Philosopher with ‘a lot of punch’

Date: 21/03/1996

THE lives of classical Italian heroes are often summed up with three biographical notes: nascamento, morto e miracolo, or birth, death and miracle.

Silvio Fagiolo's friends say his miracle was the Maastricht Treaty.

If he is lucky, the Italian diplomat will perhaps have two miracles to his credit. But he will have to work hard for the second one.

Next week, Fagiolo will formally open the Intergovernmental Conference, the meeting of EU governments to revise the Maastricht Treaty which already threatens to be more of a clash than a conference.

The signs are already there. Earlier this month, Fagiolo found himself at odds with France's Hervé de Charette at a meeting of EU foreign ministers in Palermo.

De Charette wanted something that only Fagiolo had - the ground rules for the IGC. The French foreign minister said that he wanted to see the proposed rules, drawn up by Fagiolo after consultations with each EU capital, so that if member states disagreed with them, they could fight it out before the conference began. But Fagiolo stood firm, saying ministers must wait until the eve of the conference.

His voice as soft as his gentle, sympathetic smile, he hardly looked the man to take on a battle. In the face of French ire, he became not belligerent but philosophical, appearing almost amused by events. The governments will fight during the conference anyway, so what difference does it make if they fight before, he observed wryly.

But colleagues say that Fagiolo's soft exterior is merely his chosen battledress. After a long and distinguished diplomatic career, Fagiolo is used to tough assignments.

In Moscow during the Breshnev years on his first foreign posting, Fagiolo learned Russian fluently and served as an interpreter when dignitaries from Rome arrived for meetings with Leonid Breshnev and Andrei Gromyko.

Detroit, and then Bonn, must have tested the patience of a young diplomat anxious to move on, but Fagiolo passed the time profitably, adding English and German to his linguistic repertoire of Russian, French and his native Italian, and learning enough about German politics to write two highly-respected books.

His tomes - one on Germany's foreign and European policy up to the 1970s and another on Russo-German relations - are published by Einaudi, one of Italy's most prestigious publishing houses.

In the mid-Eighties, the foreign ministry brought Fagiolo home to Rome, where he wrote speeches for Foreign Ministers Giulio Andreotti and Gianni De Michelis.

During a Machiavellian period at the ministry's Farnesina Palace, Fagiolo was beloved by his colleagues for being straightforward and loyal.

“He is very respected, very authoritative,” said one fellow worker who observed confidence in the Italian diplomat grow as the governments he served became ragged at the edges.

Despite that affection, Fagiolo paid dearly for his association with De Michelis. When the minister, who handed out promotions like biscuits and had promoted Fagiolo twice for his services at Maastricht, fell from power, his protégés were demoted by the succeeding government. Fagiolo also lost a rank, despite general acknowledgement that he did not really deserve such a punishment.

In 1991, Fagiolo was sent to Washington, where he served as the ambassador's number two until he was asked in 1995 to represent his country on the Reflection Group laying the groundwork for the IGC.

Fagiolo was not the first nominee for the job. Livio Caputo, deputy foreign minister to the then Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi, was initially tipped for the post, but came under fire from other political parties for not being sufficiently pro-European for the job.

Caputo withdrew his name, and Fagiolo was called home from Washington to fill the gap.

In the Reflection Group, made up mostly of ambassadors and ministers, Fagiolo ranked fairly low. But his knowledge of both EU affairs and the Maastricht Treaty is beyond question.

Fagiolo was the author of the draft, approved by European leaders when they launched the last review of the EU treaties at their Rome summit in October 1990, which foreshadowed what the new Maastricht Treaty would look like.

The agreement in Rome to push forward with economic and monetary union left UK Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher standing alone against her partners, and triggered the events which eventually led to her resignation only weeks later.

In her memoirs, Thatcher rues that Rome summit, calling it a Machiavellian plot by Andreotti and De Michelis. She did not know that it was Fagiolo who scripted the ideas lurking between the lines in the compromise text which took Thatcher beyond what she was capable of accepting.

“Behind his nice appearance and high culture, he's a man that has a lot of punch and he is a very strong negotiator,” said a fellow Italian diplomat.

Today's EU leaders should beware, for Fagiolo, who now ghost-writes articles on institutional questions and treaty reform that appear in newspapers under the signature of Italian Foreign Minister Susanna Agnelli, is likely to show the same skill and inner toughness again this year.

Fagiolo has made his priorities for the three months that he will serve as IGC chairman clear. He insists that “the main needs of the Union are a more visible profile in external affairs, and to have it felt by the citizens as much closer to them and their problems”.

Although talk of the EU institutions during the treaty review may seem dull to outsiders, Fagiolo argues that “institutions are really the instruments to do things” and when they malfunction, the Union becomes “irrelevant”.

That feeling about institutions may stem from Fagiolo's early professional life. His career actually began in Brussels where he served as a young fonctionnaire at the European Commission.

Fagiolo, a committed European, has led a life that would fit nicely into textbooks on the history of the Union.

Born in Rome in the heyday of Mussolini, Fagiolo was seven years old when the Second World War ended, and his professional life has mirrored developments in the history of the Community which began with the Rome Treaty.

Like all good Italian boys, he was an avid soccer player. In fact, Fagiolo's talent even took him to the national student championships.

“You wouldn't guess he was a football star,” said a colleague. “When you see him, he's so small and has such an intelligent air.”

It is easier to imagine Fagiolo engrossed in his other favourite pursuit - the arts, literature and high society of 19th century Rome.

“He has a passion for les petites histoires” - the anecdotes and historical gossip of Roman society and of the popes in the Vatican - said one friend.

Fagiolo also has a soft spot for the music and folklore of Naples, whose faded elegance still draws him for frequent visits with his German wife Helga and their son and daughter.

Friends say he is an addict of opera buffa, the comic opera which Naples made famous, and while in the vicinity, rarely misses a chance to stroll around the island of Ischia.

Like one of opera buffa's favourite characters, Cenerentola or Cinderella, Silvio Fagiolo has been working silently to make his European house shine.

Next week, he will finally go to the ball.