I am not sure of the year, but I still remember the look on my adviser’s face when she came into my office, very upset, and asked: “Did you know that five European ministers met on their own and put out a joint document? Did our minister of the area know about the meeting? Did he say anything against it?”
I don’t know what I answered, especially because I had not yet read the “Europe” bulletin, which had probably already reported something about the fact. I assume that said I didn’t know. The truth is that I already had some suspicions. The area in question — which is not important here — was, at that time, very unstable and polemic. Even so, it was not a good thing that the Secretary of State for European Affairs, which I was at the time, and who was supposed to coordinate the government’s European actions, had not been told by the ministry responsible.
But had the minister of that area told the Prime Minister? I went to find out. Guterres didn’t know. And the Minister of Foreign Affairs? Gama didn’t know either.
I called the minister, a friendly and politically experienced person, who told me that he had heard some “rumours” about the possibility of some of his colleagues meeting separately, but that he had decided to wait and see. The result, in his view, did not seem particularly worrying.
I did not agree. It was a very bad precedent, because of the formality — which seemed to me unusual — of having put out a joint statement. I made it clear in an indirect way (I did not have the political authority to say it directly) that he should have protested. He replied that he would “have a word” with some of his colleagues.
Which countries had met? The “usual suspects”, as Captain Renault would say in Casablanca: France, Germany, the United Kingdom, Italy and Spain. That meeting was also just “the beginning of a beautiful friendship” among those five, to use Rick’s words, a few seconds later, in the same scene of the film.
That apparently small episode already showed a hidden trend inside the European Union: the tendency of some of the bigger and more powerful states to coordinate their positions among themselves outside the official institutions, and then push them into the common decision-making process. What was then an informal exception was starting to become a method.
It was not an isolated case, as time would show. From then on, this kind of “minilateralism” grew and has now become normal practice, without anyone seeming to be bothered anymore. Some states are always part of this “inner group”, while others are brought in when needed. Portugal joins when they think it is useful. Nowadays, quite often, and with London replaced by Warsaw for some time now, this group of five — saying they act for reasons of effectiveness, but actually implying, without saying it openly, that they have the power to do so — meets in small groups, no longer hiding that it wants its conclusions to become guidelines for the others.
What I find more serious is that they bring to these meetings institutions that are supposed to represent the whole Union: the Commission and the presidency of the Council of Ministers.
Coordination in itself is not a problem. It has always existed and will probably not disappear. States with similar interests will naturally tend to align their positions before formal negotiations. It is well known that, at certain moments in European history, small-group initiatives have helped to break deadlocks and move the integration process forward.
It is important, however, to make a difference between political coordination and the creation of an informal leadership group. The first is a normal part of diplomatic life. The second happens when a small group starts to make decisions outside the institutions and then presents its conclusions as solutions that the other states are simply expected to accept. It is in this move from coordination to pre-decision that the real problem is.
The Union’s treaties allow for different forms of integration and enhanced cooperation, but they do so through clear procedures, with a legal basis and, above all, open to the participation of the other Member States. What we see more and more today is different: informal meetings, without any institutional basis, trying to gain a political authority that is too big for what they actually are.
The reason given is almost always the same: the need to act quickly and effectively. That argument has some value. A Union of twenty-seven states can hardly move as fast as a group of five or six. But there is an important difference between preparing solutions and deciding in advance. Effectiveness cannot become an excuse for replacing, in practice, the mechanisms through which the Union makes its decisions legitimate.
It is true that states do not have the same political weight, diplomatic capacity or international influence. This inequality is part of the European reality, and it would be naive to ignore it. Precisely for that reason, the Community’s construction has, from the beginning, been based on a set of rules designed to stop differences in power from automatically becoming differences in political authority.
When these balances are regularly bypassed through informal practices, the risk is not only that smaller states are left out: it is the Community method itself that gets weaker. Decisions continue to be formally taken by the institutions set out in the treaties, but their content starts to be shaped somewhere else, in smaller circles and with less collective oversight.
In the short term, this model may even produce results. In the medium and long term, however, it tends to reduce trust in the system. If people start to believe that there is a permanent core that decides and a periphery that simply follows, the weakening of the Union’s political legitimacy becomes unavoidable.
The European Union has always lived with a delicate balance between effectiveness and legitimacy. These are not opposing values; they depend on each other. Effectiveness without legitimacy may produce faster decisions, but it will hardly produce a stronger Union. And a legitimacy that keeps getting weaker will, sooner or later, also damage the very effectiveness it was supposed to serve.












































