Crusader against crime

Date: 05/12/1996

JÜRGEN Storbeck is blessed with the perfect name for his job.

If it did not already exist, a crime writer would have had to invent it: 'Storbeck' conjures up images of a hard-bitten German detective striking matches on his stubble and tossing their charred remains upon vanquished criminals.

It is a fitting image for one of the most glamorous-sounding jobs in the police fraternity. Head of the European Drugs Unit, which will formally be transformed into Europol in 1998, Storbeck is the EU's front-line policeman against a growing wave of cross-border crime.

If only life were so romantic. In reality it is with information, not intimidation, that he fights international criminal kingpins - and his greatest battles so far have not been against latter-day Fu Manchus, but with European politicians.

More of a Watson than a Holmes, Storbeck has needed all his legal training to solve thoroughly administrative puzzles on the road to pan-European policing. According to many, he has done so with surprising speed.

Since the creation of the European Drugs Unit (EDU) in 1993, Storbeck has presided over his institution's rapid rise from 'good idea' to fully-operational organisation.

Initially restricted to the fight against drugs - which still accounts for most of its activities - the EDU has since expanded to cover illegal immigration, money laundering, stolen cars, nuclear smuggling and, most recently, paedophilia.

All along the way, Storbeck has never missed an opportunity to 'sell' his fledgling institution, speaking at countless conferences and meetings in his up-front style.

And, at least partially thanks to his non-stop lobbying, Storbeck helped achieve what many believe to be the big success of EU justice and home affairs cooperation so far.

Although the EDU was always seen as a forerunner of a Union-wide criminal intelligence agency, a bitter dispute over the role of the European Court of Justice at one time threatened to scupper the entire Europol project.

Member states finally reached a compromise this summer at their summit in Florence, making ECJ jurisdiction an optional part of the convention.

While this was clearly a political solution pushed through by strong German pressure, it is testament to Storbeck's mastery of public relations that journalists were referring to him as the head of Europol long before the deal was actually clinched.

Storbeck comes across as a charming, if serious, man - softly spoken, even - but clearly in command of his subject.

This has proved to be a vital skill as he shuttles between politicians, police officers and civil servants, according to Wolfgang Dicke of the German Police Federation.

“He knows for sure what he wants and he has a certain way through charm of convincing people of his cause without them realising it,” he explains.

“Only people who can deal with such a tremendous number of institutions would be right for the job.”

But what some have described as an occasionally Prussian approach to negotiations has created its fair share of acrimony, not least with Storbeck's former colleagues at Interpol.

Especially in the early days, the 40-year-old organisation was extremely wary of the new European upstart and relations were less than cordial.

Dicke says it is curious that there should have been any dispute - after all, it was Interpol's refusal to set up a European secretariat within its four walls (which Storbeck strongly supported) which prompted the EU to set up its own unrelated body.

But Storbeck asserts that relations have improved considerably and that the two organisations have now more or less established a modus vivendi. In general, this means that Europol focuses on the EU, while Interpol covers everything else.

Storbeck's ability to find compromises in difficult situations should come as no surprise, says one Brussels official. “It is easy to cooperate with him because he understands he is not in a position to go it alone. He needs the support of other bodies.”

This clearly applies within his organisation as well as outside.

Storbeck is far from a lone battler against the status quo. Indeed, some even go so far as to suggest that his greatest strength is the quality of his supporters.

The EDU team in The Hague is renowned for its efficiency and competence, and is often cited by national police officers as a prime example of how an agency should run.

The star performer on Storbeck's team is Willy Bruggeman, a Belgian gendarme with a military education who has become a symbol of successful international cooperation. Regarded as the key operator in almost all Europol negotiations, Bruggeman, rather than Storbeck, has often attracted the limelight.

Other staff from Italy, the UK and Luxembourg have welded together to create a healthy mix of different styles and cultures.

According to those who know him well, Storbeck revels in this international atmosphere. “I think he would be unhappy to go back to national police work,” says one official.

To his credit, Storbeck has assumed a fairly loose management style, allowing his staff plenty of rein to express themselves. But he is not above the temptations of power, and has sometimes created the impression that he relishes his empire-building role.

Perhaps that is exactly what is needed for the creator of an institution, but one suspects that the patronage of German Chancellor Helmut Kohl at every turn has helped Storbeck maintain his confident air.

“When he wants something he goes after it vigorously and he always gets German support,” says one Brussels official.

It may not be a complete coincidence, either, that Europol's structure will be very similar to that of Storbeck's old haunt, the German detective force, the Bundeskriminalamt (BKA).

On the other hand, many admit that the way in which the BKA reconciles regional sovereignty with the need for national intelligence (Germany's federal states control the police) is a useful model for a pan-European police body.

“The relationship between the German Länder and the central union is in many ways similar to that between the member states and the EU,” says a Brussels diplomat.

But any suggestion that Storbeck is playing a purely German tune would be unfair, according to his admirers. His entire career has been dedicated to curbing international crime and he will be remembered as one of the pioneers of EU criminal cooperation.

Along with a few others, Storbeck was one of the first to comprehend fully the side-effects of creating a European village. Today's criminal shuns dusky alleys, preferring instead to embrace the legal backstreets between member states' legislative edifices.

And while national politicians hum and haw about sovereignty, transnational criminals are showing them the true meaning of the free market. Storbeck responds by reading EU governments their criminals' rights, in the hope that national pride will succumb to practical expediency.

But despite his lawyer's tongue, there is little doubt that inside Storbeck beats a policeman's heart.

He is certainly not known for expressing his emotions, despite the occasional - and quickly forgotten - outburst. Nor is Storbeck a man to be distracted by fripperies: Brussels' polished diplomats are sometimes taken aback by his impatience to get down to detail. “That is why he is an interesting character,” says one. “He is able to maintain his sense of vision, and yet go into very practical things.”

This approach also characterises Storbeck's great campaign for intelligence-gatherers throughout the EU and beyond to adopt common methodologies.

His own level of knowledge is renowned, and was one of the major reasons why he was picked for the job.

“He has a very good overview on the development of modern criminality - in particular organised crime,” says Christian Democrat MEP and compatriot Hartmut Nassauer.

But until countries produce comparable statistics, Storbeck asserts, it will never be possible to build a truly accurate picture of what is going on.

Ultimately, then, it will be for his methodology that Storbeck will be remembered. A baton-wielding avenger may make better copy for glamour-seeking journalists but, in modern crime, the calculator is truly mightier than the truncheon.