At first glance, Jacques Delors did not readily fit the label of being some kind of radical, let alone “revolutionary”, figure. His public demeanour was always that of a reflective intellectual rather than a brash activist. But it was a label some French commentators attached to him when he was first appointed president of the European Commission in 1985.
After the postwar years, which led to the launch of the European Economic Community in 1957, most of the subsequent commission presidents proved to be worthy but utterly unmemorable “Eurocrats”. During my first years in Brussels, before Delors’s appointment, there was a widespread fear the initial momentum behind an ever more united Europe was melting away.
Delors’s pre-EU story – notably his strong commitment to the trade union movement and opposition to social inequality – perhaps reflected his support for the Radical Socialist party and the experience of the near revolutionary turbulence during the 1968 crisis, when French workers occupied their factories. When he later addressed the annual TUC conference, appealing to British workers to join the battle for social justice in the EU, he reminded them that “your European comrades await you”. This was greeted with stormy applause and, perhaps inevitably, an enthusiastic rendering of the French children’s ballad, Frère Jacques.
His commitment to a barrier-free EU single market – a goal he initially shared with Margaret Thatcher – was always predicated on it being run by the European Union, rather than by national governments. He saw the single market as part of a wider “economic and social partnership” at EU level and a step to a single currency. He secured the passage of the single market with the active support of Lord Arthur Cockfield, a British Conservative commissioner. “Arthur has gone native,” was Mrs Thatcher’s outraged response.
In private discussions and press conferences, Delors always sought to speak with precision when talking about closer EU integration. Once, replying to a question of mine in French, he declared: “But I am not a federalist. What I want is a federalising Europe.” By this he meant a step-by-step process, rather than a preconceived end goal.
Delors’s commitment to an ever closer EU was never merely for economic necessity. The commission drove forward programmes for greater workplace rights and social justice. Programmes like the Erasmus scheme, to foster education, training and sport across EU frontiers, were seen as building blocks to a democratic European polity.
His biggest battles were fought to secure acceptance of a succession of EU treaty changes governing the steps to the single European currency. He insisted more powers for the EU executive must be balanced by greater powers for the elected European parliament. Immediately after the collapse of the iron curtain he championed the opening up of the EU to new member states. But perhaps not even he ever expected that the original six-nation EU would grow to the present 27, with another six candidate countries preparing for membership.
After the fall of the Berlin Wall, when travelling with Delors and fellow commissioners to the newly independent states in central and eastern Europe, I saw him urging them to begin preparations immediately to join the EU – not as supplicants but as equal partners. He was even open to trying to find an EU-Soviet Union cooperation formula. One bridge too far.
Delors’s achievement as commission president would not have been possible without major political allies. During his presidency he could count – mostly – on the crucial support of German chancellor Helmut Kohl and of his former French government colleague, President François Mitterrand. But even they recognised his unprecedented stature as president of the commission, notwithstanding intermittent bouts of irritation about his supranational political ambitions. Perhaps, after such an intense experience, Delors refused an invitation to run for the French presidency when he stepped down from the commission.
Delors’s driving mission for EU integration and expansion occurred in a very different global context than today’s. Were he president now he would face actual war on the borders of the EU and the possibility of a US Trump presidency. His attention would no doubt switch to how to ensure that security and defence policies strengthen – not weaken – the ongoing “federalising” of Europe.
John Palmer was the Guardian’s European editor, based in Brussels, for two periods between 1974 and 1997
