Shadowing the shadow health chief, Telicka

Date: 10/06/04

IT'S 8am and Pavel Telicka is getting nervous. He left home at the usual time, 7.15am, but, today, traffic outside the rented home near Waterloo to where he's recently moved with his wife, son and daughter, has been held up by a refuse collection.

He finally arrives at his spacious, newly refurbished ninth-floor office at the rear of the European Commission's Breydel headquarters at 8.15am, immediately sets about preparing for his first meeting of the day.

Telicka, who isn't 39 until 24 August, has been called the "baby commissioner" as he's easily the youngest of the ten commissioners from the EU's new member states.

Each earns a gross salary of €18,000 per month and enjoys the trappings of life as a commissioner, including an official car with a driver, an office and a small team of aides. But what they do not have is a 'proper' job.

Though the newcomers will vote in formal meetings, they will not control a department but spend six months 'shadowing' existing commissioners.

Like most of his new colleagues, Telicka, the representative from the Czech Republic, is expected to become a member of the next Commission team.

But until the Commission led by Romano Prodi finishes its term in office on 31 October, he is shadowing David Byrne, the health and consumer protection commissioner.

A meeting later in the day with the German health minister is one of the first items on the agenda of the daily 8.45am conference with his cabinet.

Unlike existing commissioners, the newcomers have a smaller team - just three officials compared with the usual six.

Today, Telicka is joined by his deputy head of cabinet, the 33-year-old Briton Mark Gray, a former lawyer, his long-time Czech assistant, Vanda Vojtkova, and two other assistants.

The balding, bespectacled Telicka immediately sets about briefing his mostly young team on the outcome of his weekly meeting the previous day with his fellow commissioners.

Though it was his fourth such College meeting, he recalls the "special thrill" he got when attending his first.

Things start to liven up somewhat when talk moves to a mysterious document, referred to only as 'Paper X'.

It later transpires that, such is the sensitivity of the report, Telicka has deliberately chosen not to divulge its identity in the presence of a journalist.

Such reticence is, it seems, abnormal with this Washington-born son of a lawyer-turned-diplomat.

Says Gray: "He's very open and rarely has fixed views on anything without first hearing all the arguments."

He adds: "He prepares meticulously for meetings and isn't the type to turn up for one without having fully read a dossier.

"Of course, there will be questions he cannot yet answer, but you've got to remember he's been given a portfolio which took David Byrne five years to master."

The only reservation, adds one aide, is that he doesn't smile enough.

"He's quite jovial and jokey but, because he is also very serious and intense, this doesn't always come through," he said.

It's during these cabinet meetings, or 'brainstorming' sessions where, according to Gray, much of the commissioners' policymaking is done.

Telicka cuts short the meeting, however, to spell out how he went about forming his multi-national team: his head of cabinet is Alexander Italianer, a Dutchman who was previously head of Enlargement Commissioner Günter Verheugen's cabinet (and must be the only one in his position who's older than his boss).

Unusually, the only Czech official is his number three, Jaroslav Zajicek, who followed him from the country's mission (now permanent representation) to the EU. Says Telicka: "I wasn't interested in just bringing in people from my own country," he says. "I wanted top people."

Although Byrne has delegated certain policy areas to his 'shadow', including the environment and AIDS, Telicka is not in regular contact with the Irishman and is able, to a large extent, to set his own agenda.

No sooner has one meeting finished than another begins: next up is a 60-minute exchange with German Health Minister Ulla Schmidt. And, with Schmidt and her four-strong entourage on one side of the table and Telicka, flanked by two aides, on the other, it's about as formal as you can get.

But, having done his homework by preparing for the meeting at home the previous night, he feels ready for his first formal meeting with a government minister since taking up office on 1 May.

Telicka speaks English, French and Russian, but today a translator is on hand to help navigate him through an issue he readily accepts is not one of his strong points - to the extent he admits that the health portfolio was not his first choice. (He later qualifies this by stressing that he finds the job "challenging" and will be more than happy to stay in it after the autumn intake.)

After a short exchange on AIDS and patient mobility, Schmidt wishes him the best of luck, offers her "full support" and is gone.

Later, she confides that she found Telicka "positive, open-minded and very energetic".

The bull-necked Telicka is certainly full of energy, partly the result of his rugby-playing background (three knee operations have curtailed that), regular gym workouts and an office squash match the night before.

Around two-thirds of his lunches are spent in the office, browsing the internet and catching up on emails over a sandwich.

Today is different, though, because he has to dash out to buy a gift for his son Jakub's 12th birthday.

Back at the office, he explains - while munching his way through a cold salad - how miffed he gets at the 'trainees in Mercedes' tag.

Ironically, trainees working in the directorate-general for health and consumer protection used to be based in the offices (the floor above Byrne) which his cabinet now occupies.

But he still thinks the description is unfair, saying: "I realize the scale of my activities will be limited until the new Commission takes up office, but it's still a ridiculous portrayal."

The afternoon is taken up with another two, 45-minute meetings, one with Andrew Witty, president of GlaxoSmithKlein, in which AIDS takes up most of the discussion, the other with the Czech general secretary of the Association of European Automobile Manufacturers.

As with several other commissioners, Telicka is currently the subject of heavy industry lobbying over an upcoming Commission proposal on new design protection for car spare parts.

A short coffee break allows Telicka to give his verdict on the job so far: "I've been dealing with the Commission for 15 years and I can tell you it's very different from the inside than the outside.

"I had mixed feelings about leaving my last job and this place can be a bit bureaucratic, but it's also far more professional and dynamic than many people think."

Despite taking three days off work to prepare for it, he admits to still being nervous when he recently appeared before a confirmation hearing at the European Parliament.

He can expect a far tougher grilling, however, when he goes before MEPs again in September, if he is given a full mandate by the Czech government.

A courtesy call from Roman Shpek, Ukrainian ambassador to the EU, is his fourth and final meeting, but his working day is far from over.

There is a mountain of correspondence still to deal with, calls to return, official papers to pore over and tomorrow's agenda (a trip to Wachau in Austria for a weekend conference) still to finalize.

And that's not to mention trips this month to Warsaw, Budapest and Oxford to organize, so the planned family cycling holiday in August must seem a long way off.

Normally, it's going on for 9pm by the time he gets home, but tonight he's away by 7.30pm…the small matter of a family birthday party awaits.

Article examines the role of the 'shadow' Commissioners from the 'new' Member States by spending a day with Pavel Telicka, the Czech Republic's new Commissioner, who is shadowing David Byrne, European Commissioner for Health and Consumer Protection, until the current Commission ends its term in office on 31 October 2004.

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