead Europe should he ever be able to take on that role. A possible entente: European security and defence The one area where Blair’s claims to have taken the lead in Europe appeared to be most justified was in foreign, defence and security policies, notably with the Anglo-French agreement signed at Saint-Malo in 1998. Britain’s military strength and its nuclear capability made it, along with France, an essential element in any European defence structure. At the same time, British policy had consistently given priority to its links to the United States and had never believed that an exclusively European-based security system was a viable option. The Major Government had accepted, as part of the Maastricht Treaty, some small moves towards the creation of a Common Foreign and Security Policy on condition that this was on an intergovernmental basis, outside the political structure of the EU, and that it did not challenge the supremacy of NATO. French moves towards the creation of a European defence capacity, possibly through the revival of the WEU, were resisted by Britain. The announcement by Mitterrand and Kohl in May 1992 that they intended to create a Eurocorps was seen in London as an unwelcome distraction of little military value. However, the reluctance of the United States to intervene in Kosovo in 1997–98 and the inability of the Europeans to act decisively in this crisis inclined the Blair Government to see the need for Europe to act independent of Washington in certain circumstances. This opened up clear opportunities for Blair to take on the leadership role that he had proclaimed. The Saint-Malo agreement was seen at the time as something of a diplomatic bombshell and as a sign that Britain was loosening its links with the United States and adopting a more European stance. It suggested that Britain and France had finally found common ground that would allow them to work more effectively together in an area where they shared many concerns and possibly to extend this new-found entente to others. Eurosceptics in Britain condemned it for weakening the Atlantic Alliance and, somewhat dramatically, as a first step towards a European super-state. Future developments showed that such fears were unfounded. The immediate result was to raise concerns in Washington that Europe might be starting to drift away from the Atlantic Alliance without ever convincing the other Europeans, including the French co-signatories, of Britain’s sincerity in wanting to create a truly European defence capability. As later events were to show, the Americans had few reasons to be concerned that the British

Last chance for leadership 211 had adopted a new European orientation. By taking the initiative on a question that was sure to arise sooner or later, Blair was able to ensure that European defence remained firmly within a trans-Atlantic framework. Chirac’s Gaullist heritage, on the other hand, convinced him of the need for Europe to be independent of the United States. For him, defence was an essential part of the whole project of European integration, part of the European identity that he wished to see emerge. While Saint-Malo might have been seen as a move towards a common European defence policy, it failed to overcome the divergence between the French Gaullist and British trans-Atlantic traditions. These fault lines were to emerge more clearly than ever during the Iraq crisis. EMU and the Euro The Euro was seen as a problem rather than as an opportunity for Blair and his leadership ambitions in Europe. The issue was for the most part avoided in the 1997 Labour election campaign. Opposition to the Euro was an issue that united the Conservatives and was backed by the most powerful elements in the British media. On this most controversial question, Blair was unwilling to take on the opposition, preferring instead in his first years in office to focus on more easily attainable successes. The question of the Euro, however, would not go away as the other Europeans pushed ahead with the project. Hopes that they still might give up on it, and thereby conveniently remove the whole issue from the European agenda, underscored much of the British Government’s thinking in 1997. Blair’s own opinion was unclear. He repeatedly stated that he wished to see Britain adopt the Euro, contradicting the line he had defended before the 1997 election when his article in The Sun had included the dramatic headline ‘Why I Love the Pound.’ At the same time, it was obvious that Britain’s ability to bring about radical change in the EU would be more easily achieved from inside the Eurozone than from outside and that refusing to join would seriously undermine any ambition to place Britain in a leading position. At the end of his first term in office, Blair still calculated that Britain was not ready, above all that the British people would not agree to give up the pound. Gordon Brown and the Treasury were also far from keen. The Conservatives’ campaign to ‘save the pound’ seemed to be winning the debate as opinion polls consistently showed a clear majority opposed to the Euro. Fighting on ground that was so favourable to the Conservatives would be risky for both his own personal popularity and that of New Labour. Blair wavered. The short-term solution was to defer the decision. Entry into the Euro was not ruled out, but would only be agreed to when the conditions were right. Five criteria that needed to be met before adopting the Euro were set out by the Treasury. These appeared, at first sight, to be economic but the decision was an entirely political one. The Treasury’s tests could have been answered in any way the Government wished. The decisive factor was the political will to take the leap into Europe in an act of European faith, a commodity that

212  Last chance for leadership was often lacking in Britain. The decision to definitively rule out entry into the Eurozone was never taken. Instead, the tests and the elaborate arguments behind them allowed the Government to kick the whole issue into the very long grass where it could be conveniently ignored. This (non)decision had major implications for Britain’s position in Europe. Remaining outside the Eurozone isolated Britain from a core EU. Blair acknowledged this when he described Britain’s problem as ‘trying to tell a club that you’re not happy with the way they are doing things without being willing to pay the membership fee.’30 How Britain was supposed to lead without placing itself truly at the heart of Europe was never answered. The launch of the Euro in 1999–2002 predictably increased Britain’s marginalisation. As one of the ‘outs,’ Britain was excluded by the ‘ins,’ led by France and Germany who were the decisive players not only in setting up and operating the Eurozone but also in a number of wider economic and monetary issues. Hopes that Britain might be included in any negotiations about monetary policy, while remaining outside the Eurozone, were rejected by those eleven countries, the ‘Euro-11,’ that were. The rejection of British entry into the Euro was a decisive moment. Germany, at the centre of EMU, was moving ahead of the others, France was not far behind but Britain was left standing on the sidelines. The Euro was an acid test of Blair’s European commitment to Europe, one that he failed. New allies and old adversaries On entering office in 1997, Tony Blair immediately went on something of a charm offensive in Europe, going out of his way to give a pro-European impression. His popularity and his youthful appeal had some initial success on the Continent. Where his predecessors had so obviously failed to establish a positive rapport with their continental partners, Blair used his charisma effectively. His relations with French President Chirac, however, remained strained. For Chirac, the arrival of this extremely ambitious British Prime Minister, twenty years his junior, on the European scene was always likely to be a cause of friction. The situation in Europe in 1997 offered several advantages for Blair. The FrancoGerman relationship, which had consistently operated as a major obstacle to British influence in Europe, was showing signs of strain. The demands from the Socialist Government in Paris that the EU adopt a policy of reflation were strongly resisted by the more financially prudent Germans. French concerns at the growing imbalance in the Franco-German relationship were matched by German irritation that Chirac was holding back deeper European integration and EU enlargement. The old British dream of breaking into, or breaking up, the Franco-German ménage à deux now seemed to be a more realistic prospect. The victory of the Social Democrats in the 1999 German elections offered the chance of establishing a solid Anglo-German axis. Schröder as a German version of Blair, adopting a similar ‘third way’ policy, was a tempting proposition,

Last chance for leadership  213 but this idea proved short-lived. Blair was no more successful in establishing a common front with Lionel Jospin. Efforts to convince other parties of the left in Europe to follow his ‘third way’ agenda met with limited success. Blair consistently found it easier to work with centre-right leaders on the Continent than with Labour’s more traditional socialist allies, preferring Sarkozy to Jospin and Merkel to Schröder. The decline in the Franco-German entente may have left a partial vacuum at the heart of Europe but it was not filled by a Franco-BritishGerman triumvirate. Whatever their differences, the French and German relationship survived. The feelings of unease in the Franco-German couple were never so serious as to lead either party to envisage a total separation. The longestablished practice of working together before discussing European issues with others, including the British, continued to be their preferred way of operating. Although Britain continued to be left out in the cold by the Franco-German couple, other potential partners in Europe were more welcoming. Widening rather than deepening the EU had long been a British objective, one that Blair pursued with renewed energy, including support for Turkey’s application. While Turkish membership was always a contentious issue and unlikely to be accepted in the near future, the applications from the ex-Soviet Republics were sure to be successful sooner or later. The expectation was that many of these new member states would follow Britain in opposing a federal Europe and that they would provide Britain with the basis for an alliance of pro-NATO, free-market countries against the rival Franco-German bloc. Blair rejected the possibility of applying temporary restrictions to the number of immigrants from the recent EU members when they joined in 2004 and 2007 in part, because he wanted to win their support, part of what Jack Straw described as the ‘key objective to rebalance the EU away from Paris and Berlin.’31 The reaction in Paris to the new members was less welcoming, fearing that enlargement would further reduce France’s influence. When several of the future members aligned themselves with the British and Americans over Iraq, Chirac’s response was to describe them as ‘poorly educated’ countries that would have done better to keep quiet rather than speak out against the leading members of the group they were looking to join. Chirac’s tactless personal diplomacy may have alienated many of the EU candidates, but Britain was never assured of winning them over either. Economically and commercially, it was inevitable that German influence would be far greater than Britain’s in these areas of Europe. Even had they been willing to support Britain, it was far from certain that the new EU members would have had sufficient weight to tip the balance in Britain’s favour. Blair was nonetheless able to notch up some successes on this front, and on several specific issues he built effective partnerships and alliances through a policy of ‘promiscuous bilateralism.’32 His objective was to ‘construct alliances that protected (Britain) against any potential French/German stitch-up.’33 The Irish were allies in opposing any EU moves towards tax harmonisation while Aznar in Spain and Berlusconi in Italy offered useful support in other areas. Blair relished

214  Last chance for leadership the competitive elements in all of these exchanges. At his first European summit in Amsterdam, he was encouraged by Alastair Campbell, his Director of Communications, to seize the opportunity offered by the bike ride arranged for the delegates. He told Blair to ‘grab a proper-looking bike, get out there, turn it into a race, and win,’ show everyone that he was ‘winning in Europe.’ Blair, Campbell records, ‘went for it, pedalling away madly while trying to look cool’ and, of course, came first. Campbell was even more delighted when the Italian Foreign Minister fell off his bike and Kohl refused to even get on one. There was further satisfaction for the famous spin doctor, and for his boss/patient, when Kohl said that he saw Blair as ‘his natural successor as the main leader in Europe.’ When, at one meeting, Yeltsin and Clinton went out of their way to talk to Blair, Campbell noted that Chirac looked ‘a bit unsettled . . . I don’t think he much liked having T[ony]B[lair] as the centre of attention among the big guys.’ Chirac, he recorded, ‘thinks we’re too cocky.’34 Such personal successes with other world leaders, the exception being Chirac, helped repair some of the previous damage done to Britain’s international relations but they were often superficial and not long-lasting. In Europe, the case-by-case approach to coalition building similarly brought some short-term benefits but never succeeded in establishing more permanent support for the British position that could challenge the FrancoGerman entente. Relations with the French For all of Blair’s professions of admiration for France, the Franco-British relationship lost none of its abrasiveness during his time in office. Every occasion was seized upon by the British and French to outdo each other. When in 2005 London was awarded the 2014 Olympic Games, having defeated the bids of Madrid and Paris, Blair saw it as ‘a stellar victory.’ His delight, completed by a sense of schadenfreude towards the unfortunate Chirac, comes across clearly in his memoirs: He ‘felt genuinely sorry’ for the unlucky loser, Blair wrote. Chirac had lost the referendum on the EU treaty, a terrible blow and I am sure a deeply felt, personal rebuff from his own people. Now this. And because I had been so high-profile in spearheading our bid and he had led his, it would be doubly humiliating. I would have felt gutted in his place, really low – beyond low, actually.35 Blair’s attempt, if that was what it was, to sound magnanimous in victory does not ring true. If France had lost this particular race, Chirac could always point to France’s superiority in the culinary stakes. When Blair invited him to a pub dinner in 2000, the members of the French delegation barely concealed their disdain for British food. Chirac himself was reported as having said about British

Last chance for leadership 215 food ‘At first you think it’s crap and then you regret that it’s not,’ and on another occasion, ‘One cannot trust people who have such bad food.’36 Blair’s discourse on Europe went beyond the hectoring tone he sometimes employed and his innate sense of competition, at times taking on a belligerent tone. The other Europeans were seen as allies or adversaries. The former could be lined up behind the British in their campaign for the right sort of Europe or alongside Britain and the United States in fights elsewhere. Many Europeans, above all the French, were consistently placed in the second category, seen as rivals to be challenged, out-manoeuvred, and ultimately defeated. Given this outlook on European affairs, it was inevitable that Blair’s leadership ambitions should bring him up against Chirac who continued to see France as the natural occupant of the position. Chirac’s political career before becoming President in 1995 had not suggested any enthusiasm for Europe. In his 1978 ‘Appel de Cochin,’ he had taken a violently anti-European line. As President he adopted a more pragmatic approach. He also attempted to hold onto much of the Gaullist ideology in foreign policy, although he lacked both the stature and the strength of his eminent predecessor. France’s hold on the leading position in Europe was increasingly precarious. The defeat of the 2005 referendum was a serious blow both to Chirac personally and to French claims that it was still in the European driving seat. Blair’s ‘third way’ crusade in Europe also ensured the continuation of the Anglo-French ideological battle for Europe that had been going on for half a century. Given Chirac’s repeated statements opposing economic liberalism, and his support for an interventionist and at times protectionist approach, he and Blair could never have been ideological soul mates. Across almost all areas of the European debate, Britain and France were more often than not at loggerheads. Over the EU budget, Britain’s rebate, the CAP, the Euro and other important issues, the two sides confronted each other along the same old battle lines. Mutual recrimination and fiery, often deeply personal, attacks were exchanged between the two countries’ leaders. The British press poured further fuel onto this fire. The two countries remained set in their conflictual ways, each regarding the other as a rival, a challenge, more as a threat to their own national interests than as a partner in a common European cause. Trans-Atlantic and European perspectives Both Blair and Chirac were, in their own ways, the heirs to their great predecessors, Churchill and de Gaulle. Like them, this new Franco-British couple was at odds over how Europe should relate to the United States. Blair’s greater engagement with Europe and his willingness to take on a leading role in the promotion of economic reform and in building a distinct role for Europe in the defence field did not involve any weakening of Britain’s close ties with the United States. His international priorities were much the same as those of all previous British

216  Last chance for leadership Governments going back to the Second World War. Like Churchill, he saw the world from a very Anglo-centric perspective with Britain occupying a pivotal position between Europe, the United States and the wider world and he continued to believe that Britain could play a role in all these spheres without having to choose one over the others. In Blair’s world-view, playing a leading role in Europe in no way undermined Britain’s ‘special relationship’ with Washington. Britain was the ‘junction’ or the ‘bridge’37 between them. Europe and the United States were seen as part of a whole in a mutually reinforcing relationship that resembled a super-charged version of the interdependence promoted by Kennedy and Macmillan in the early 1960s. In the same way, Blair presented Britain’s role in Europe and with the United States as strengthening each other. He attempted another precarious balancing act in his simultaneous promotion of both globalisation and Europeanisation. In advocating this role as a trans-Atlantic bridge, Blair was taking a very Churchillian path. In another way, although he would have been less willing to accept the analogy, he was also adopting a Gaullist position. Like de Gaulle’s earlier vision of Europe as a lever that would allow France to assume a worldwide role, Blair argued that ‘the only way to maintain a global role today is through Europe.’38 Simultaneously supporting the European and American dimensions of British foreign policy had always been a difficult exercise. Britain’s European plans had been blocked in the 1950s and 1960s in large part due to the French conviction that the ‘Anglo-Saxons’’ ‘special relationship’ was proof that Britain was not an acceptable member of the European club. The record of the Labour Governments in the 1970s and then of Thatcher and Major had convinced many in France of the enduring validity of these assessments. Initially, Blair was confident that he could succeed in balancing Britain’s two key relationships where British leaders before him had failed. Several international developments undermined these hopes and finally brought them crashing down. The United States was no longer the supporter of European integration that it had been in the 1950s. American neoconservatives, who were on the ascendant in Washington, had little sympathy for Europe and Europeans. Many of them, adopting an overtly ‘divide and rule’ approach, now encouraged the rifts between what Donald Rumsfeld saw as old Europe and new Europe. In France, although Mitterrand and Chirac had moderated de Gaulle’s policies towards the Atlantic Alliance, the suspicions of American motives and resentment at their hegemony had not disappeared. The belief that Europe should have a distinct identity and independence, that it should, in Gaullist terms, be a ‘European Europe,’ contrasted starkly with Blair’s vision. Seen from France, Blair’s Europeanism and his claims to leadership were unconvincing. New Labour’s obvious inclination to look more to the United States than to Europe for inspiration reinforced these views. In many ways, Blair was looking less to reconcile Europeanisation and globalisation than to globalise Europe, dissolving the EU in a wider global structure in line with the policies promoted, less successfully, by earlier generations of British leaders.

Last chance for leadership 217 For so long as the international scene was not too rocky the inconsistencies in Blair’s thinking could be avoided. After the events of 11 September 2001, this became impossible. Iraq and European leadership The conflict that had been simmering for some time between Blair and Chirac broke out into the open over Iraq in 2002. France’s very public opposition to the United States’ decision to invade was denounced in London as playing into the hands of Saddam Hussein. Chirac, who liked to point out that, unlike Blair, he had fought in a war himself, condemned his willingness to take Britain, and other countries, into an unnecessary conflict. The bitter exchanges between Britain and France, and between Blair and Chirac, reached new depths. The competition between them to mobilise the support of allies ended with Europe split down the middle, one side around the Franco-German anti-war coalition and on the other the British-led ‘coalition of the willing.’ Iraq unleashed a wave of anti-French feelings across the British media with The Sun attacking what it described as the ‘Axis of Weasel.’ Others picked up on the insults coming out of the United States with the French as ‘cheese-eating surrender monkeys.’ Blair deliberately played the anti-French card in an effort to prop up his support in Westminster and across the country, falsely accusing Chirac of having threatened to veto any UN Security Council resolution. Reports put out by Downing Street knowingly mistranslated Chirac’s actual words. The damage done to Britain’s relations with its two key European partners took many months to repair. Robin Cook, Blair’s Foreign Secretary up to 2001, was highly critical. Iraq, he said, had ‘demolished’ Blair’s early achievements in Europe, taking it ‘back to the familiar geometry of a Franco-German axis with Britain the odd one out.’ Britain’s ‘folly’ over Iraq had ‘forced Germany and France into a common alliance with ourselves as their opponent.’39 Unlike Cook and other anti-war critics, Blair’s priority in 2003 was to keep as close as possible to Washington, no matter what the cost in Europe. His wider global concerns trumped his ambitions closer to home. Chirac meanwhile returned to the classic Gaullist theme of Britain’s overly close ties to the United States. Blair, he wrote, after having tried to ‘free himself from the control of Washington . . . had not been long in bowing down to it.’40 Iraq was the rock on which Blair’s ambition to simultaneously achieve the leadership of Europe and maintain Britain’s supposedly privileged position in Washington foundered. Britain was marginalised on both sides: isolated from the heart of Europe, outside the Eurozone and the centre of European policy-making and unable to exercise any significant influence on American policy. The trans-Atlantic bridge that Blair had looked to, if it had ever existed, had collapsed. The accusation was made, as it had been against previous British Prime Ministers, that there was a fundamental contradiction in Blair’s approach, that his foreign policy was weakened by his characteristically ambiguous thinking and

218  Last chance for leadership refusal to face up to difficult choices, choosing instead to blur these behind a screen of seemingly coherent arguments which, on closer analysis, were shown to be inconsistent. As Christopher Meyer wrote, ‘Not for the first time or the last, Britain found itself in the uncomfortable position of trying to straddle two positions.’ For all Blair’s undoubted political skills, how could even he ‘ride the American and the European horses at the same time, without falling between two saddles?’41 Blair’s ambition to lead Europe was undone by his unwavering support for the United States over Iraq. The damage to Blair’s personal relations was also considerable. Alienating Chirac and Schröder, even publicly vilifying the former, while wooing Aznar and Berlusconi did nothing to strengthen his hand in Europe. Rather than finding a European lever that would allow Britain to play a leading role in the world, Blair’s pro-American priorities weighed down his hopes for Britain in Europe. Conclusion By the time Blair left office in 1997, the early hopes of achieving a more central role in Europe had been, at best, only partially fulfilled. Blair’s own judgement, given in his final days in office, sounded similar to the balance sheet Thatcher had drawn up at the end of her decade in office in 1990. Like her, Blair proclaimed that, during his premiership, Britain had ‘been in a leadership position in Europe.’42 This, however, could not disguise the evident signs of disillusion that were appearing both in Britain and on the Continent. The mood in France was hardly more positive. The image of the EU as a French or Franco-Germanled bloc, working against British interests, was still widely held in Britain during Blair’s premiership. This was not, however, a view shared by many people in France. The dominant feeling there was rather one of waning confidence in France’s capacity to direct or influence events. Belief in France’s natural role as the leader of Europe gave way to growing fears that the EU was inexorably evolving in unwelcome ways as it adopted an ‘Anglo-Saxon’ social and economic model. Chirac’s inability to impose his personal leadership in Europe and his weakened domestic position added to these declinist sentiments. German strength, which had long been a fear, was now an unavoidable reality. Germany had long since ceased to accept the subordinate status in the Franco-German relationship that de Gaulle had insisted on. As EU membership grew to twentyseven in 2007, French influence, like that of all other countries, even the largest, was necessarily diluted. The arrival of the countries of Central and Eastern Europe that were likely to support the market reforms favoured by the British and the Atlantic Alliance, and coming from a traditional German sphere of economic influence, further undermined the French position. Maintaining France’s dirigiste and protectionist traditions became problematic in the increasingly free trade and free market version of Europe that now existed. In the face of these threats, Chirac’s reaction was defensive, trying to hold onto as much of the CAP

Last chance for leadership 219 as possible and resisting the economic reforms being encouraged by the British, but no longer able to offer a positive vision for the future direction of Europe under French leadership. Blair’s greatest success was to maintain the free market direction set for Europe in the 1980s and 1990s. The institutional reforms embodied in the Constitutional Treaty signed in Lisbon in 2007, shortly after Blair left office, were kept within limits and the prospect of a truly federal European super-state kept off the European agenda for the foreseeable future. Reform of the CAP and the budget had been only partially achieved but Blair could still regard these as areas of relative success. Most French analyses agreed that British influence in Europe was all too great. While British Eurosceptics regarded the Lisbon Treaty as another step too far, in France it was condemned by many as being far too British in its conception. Blair’s European balance sheet also included some notable failures. The first, concerning the Euro, was self-inflicted. The decision not to enter the Eurozone removed any threat that Britain might have posed to the continued Franco-German leadership of Europe. The second was his inability to stem the growing tide of anti-European feelings in Britain. From the outset, Blair was certainly facing an uphill battle here. For all his undoubted successes in imposing a British-inspired agenda on the EU in many areas, there was never any likelihood that this would satisfy Blair’s critics at home. As he later wrote, the anti-European elements in the British media would have continued to attack him for betraying Britain in Europe even if ‘he had led Jacques Chirac in chains through the streets of London.’43 In fact, his efforts to turn public opinion in a more pro-European direction had only been timidly undertaken. Blair’s failure to win over public opinion in Britain in support of his European ambitions and his unwillingness to confront the Europhobic press were perhaps his greatest failures. They undoubtedly weakened British influence in Europe. The total absence of a cross-party consensus on Europe, which had been a serious handicap on successive British Governments since the 1960s, did not change after 1997. This, and the lack of any deeply held sense of European identity across the country, meant that any British ambitions to lead Europe were hamstrung. However understandable Blair’s decision may have been to shy away from this domestic European battle, the long-term consequences for Britain’s relations with the EU were profound. Notes

1 Speech at the Labour Party Conference, 2 October 2001 2 Deighton, “Radical or Retrograde,” 15. 3 Labour Party Manifesto, 1997. 4 Meyer, DC Confidential, 31. 5 Labour Party Manifesto, 1997. 6 Speech at the Lord Mayor’s Banquet, 10 November 1997. 7 Quoted in Deighton, “Radical or Retrograde,” 15.

220  Last chance for leadership 8 Speech at the University of Birmingham, 23 November 1991. 9 Cook speech to the TUC, October 1997. 10 Speech, Lord Mayor of London’s Banquet, 22 November 1999. 11 Speech, 20 May 1997. Quoted in Daddow, New Labour, 243. 12 The Guardian, 27 September 2005. 13 Speech, 5 April 1995. Quoted in Blair, New Britain, 286. 14 Speech to the French National Assembly, 24 March 1998. 15 Speech to the European Parliament, 23 June 2005. 16 Quoted in Bossuat, Faire l’Europe, 201. 17 Donoughue, Kitchen, 406. 18 Donoughue, Kitchen, 398. 19 Seldon, Blair Unbound, 126. 20 Kampfner, Blair’s Wars, 245. 21 Hansard, 27 October 1999. 22 Glavany, Politique folle, 143–44. 23 Daily Telegraph, 5, 7 July 2005. 24 The Sun, 22 April 1997. 25 Blair, Journey, 531. 26 Seldon, Blair Unbound, 353. 27 Le Canard Enchainé, 15 June 2005. Quoted in Tombs and Tombs, Sweet Enemy, 695. 28 Blair, Journey, 533. 29 Le Monde, 6 June 2005. 30 Quoted in Gowland, Turner, and Wright, European Integration, 169. 31 Straw, Memoirs, 423. 32 Smith, “Missed Opportunity,” 703–21. 33 Blair, Journey, 501. 34 Campbell and Stott, Blair Years, 211–12 and 208, 250. 35 Blair, Journey, 561. 36 Daily Telegraph, 4 July 2005 37 Blair, New Britain, 67. Speech to the FCO. 7 January 2003. 38 Blair, New Britain, 280, 283. 39 Cook, Point of Departure, 131–33. 40 Quoted in Adonis, Leader, 134. 41 Meyer, DC Confidential, 100, 174. 42 Hansard, 25 June 2007. 43 Blair, Journey, 542.

References Adonis, Andrew. It’s the Leader Stupid. Changemakers in Modern Politics. London: Amazon, 2021. Blair, Tony. New Britain. My Vision of a Young Country. London: Fourth Estate, 1996. Blair, Tony. A Journey. London: Hutchinson, 2010. Bossuat, Gérard. Faire l’Europe sans défaire la France: 60 ans de politique d’unité européenne des gouvernements et des Présidents de la République française, 1943–2003. Brussels: Peter Lang, 2005. Campbell, Alastair, and Stott, Richard, eds. The Blair Years. Extracts From the Alastair Campbell Diaries. London: Hutchinson, 2007. Cook, Robin. The Point of Departure. Diaries From the Front Bench. London: Pocket Books, 2004.

Last chance for leadership 221 Daddow, Oliver. New Labour and the European Union. Blair and Brown’s Logic of History. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2011. Deighton, Anne. “The Foreign Policy of British Prime Minister Tony Blair. Radical or Retrograde?” Centre for British Studies, Humboldt University, Berlin, 11th July 2005. Donoughue, Bernard. The Heat of the Kitchen. An Autobiography. London: Politico’s, 2004. Glavany, Jean. Politique folle. Paris: Grasset, 2001. Gowland, David, Turner, Arthur, and Wright, Alex. Britain and European Integration Since 1945: On the Sidelines. London: Routledge, 2009. Kampfner, John. Blair’s Wars. London: Free Press, 2003. Meyer, Christopher. DC Confidential. London: Orion, 2005. Seldon, Anthony. Blair Unbound. London: Simon and Schuster, 2007. Smith, Julie. “A Missed Opportunity? New Labour’s European Policy, 1997–2005.” International Affairs, 81, No. 4 (July 2005): 703–21. Straw, Jack. Last Man Standing. Memoirs of a Political Survivor. London: Macmillan, 2012. Tombs, Robert, and Tombs, Isabelle. That Sweet Enemy. The French and the British From the Sun King to the Present. London: Heinemann, 2006.

15 European laggards and leaders

Histories of Europe since 1945 have often identified a thread running directly from the Schuman plan, via the Treaty of Rome to today’s EU. If the thread was temporarily broken with the failure of the EDC this is passed over. Other European institutions such as the WEU, the Council of Europe, Euratom, EFTA or the OEEC, or rival European projects which fell by the wayside such as Britain’s Free Trade Area, are usually accorded only a minor role. The dominant story is one of progress towards a united Europe, with France playing the lead, followed by, and then alongside, Germany. Britain in this scenario is seen as holding back the more enthusiastic continental Europeans. It may even be seen as the villain of the piece trying to derail or sabotage the whole movement. There were always many in Britain happy to accept this role. British Governments chose to remain detached from European integration in the 1950s, then opposed and often obstructed the Europe that was built up over the following decades, becoming the ‘awkward partner’ when it entered the EEC in 1973. By contrast, the French are usually portrayed in a more positive and pro-European light, as promoters of integration at the outset and thereafter as one of the main European locomotives taking Europe forward. France was certainly a key player in Europe and had a considerable influence over the direction it took. French support for European integration was not, however, an inevitable choice. Nor was it ever unanimously supported. Britain also played an important part, despite its frequent dissatisfaction with the route that Europe ended up taking. To simply present Britain as the negative European laggard ignores the important, and positive, part it played in European construction. The way this turned out may not have satisfied Britain but its input into the planning along the way was nonetheless considerable. Like the French, the British were, in their different ways, also seeking to lead Europe, but in a very different direction. Neither these British and French trajectories nor the evolution of Europe itself was inevitable. Britain was not pre-destined to reach the conclusion, as it did in 2016, that its best option was to place itself outside the main European economic and political structures. This choice, when it came, was Britain’s alone and no other European Government expressed anything other than regret at this DOI: 10.4324/9781003241645-15

European laggards and leaders  223 decision, even if there were some voices, notably in France, arguing that the EU would be better off without them. Nor should the story of Europe be seen only as a series of British failures that was always doomed to end in some form of divorce. There were various options and routes open to Europe in the post-war decades. The ECSC/EEC/EU was only one of them. The ECSC was the first major step on the path to European integration but was limited in scope and did not immediately replace the other existing European organisations such as the OEEC and the Council of Europe. It was not initially seen as a great success, either by the supporters or by the opponents of a federal Europe. The failure of the EDC in 1954 suggested that the federal model might well be abandoned. The opportunity for an alternative intergovernmental and exclusively commercial bloc seemed to be there for the taking. The Treaty of Rome, which relaunched the federalists’ hopes, was another key moment but it too contained some ambiguous features that left the future direction of Europe uncertain. Various other ideas, and some more or less well-defined blueprints, were still on the table, including Britain’s Free Trade Area and de Gaulle’s Fouchet plan. The battle over which one to adopt and which path to take was fought out over the course of the following decades. Britain and France: a never-ending story After Brexit, it was difficult to conceive of Britain as ever having had the ambition to be the leader of Europe yet this was central to British policy for many years. Having initially sought to prevent the Six from taking Europe in a direction of which it disapproved, Britain then turned its strategy towards entering the EEC and redirecting it from within. In the 1980s and 1990s, even as Eurosceptic sentiments grew in Britain, the aim was still to lead Europe and impose a British model on it. Inevitably this came up against France which had the same aim to lead Europe but with its own quite different ideas as to its future. The legacy of their long history of conflict and rivalry added to the tensions between them. Neither side was willing to press the reset button. Instead, from de Gaulle to Chirac and Churchill to Blair each new generation of British and French leaders ended up replaying previous Anglo-French conflicts. Presenting the history of European integration in terms of victories and defeats or as a diplomatic and ideological battle between competing nations acting as ‘Hobbesian gladiators’1 is paradoxical for what was supposed to be a collaborative project to create a European community. Other forms of analysis focusing on non-state actors and which adopt a less confrontational interpretation are undoubtedly necessary in order to get a more complete picture. Yet it was in precisely this way that British and French leaders approached Europe after 1945. Concerns for international standing and prestige were often uppermost in their minds. This inevitably led to a deep sense of Anglo-French competition and rivalry. Both countries were clinging to the illusions of national grandeur. There

224  European laggards and leaders was, however, more at stake than international status. The debate on the future of Europe, its institutions and its social and economic models, was of enormous importance to all those involved. Given their differing outlooks on Europe it was unavoidable that British and French leaders should think of themselves as adversaries. David Hannay saw a need ‘to be more selective about taking up the cudgels’2 in Europe. Like much of the diplomatic advice given over the years this particular piece was not followed. Instead British politicians seemed only too ready to pick a fight in Europe, unable to view Britain’s relations with the rest of Europe in anything other than conflictual terms. As Hugo Young wrote, Europe was ‘meant to be a team, an alliance, a jousting but ultimately fraternal partnership. For a body created to prevent war, battle was exquisitely inappropriate as the driving metaphor one of its members brought to the table.’3 Other smaller European countries were quicker to accept their diminished international roles and the need to work collectively. British and French leaders found it harder to see their countries slide down the international rankings. This attitude was deeply ingrained in both countries, among politicians, diplomats and the general public. Both countries attempted to hold on to a view of the world in which they occupied a central position. The idea that there are ‘only two kinds of European nations: small nations and. . . countries that have not yet realised they are small nations’4 was simply not accepted in London and Paris. While British and French leaders carried on their competition, Europe was evolving in ways that made the leadership battle largely irrelevant. As the EU grew in size and in scope, the idea of a single member state, no matter how big, assuming the leading position became untenable. Even the Franco-German ‘couple’ was no longer able to play the leading role as it had done up until the 1970s. Instead power was diffused and dispersed across the different European institutions. Europe, in many ways, became ‘leaderless.’5 At the same time, Britain and France ceased to be regarded, either by each other or by anyone else, as models to be emulated The relations between Britain and France after 1945 followed a well-set pattern. Mistrust and rivalry, at times outright mutual hostility, generally prevailed. Personal relations between the two leaderships were rarely cordial. The comparisons with the Anglo-American relations between Prime Ministers and Presidents and with Franco-German relations between Presidents and Chancellors were striking. Other allies were sought out and some were found but these were lightweights compared to the European big beasts and global superpowers. Anglo-French relations often seemed to be stuck in a historical rut. References to past conflicts and stereotypical mutual images were omnipresent in their exchanges. More significantly, the two countries’ European policies were based on different ideological outlooks. The issues facing them were the same, and in some ways the objectives they were seeking were comparable, but their perspectives diverged. There were few feelings of empathy or mutual understanding. For the British, the CAP was seen as an aberration; for the French, it was

European laggards and leaders 225 something to be defended tooth and nail, an essential prop to a key French industry and a vital defence of the French rural world. Most people in Britain showed far less willingness to support farming or the rural community. In France, the agricultural sector constituted a powerful lobby, even if its relative importance was declining; in Britain priority was given to the price of food and the cost of living. In Britain the debate on the CAP focused on its negative environmental impact, the harm it did to Europe’s wider trading interests and to the developing world. Such considerations were hardly heard in France. Where the French pointed to the role of the CAP in helping to maintain the fabric of rural societies by protecting small farmers, the British pointed to its economic inefficiency and, above all, to its enormous cost. Britain’s position on the edge of the European continent was often used to explain its difficult relations with the other Europeans. De Gaulle sought to justify his vetoes by explicitly referring to this. No matter how outdated such geopolitical reasoning was, it continued to condition much of British and French thinking. In numerous respects, Britain became increasingly European after 1945 but British feelings towards Europe remained ambiguous. Being left outside the European mainstream, and with restricted access to its markets, was a constant concern. Yet many people in Britain never felt comfortable as members of the EEC/EU and were constantly tempted to loosen their involvement with it or to leave altogether. As a result, Britain placed itself half inside and half outside Europe. On the one hand, Britain was afraid of being left behind as the other Europeans headed off towards some uncertain, but probably unwelcome, destination. On the other hand, there was a reluctance to join the collective enterprise. Other relations beyond Europe continued to distract much of Britain’s attention. Seen from the Continent, Britain’s presence in the European institutions might be welcomed or opposed but it was never seen as a requirement for success. Europe without France, on the other hand, could never have been envisaged. Britain felt uncomfortable in its European skin and while it continued to seek the leadership of Europe it did so without ever fully committing itself to the European project. Such existential questions about the country’s European identity were less frequently asked in France. Anti-EU sentiment was at times strong but France was unquestionably part of Europe and saw itself as such. Indeed, Europe was sometimes seen as an extension of France. De Gaulle, some British observers claimed, spoke of Europe but meant France just as he saw himself as the incarnation of the whole French nation. Most people in France regarded their country’s leadership of Europe as natural. Successive French Presidents assumed the European mantle with ease. Coalition building What often tipped the European balance in favour of either Britain or France was the ability to bring other players onside, cultivating friendships (the word is

226  European laggards and leaders perhaps misplaced in international relations although national sympathies, often long-established, no doubt played a part), and forming alliances. This had been true in past Franco-British confrontations. Wellington’s victory over Napoleon had, after all, not been an exclusively British effort. His army included large numbers of Dutch soldiers and it was ultimately the role of the Prussians that led to victory. Immediately after 1945, it was Britain that seemed best placed to set itself up as the nucleus around which other European countries would congregate. Britain’s refusal to take this beyond certain very strict limits allowed the French, with the Schuman plan, to make the first decisive move. The six countries that signed up to the ECSC remained Europe’s inner core as the EEC/ EU expanded. Britain, having excluded itself, never managed to break into this innermost group, remaining, to various degrees, on the margins. The decisive European alliance was between France and Germany who, together, positioned themselves at the centre of Europe and as its engine house. Their combined strength enabled them to set out the road map along which Europe would travel and then lead the way. British leaders often complained about the exclusive nature of this relationship but their own actions did much to push them closer together. Indeed, Churchill, in his famous 1946 speech in Zurich, had explicitly called on the French and Germans to come together. Britain’s later efforts to break into the Franco-German ‘couple’ came to nothing. Without a better relationship with either France or Germany, or with both of them, any British claims to be leading Europe were always based on weak ground. France was far more adept than Britain in managing its relationship with Germany and whatever their ups and downs the two countries remained united. On occasions, Britain was able to mobilise support from its traditional Dutch and Belgian allies and from the so-called ‘Friendly Five’ as a whole. The more recent EEC/EU member states were also targeted in this way. There were some European leaders, like Spaak, who disagreed with many of the ideas being promoted by Britain but who remained keen to see Britain take a leading part in Europe. There were other Europeans who shared Britain’s ideological vision of Europe as a free market closely allied to the United States and integrated into a global economic system. Despite this Britain often found itself isolated among the Europeans or with only minimal backing. Alliances were formed in an ad hoc fashion but without ever establishing firm friendships or convincing the other Europeans as a whole that they could have faith in them. The failure to garner sufficient support resulted in large part from the fact that British views diverged from those of a majority on the Continent. Britain was often promoting an idea of Europe that most of the others simply did not want. Potential grounds for agreement, even with the arch-rivals France and Germany, existed but they were not successfully exploited. Instead the British frequently ended up alienating their European neighbours. There were times when British leaders seemed to delight in taking up a heroic Saint George-like stand in defiance of the united forces facing them on the Continent.

European laggards and leaders 227 Britain’s insistence on maintaining its ‘special relationship’ with the United States was always considered by French Gaullists as one of the main obstacles to Britain playing a leading role, perhaps any role at all, in Europe and as continuing proof of Britain’s essentially non-European character. The British, on the other hand, saw no incompatibility between its role in Europe and its close relations with Washington, or with the Commonwealth. The approach set out by Churchill in his ‘three circles’ speech in 1947 continued to be the starting point for British foreign policy throughout the following decades. While successive British Governments saw this as a strength, it led others, notably in France, to accuse Britain of ‘running two hares at the same time.’6 De Gaulle complained that Britain wanted ‘to obtain the benefits of belonging to Europe and at the same time hold onto the advantages of its non-membership of Europe thanks to its Imperial system and its cultural Anglo-Saxon fraternity.’7 The same reproach was made during the Brexit negotiations when the British were reproached for wanting to have their cake and eat it. On neither occasion were the British able to come up with a convincing or adequate response to these accusations. British or French leadership The ambition to lead Europe was common to both the British and French. In Britain’s case, it was not always clear where its leadership aimed to take Europe. British policy-makers were all too often slow to react, for the most part seeking to counter the proposals being made elsewhere rather than putting forward their own plans. Those initiatives that were made were often too timid and came too late to convince the other Europeans. Britain was muddling through. In the meantime, Europe was constantly evolving, most usually in a direction that was taking it further away from where Britain wanted it to be. Proclamations of the need for British leadership of Europe were made but without presenting a coherent project. Most British proposals were, in essence, calling for a halt to existing plans or, at best, for the creation of looser and less ambitious structures. British plans failed to win over sufficient support on the Continent. It was not only the other Europeans that British Governments failed to convince. British public opinion towards Europe and European integration remained uncertain. Above all, it was deeply divided. This inability to establish a national consensus as a solid base from which to fight their cause in Europe held back Britain’s leadership ambitions. In general, the British leaders had little faith in their ability to achieve a successful outcome in Europe. The French had a more positive assessment of their place in Europe and greater confidence in their leadership credentials. French leaders never had to face an aggressive Eurosceptic press in the same way as their British counterparts. From Lord Beaverbrook’s Daily Express in the post-war years to Rupert Murdoch’s Sun, the British press consistently made life difficult for British Governments while encouraging the British public’s underlying suspicion of all things European, all the more so

228  European laggards and leaders whenever this Europeanism was presented with a French accent. By condemning any move towards Europe as a surrender or a defeat at the hands of the other Europeans, the Eurosceptic press tied the hands of successive British leaders. Europe was a political minefield for British politicians. Many of them understandably chose to tread very carefully when they ventured onto the Continent; others preferred to avoid the risks altogether by staying at home as much as possible. The decisive weakness in Britain’s policy towards Europe, and in its ambitions to take a leading role there, as the 2016 referendum showed, was the failure to create a belief in the value of Europe for Britain. Winners and losers Britain and France diverged not only in their plans for the future of Europe but also, looking back, in how they evaluated their achievements and failures in Europe. The CAP was undoubtedly a French success. Britain could point to the way in which it had uploaded many aspects of its preferred social and economic models to the rest of Europe from the 1980s onwards. However, these positive aspects of their records in Europe were not always given prominence in either country. By the end of the 1990s, the tendency in Britain and France was to bemoan their European reverses rather than praise their achievements. Both were quick to highlight their own failures in Europe and equally quick to identify their rival’s successes. Indeed, one was often seen as the direct consequence of the other. For the British, the CAP exemplified all that was wrong with Europe. They condemned it for going too far and costing too much while the French, from the 1990s onwards, increasingly felt that the CAP was failing, because it no longer went far enough and had left many French farmers to their free-market fate. In the same way, Europe was criticised in Britain for its insufficiently liberal economic policies and for holding onto its archaic protectionist ideas and at the same time condemned in France for following far too closely the prescriptions laid down by Thatcher and Blair. Much of this came down to the public presentation of these issues and how they were perceived in the two countries. Instead of complaining about Europe and announcing that they had been defeated by the Franco-German coalition, the British could have identified the SEA as a significant victory, particularly over the French. In France, the CAP cup could have been seen as half full rather than half empty, even after the reforms introduced in later years. The French have been portrayed as ‘reasonable Europeans so long as the unity of Europe is in fundamental agreement with French aspirations.’8 The British too would have been more inclined to support Europe had it been on their terms. Up until the 2005 referendum, winning and leading in Europe, or appearing to do so, served to quieten some of the fears in France about what European integration meant. The French won the rhetorical battles with the British over Europe, presenting European integration as an essentially French project. In Britain, the

European laggards and leaders 229 rhetoric became all about losing. Yet the portrayals of a Europe built according to French plans and in the interests of France ignore the extent to which Europe, as it emerged after 1950, went against much of traditional French thinking. The Jacobin tradition of a strong centralised nation-state was contradicted by the supranational logic of the European federalists and challenged by the diffusion of power between the member states, the various European institutions and other actors at the international, national and sub-national levels. The free-trade aspects of Europe went against the protectionist policies that many in France believed to be necessary to resist the international challenges the country faced in both the economic and cultural fields. A growing number of Frenchmen and women came to see Europe not as a French victory but as a threat and then as a defeat. The argument that France and French ideas had won the day in Europe was often heard in Britain but less so in France itself where there had long been a sense of dissatisfaction with many of the essential characteristics of the Europe that emerged from the 1980s onwards. This Europe, in French eyes, bore too many of the hallmarks of Thatcher’s economic liberalism. The idea of a social Europe seemed to have lost out to the notion of Europe as a marketplace. Hopes of creating a ‘European Europe’ able to resist globalisation and defend European culture against the tide of Americanisation were slipping away. The record of Britain’s membership of the EEC/EU was not only one of growing dissatisfaction and reverses that led inexorably to exit in 2016. The battle for leadership of Europe was fought by Britain and some significant battles were won. British efforts in favour of EEC/EU enlargement had been rewarded and looked likely to continue as new applications lined up for membership. The single market had been a significant British victory and had been won in the face of resistance from within the other member states, especially France. Europe had adopted an increasingly free-trade position in its relations with the world’s other major trading blocs, to an extent that would have delighted previous generations of British leaders. Institutional reforms had added to the EU’s roles and powers but these had been kept in check and the nation-states remained the key European actors. By the turn of the century, the EU agenda was much more focused on globalisation, competitiveness and the free market than it was on harmonisation or farm subsidies. All of these could have been seen as British victories. British Eurosceptics, on the other hand, by focusing on the questions of British sovereignty, argued that the EU, with its increasingly centralised powers, was not the sort of Europe that Britain wanted. The British successes in Europe, no matter how significant, went largely unsung. If Europe was, in many ways, taking on a more ‘Anglo-Saxon’ than French appearance this was not the impression that was given in Britain. There were many on the Continent, starting in France, who felt, on the contrary, that Europe was being dominated by a British social and economic models and that ‘Europe à l’anglaise’ had won out. The paradox of Britain leaving the EU when it was, in many ways, becoming more British was more widely recognised in France than in Britain.

230  European laggards and leaders If Britain could claim victory in the battle of ideas in Europe, the more visible political leadership was obviously not theirs. British leaders had fought for the leadership of Europe, usually against French rivals, but they were always facing an uphill battle. Their overall strategy, tactics and the personal leadership of the campaign, were rarely of the highest order. For long periods Britain had a strong hand in Europe, at others a weaker one. In both cases, the hand was played badly. British hubris in setting out on these European campaigns made their defeats all the harder. British leaders seemed at times to be happier to be seen fighting the other Europeans in order to please the domestic audience than to actually achieve their aim of placing Britain in the leading position. Criticising and complaining about Europe was an easier, and often more electorally rewarding, stance. Negotiating and accepting the necessary compromises required as part of the membership of a European community were frequently portrayed as weaknesses and defeats. French leaders, on the other hand, went out of their way to claim victory in the race for leadership in Europe and were happy to be seen to be playing this role. German leaders were content to take a more discreet backseat position. Their British counterparts were more usually seen as driving from neither the front nor the back seat. A Brexit Postscript: leaving not leading Europe One of the main arguments put forward by Macmillan in favour of European unity was that this was the only way the countries of Western Europe could face up to outside threats, assure their economic prosperity and defend their shared interests. His warnings of the dangers inherent in disunity in Europe were mostly forgotten in Britain from the 1980s onwards. The distance separating Britain and the Continent grew wider as the EEC/EU continued in a direction contrary to the one that the British wanted it to take. Attempts to re-connect Britain and the EEC/EU and to play a positive, possibly still a leading, role in Europe were made. However, despite the successes in imposing a very British economic model on the rest of Europe, attention focused instead on the institutional changes being introduced and the threat they posed to British sovereignty. The European debate became increasingly negative and the idea of giving up on Europe gained ground. The positive side of Britain’s European story was pushed into the background. The supposedly ‘pro-European’ leaders campaigning to remain in the EU in 2016 were unable to put across a convincing message. Gordon Brown argued that Britain should be ‘leading not leaving the EU’9 but his record as Chancellor and then Prime Minister had shown no enthusiasm for Europe. The calls to vote ‘remain’ from David Cameron and others who had spent many years bitterly complaining about the EU were even less convincing. Brexit has been explained as ‘the dénouement of a forty-year illusion,’ proof that the British ‘attempt to place the islands “at the heart of Europe” ’ had been ‘merely one more geopolitical fantasy, like Plantagenet ambitions to be Holy

European laggards and leaders  231 Roman Emperors or kings of France.’10 If this attempt was an illusion then it was one that was vigorously pursued by a succession of British leaders from the 1950s onwards. It is more accurate to see Brexit as the negation of fifty years of Britain’s European policy and as the moment when Britain finally relinquished its ambition to lead Europe. Following the 2016 referendum, British Ministers repeatedly argued that Britain was ‘leaving the EU but not leaving Europe’ and, in Boris Johnson’s words, that Britain would continue to play a ‘leading role in European co-operation of all kinds.’11 Events since have shown the shallowness of these claims. Nothing since 2016 has suggested that Britain is genuinely looking to play a leading role in Europe. Other European leaders, above all those in France, are unlikely to allow this should Britain ever attempt to do so. Leaving the EU was a conclusive withdrawal from the diplomatic battle for the leadership of Europe, whatever Boris Johnson’s claims to the contrary. This battle had been definitively lost. It had, however, been hard fought. Notes 1 Bertrand Badie, L’impuissance. 2 Hannay, Britain’s Quest, 171. 3 Young, Blessed Plot, 325. 4 Politico, 13 June 2017. 5 Hayward, Leaderless Europe. 6 MAE, Carton 1739, Série 16/24, 26 March 1963. 7 Peyrefitte, France redevient, 367–68. 8 Bossuat, L’Europe des Français, 1. 9 New Statesman, June 2016. 10 Tombs, Sovereign Isle, 58, 21. 11 Daily Express, 18 July 2016.

References Badie, Bertrand. L’impuissance de la puissance. Essais sur les incertitudes et les espoirs des nouvelles relations internationales. Paris: Fayard, 2004. Bossuat, Gérard. L’Europe des Français. 1943–1959. La IVe République aux sources de l’Europe communautaire. Paris: Editions de la Sorbonne, 1997. Hannay, David. Britain’s Quest for a Role. A Diplomatic Memoir From Europe to the UN. London: I. B. Tauris, 2013. Hayward, Jack. “Introduction: Inhibited Consensual Leadership Within an Interdependent Confederal Europe.” In Leaderless Europe, edited by Jack Hayward, 1–12. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008. Peyrefitte, Alain. C’était de Gaulle. Tome 1: “La France redevient la France”. Paris: Fayard, 1994. Tombs, Robert. This Sovereign Isle. Britain in and Out of Europe. London: Allen Lane, 2021. Young, Hugo. This Blessed Plot. Britain and Europe From Churchill to Blair. London: Macmillan, 1998.

Index

Acheson, D. 21, 54, 62 Adenauer, K. 10, 14, 42, 52, 54, 60, 63, 68, 77 – 8, 86, 90, 91, 92, 95, 103, 107, 108, 119, 120, 123, 134, 137, 139, 152, 161, 178; relationship with de Gaulle 19, 55, 88 – 9, 90, 96, 98, 102, 119, 133, 155 Algeria 81, 86, 90, 107, 136 Alphand, H. 139, 154 Armstrong, R. 157 Atlantic Alliance 1, 2, 4, 38, 44, 89, 91, 119, 137, 147, 161, 167, 210, 216, 218 Attlee, C. 3, 10, 20, 34, 46, 48, 57 Auriol, V. 48 Aznar, J.M. 213, 218 Barman, T. 154 Battle of Britain 17, 19 Beaverbrook, Lord 227 ‘Beef Wars’ 196 – 7, 208 Beloff, N. 102, 119, 130 Benn, T. 39 Berlin Crisis 90, 119, 135 Berlusconi, S. 213, 218 Bevin, E. 10, 25, 34, 42, 44 – 5, 47, 48, 54, 60, 63, 73 Beyen, W. 68, 71, 74, 78 ‘Black Wednesday’ (1992) 199 Blair, T. 3, 5, 9, 10, 14, 23, 24, 38, 63, 112, 200, 203 – 6, 208, 210 – 14, 223, 228; and Iraq War 217 – 18; policy towards the Euro 211 – 12, 215, 219; relations with Jacques Chirac 207, 209, 212 – 13, 214 – 15 Blücher, G. 86, 127 Brandt, W. 14, 151, 152, 155, 156

Bretherton, R. 71 Brexit debate and referendum 1, 3, 20, 21, 31, 32, 39, 200, 223, 227, 228, 230 – 1 Brown, George. 6, 142, 151 Brown, Gordon. 21, 205, 211, 230 Brussels Pact 44, 48, 49 BSE 196 – 7, 208 Bullard, J. 26 Bush, G. 192, 193 Butler, R.A. 72, 78 Caccia, H. 134 Callaghan, J. 10, 16, 34, 158, 160, 161, 162 – 3, 165 – 6, 167, 173, 177 Cameron, D. 230 Campbell, A. 214 Carrington, P. 151, 171, 173, 174 Castlereagh, R. 18 Charlemagne 31, 73, 83, 90, 95, 112 Charles, V. 15 Chequers seminar (1990) 192 Chirac, J. 15, 22, 25, 38, 113, 160, 164, 203, 206, 207, 208, 211, 213, 215, 216, 218, 223; relations with Blair 209, 212, 214, 215, 217 – 18, 219; relations with Thatcher 183 Churchill, W. 10, 21, 24, 25, 48, 56 – 7, 58, 59, 60, 94, 110, 141, 215, 216, 223; meeting de Gaulle on the eve of D-Day 21, 33, 94, 128, 154; three circles theory 32, 45, 71, 227; Zurich speech 56 – 7, 226 Clemenceau, G. 95 Clinton, B. 214 Clovis 95 Cobden, R. 10

Index  233 Colbert, J-B. 10 Common Agricultural Policy (CAP) 7, 36 – 7, 78, 89, 120, 124, 125, 138, 140, 143, 146, 154, 155, 159, 161, 162, 167, 170, 175, 183 – 4, 185, 187, 193, 206 – 7, 208, 215, 218, 219, 224, 225, 228 Common Fisheries Policy (CFP) 155, 162 Common Foreign and Security Policy (CFSP) 194, 210 Continental Blockade 36, 70, 95, 108 Cook, R. 217 Council of Europe 47, 48, 49, 52, 57, 59, 73, 222, 223 Couve de Murville, M. 31, 87, 99, 108, 121, 122, 127, 135, 136, 139, 141, 142, 144 Cyprus 135 D-Day landings 21, 94, 196, 197 Debré, M. 89 De Courcel, G. 83 De Gaulle, C. 1, 2, 4, 6, 9, 10, 14, 15, 17, 19, 20, 21, 23, 24, 25, 29, 31 – 3, 37 – 9, 68, 77, 81, 83 – 8, 107, 151, 152, 153, 154, 155, 157, 158, 161, 163, 164, 171, 177, 178, 196, 215, 216, 218, 223, 225, 227; 1967 veto 142 – 5; ‘empty chair’ crisis 138 – 9; relations with Britain 82 – 8, 96 – 8, 111, 113, 116 – 17, 120 – 7, 135 – 7; relations with Germany 88 – 91; relations with Germany 88 – 91, 137; relationship with Adenauer 88 – 90, 133; relationship with Macmillan 83 – 4, 94 – 5, 108, 113; relations with the United States 89, 91 – 4, 118 – 19; vetoes Britain’s EEC application (January 1963) 127 – 30, 133 – 4; vision of Europe 98 – 9, 102 – 4, 106, 117 – 18, 137 – 8, 147 – 8 Dehaene, J-L. 199 Delors Committee (1988) 186 Delors, J. 4, 5, 22, 30, 179, 182, 184 – 6, 194, 195, 198, 199 De Villepin, D. 8 Dixon, P. 17, 83, 85, 96, 121, 134, 136 Douglas-Home, A. 62 Dublin European summit (1980) 172 – 3

Duff Cooper, A. 42 Dunkirk evacuation 19, 21, 196 Dunkirk spirit 95, 197 Dunkirk Treaty 44, 49 Eccles, D. 59, 72 Eden, A. 10, 25, 58, 59, 62, 68, 70, 72 Eisenhower, D. 68 Elysée Treaty 90 – 1, 137, 139, 146 Enlargement of the EEC/EU 120, 147, 153 – 4, 164, 191, 199, 206, 212, 213, 229 Erhard, L. 78, 90, 105 Euratom 69, 222 European Central Bank (ECB) 193 European Charter of Human Rights 204 European Coal and Steel Community (ECSC) 25, 30, 36, 52, 54, 55 – 6, 58 – 60, 63, 68, 82, 112, 223, 226 European Commission 4, 14, 15, 23, 25, 36, 69, 75, 105, 106, 118, 120, 138, 139, 153, 155, 159, 160, 166, 175, 178, 179, 181, 182, 184, 186, 194, 195, 208 European Constitutional Convention (2005) 208 – 9 European Council 164 – 5, 186, 194, 195 European Court of Justice (ECJ) 52, 69, 195 European Currency Unit (ECU) 16, 186, 198 European Defence Community (EDC) 25, 59 – 62, 63, 66, 72, 74, 82, 222, 223 European Free Trade Association (EFTA) 78, 104 – 6, 109, 140 – 1, 151, 156, 222 European Launcher Development Organisation (ELDO) 15 European Monetary System (EMS) 30, 156, 165 – 6, 177, 185 – 6 European Parliament 139, 160, 162, 164, 177, 179, 185, 186, 194, 195 European Payments Union (EPU) 49 European Political Union 60, 61, 63, 117, 118 Euroscepticism in Britain 5, 11, 17, 22, 29, 32, 39, 170, 171, 182, 183, 185, 186, 191, 196, 199, 200, 209, 210, 223, 227, 228

234 Index Evans, H. 123 Exchange Rate Mechanism (ERM) 30, 165, 185, 186, 198, 199 Fashoda 97 Fergusson, E. 193 Fontainebleau European summit (1984) 176, 178, 179, 207 Fouchet Plan 25, 117 – 19, 123, 137, 223 Free Trade Area (FTA) 6, 19, 25, 34, 38, 72, 75, 76 – 8, 91, 99, 102 – 6, 107, 109, 122, 141, 143, 222, 223 Gaitskell, H. 21, 33, 139 Galtieri, L. 184 Garton-Ash, T. 195 General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) 35, 45, 76, 106, 139, 143, 162 Genscher-Colombo Plan (1981) 182 German reunification 89, 192 – 4 Gilmour, I. 172, 173, 174 Giscard d’Estaing, V. 10, 16, 31, 153, 161 – 6, 172 – 3, 175, 178, 194 Gladwyn Jebb, H.M. 35, 71, 74, 82, 83, 102, 144 Glavany, J. 208 Goldsmith, J. 200 Hague Conference (1948) 48 Hague summit (1969) 153 – 4 Hague, W. 208 Hallstein, W. 36, 105, 138 Hannay, D. 23, 174 – 5, 180, 181, 183, 193, 224 Harvey, O. 53, 67 Heath, E. 5, 29, 112, 151, 177, 184, 192; and British entry into the EEC (1973) 4, 10, 152 – 9, 166; and the Brussels negotiations (1961–63) 31, 108, 111, 117, 120, 134 – 6 Henderson, N. 19, 153, 157, 161, 163, 164, 166 Hibbert, R. 183 Hitler, A. 19, 21, 72, 73, 83, 192 Holy Roman Empire 31, 55, 230 – 1 Howard, M. 198 Howe, G. 30, 34, 174, 180 – 2, 186 Hoyer-Millar, F. 110, 111 Hundred Years War 17, 97 Hurd, D. 8, 9, 18, 64, 157, 195, 196

Indo-China 61, 81 International Monetary Fund (IMF) 35 Iraq War 8, 20, 211, 213, 217 – 18 Jenkins, R. 15, 16, 78, 166 Joan of Arc 17, 83, 95, 97 Johnson, B. 21, 208, 231 Jospin, L. 203, 213 Joubert, M. 160 Kennedy, J.F. 119, 120, 126, 128, 139, 216 Kipling, R. 173 Kirkpatrick, I. 66, 67 Kohl, H. 10, 14, 19, 26, 172, 176, 177, 178, 180, 182, 185, 186, 193, 194, 199, 210, 214 Korean War 59 Kosovo 210 Lamont, N. 198 Lawson, N. 186 Lisbon Treaty (2007) 209, 219 Louis XIV 6, 17, 21, 62, 72, 83, 86, 87, 95, 117 Luns, J. 31, 87, 118 Luxembourg European summit (1985) 181 – 2 Maastricht European summit (1991) 194 – 6, 198, 200 Maastricht Treaty 25, 194, 198, 199, 210 Macmillan, H. 9, 10, 21, 22, 25, 32, 38, 47, 56, 58, 59, 61, 62, 68, 71, 72, 74, 77, 78, 84, 86, 91, 92, 104, 105, 107 – 9, 111 – 13, 116, 119, 134, 136, 140, 146, 156, 216, 230; relations with de Gaulle 19, 83 – 4, 94 – 8, 103 – 4, 120 – 30 Madrid European summit (1989) 197 Maillard, P. 144 Major, J. 5, 25, 187, 191, 194 – 201, 203, 204 – 5, 208, 210, 216 Mallaby, C. 8 Mangold, P. 130 Marshall Plan 35, 49 Maudling Committee 76 – 7, 102, 103 Merkel, A. 14, 213 Mers-el-Kebir 21 Messina Conference 68, 70, 71 – 5

Index  235 Meyer, C. 204, 218 Milan European summit (1985) 180 – 1 Milward, A. 63 Mitterrand, F. 10, 14, 19, 22, 24, 25, 170, 172, 177, 178, 179, 180, 182, 184, 185, 186, 187, 192 – 4, 199, 210, 216 Mollet, G. 68 Monnet, J. 1, 4, 5, 33, 49, 52, 53, 54, 60, 61, 70, 118, 147, 156, 165, 195 Morrison, H. 48 Multilateral Nuclear Force (MLF) 137 Murdoch, R. 227 Napoleon 6, 17, 21, 31, 36, 62, 72, 83, 86, 95, 103, 104, 108, 174, 226 Napoleon III 83 Nassau summit (December 1962) 126, 128 Nelson, H. 18 Nigeria 135 North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) 44, 49, 62, 68, 72, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 107, 118, 135, 137, 139, 147, 179, 210, 213 Nott, J. 172 Nuclear weapons 38, 68, 84, 89, 90, 112, 120, 125, 126, 135, 137 – 8, 143, 161, 193, 210 Olympic games (London 2014) 214 O’Neill, C. 110, 155 Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) 103 Organisation for European Economic Cooperation (OEEC) 30, 35, 38, 44, 47, 49, 50, 52, 53, 54, 58, 71, 74, 76, 99, 103, 106, 199, 222, 223 Ortoli, F-X. 16 Palmerston, H. 18 Patten, C. 195 Petsche, M. 54 Peyrefitte, A. 121 Pisani, E. 128 – 9 Plan G 75 Pleven, R. 60 Pompidou, G. 10, 25, 36, 94, 141, 145, 153 – 6, 158, 160

Powell, C. 182, 185, 192 Pym, F. 171 Qualified Majority Voting (QMV) 48, 139, 179, 181, 182, 194, 195 Quebec 135 Reagan, R. 177, 187 Referendum on EEC membership (1975) 159 – 60 Referendum Party 200 Referendums in France and the Netherlands (2005) 209, 214, 215, 228 Renwick, R. 24, 175, 176 Reynaud, P. 94 Reynolds, D. 196 Rhodesia 135 Richelieu 83, 117 Ridley, N. 192 Rome European Summit (1990) 186 Rome Treaty 10, 25, 68, 69, 73, 74, 75, 76, 78, 103, 104, 106, 108, 121, 122, 124, 141, 144, 154, 181, 187, 222, 223 Roosevelt, F.D. 21, 128 Rumsfeld, D. 216 Saddam Hussein 217 Saint-Malo Agreement 38, 210, 211 Salisbury, R. 18 Sarkozy, N. 10, 213 Scargill, A. 184 Schengen Convention (1990) 194 Schmidt, H. 14, 161 – 6, 172, 178, 194 Schröder, G. (1910–89) 128 Schröder, G. (1944–) 207, 212, 213, 218 Schuman, R. 1, 5, 52, 53 – 4, 165 Schuman Plan 26, 34, 47, 52, 53 – 61, 62, 63, 70, 73, 222, 226 Selwyn Lloyd, J. 75, 102 Single European Act (SEA) 25, 178, 182, 185, 187, 228 Single European currency 1, 2, 6, 25, 182, 186, 193, 195, 197, 198 Single market 6, 69, 181, 182, 184, 187, 194, 199, 229 Smith, A. 10 Soames, C. 84, 129, 145, 152, 156 Soames affair 9, 145 – 6 Social Chapter 195, 204, 206

236 Index Somme commemoration 178 Spaak Committee 68, 74, 75 Spaak, P-H. 31, 42, 57, 61, 70, 74, 78, 87, 90, 103, 118, 128, 129, 147, 226 Spinelli Treaty (1984) 182 Stafford Cripps, R. 53 Stewart, M. 14, 82, 140, 142 Straw, J. 209, 213 Suez crisis 21, 66, 67, 68, 75, 76, 140 Thatcher, M. 9, 10, 16, 20, 22, 23, 24, 32, 34, 39, 167, 170 – 88, 191, 192, 193, 194, 197, 198, 199, 203, 204, 205, 206, 208, 216, 218, 228, 229; Bruges speech 18, 32, 185, 205, 206 Thorneycroft, P. 72, 109 Trafalgar 18 Turkey 213

Vedrine, H. 29 Verdun commemoration (1984) 19, 178 Vietnam 135 Wall, S. 5 Waterloo 4, 18, 83, 86, 94, 127, 195, 196 Wellington, A. 18, 226 Western European Union (WEU) 62, 63, 71, 135, 210, 222 Western Union 42, 44 Wilson, H. 6, 9, 10, 22, 32, 38, 84, 86, 95, 96, 111, 136, 139, 140 – 6, 148, 155, 156, 158 – 60, 161, 163, 166, 167, 173 Wormser, O. 135 Yalta 92 – 3 Yeltsin, B. 214 Young, H. 110, 224