Assembly scales the summits

Date: 06/02/1997

“This year is looking rather alpine”, according to the Council of Europe's Secretary-General Daniel Tarschys. “It is going to be one summit after another.”

Europe's 40-nation assembly is no exception to this picture. In October, leaders from all over Europe will converge upon the Alsatian town of Strasbourg to ask just where the body should be heading.

The Council of Europe has enjoyed something of a renaissance over the past six years, symbolised by its Vienna summit in October 1993.

That gathering of heads of state and government marked a turning point in the organisation's history, giving it fresh impetus and a new raison d'être at the end of the Cold War.

Shedding its image as the EU's poor cousin, the Council has embarked on a phase of unprecedented growth, with its membership rising from 23 to 40 members since the start of the decade, culminating in Croatia's controversial accession last November.

Along the way it has picked up all the central and eastern European applicants to the EU, a good number of former Soviet republics and, last February, the glittering prize - Russia.

Suddenly, the rest of the world began to take notice: the United States applied for (and gained, despite its death penalty) observer status in 1993, alongside Canada and Japan; Australia is now often involved in Council work; and Mexico is also being considered as an observer.

Other countries which have joined the bandwagon, to a greater or lesser extent, are China, South Africa and Israel.

Far from being a project left behind by the late 20th century, the Council of Europe has found a cause and an identity - shoring up the new democracies against any return to totalitarianism.

But four years after Vienna, with the initial adrenaline surge beginning to subside, it is time to take stock.

“We must now concentrate upon the post-enlargement process,” says Tarschys. “We have essentially five applicant states still left; then we have Yugoslavia which has not applied. But with these six, that is more or less the end of the enlargement story.”

Tarschys sees his main task now as bolstering the Council's 'key values' - democracy, human rights and the rule of law.

“All governments have sworn by these standards, but we know that it is difficult to live up to them. We must help each other to live up to these high ideals,” he says. “That means supporting institutional reforms and helping legal reforms in many of our members.”

Now that the church bells have stopped ringing and the honeymoon photos are in their albums, the real work is getting under way.

The countries of central and eastern Europe (CEECs) must slowly but surely begin signing, ratifying and implementing the 163 Council of Europe conventions on offer, all of which will take a very long time.

But, as the CEECs themselves are quick to point out, this is excellent training for EU membership. Bridging the gap between intentions and actions is the single biggest challenge faced by the transition administrations, swimming against the tide to reach western standards.

In this process, says Tarschys, one of the most valuable roles the Council of Europe can play is as a meeting place where officials can swap tips. “Membership of the assembly here is often a training process for ministerial posts in central and eastern Europe,” he says.

But the institution is quick to counter any suggestion that is simply a 'waiting-room for the EU', as commentators often describe it.

Leni Fischer, the president of the body's parliamentary assembly, is adamant that the expression gives the wrong impression. “It is not a waiting-room, it is a bridge,” she insists.

Nevertheless, no country has ever enrolled in the Union's various incarnations without joining the Council of Europe first.

The two bodies have far more in common than many people realise. Despite their clear separation in formal terms, many of the national experts who go to Council of Europe meetings are the same people who negotiate in Brussels.

Day-to-day Council of Europe business often involves close contacts with European Commission officials - especially in areas such as racism and xenophobia - and there has long been a tradition of mobility between the two bodies.

An old secretary-general of the organisation, Marcelino Oreja, is now a European Commissioner and many other leading EU lights sharpened their teeth in Strasbourg. Keen people-watchers might even identify some future CEEC Eurocrats among the Council's ranks.

Council officials might also note that, individual pride aside, the 'waiting-room' tag is not necessarily a hindrance.

For all the outside interest in enlargement, it was notable at last week's parliamentary assembly that the majority of journalists present were from the East.

Press officials admit that western coverage, aside from the odd snipe at Croatia or delight at a headline-grabbing case at the European Court of Human Rights, lags behind that of the activities of other international institutions.

But observers point out that if EU journalists were to recognise that, for example, Council of Europe monitoring reports on democracy in the East could influence the CEECs' prospects of Union membership, they might show more interest.

The biggest crowd-puller, however, would be some no-nonsense tough talk. A sleepy domestic hound evokes little interest; a barking, snapping guard dog captures instant attention.

This year could be the institution's big chance. There are rumours that the suspension of Turkey is back on the agenda as damning evidence mounts up from the Council's human rights arm.

Similarly, Russian and Ukrainian tardiness in ratifying the Convention on Human Rights and abolishing the death penalty is receiving critical attention.

Discussions within the Council on Cypriot tensions,

Czech-German reconciliation and Yugoslavian elections have all helped efforts to broker international solutions to difficult problems.

In all of this, however, the Council faces a classical liberal dilemma. Throw retrograde states out into the cold and their populations could suffer even more; erect walls once again and the Cold War could come back to haunt Europe.

The most effective action is not always the most newsworthy. Nevertheless, the Council of Europe does appear at last to be growing some teeth.

When, on 13 January, Belarus' 'special guest' status was suspended, the international media jumped.

Other badly behaved members would do well to take note that there is a new-found confidence within the body, although it still has a long way to go. That confidence has not been upset by growing attention from other international institutions - most notably NATO, whose magazine NATO Review gave the Council of Europe front-page coverage last month.

Similarly, the Union instigated even closer relations with the organisation through an exchange of letters last year, building on a Delors-Oreja deal struck in the late 1980s.

Tarschys says these overtures reflect a growing sense of the Council's value as a civilian guarantee of prosperity, buoyed by an acceptance that peace in our time is far from secure.

Europe, despite its sense of post-Cold War relief, is still in a precarious position.

The south east Mediterranean, the Balkans and the former Soviet Union are the most obvious examples of the regions which are continuing to cause concern.

The Council's supporters argue that if it can help dispel those tensions in any way, it should not be ignored.

By providing a forum for debate, it has already won half the battle.