Twenty-five nations all shopping for the best deal they can get in the Euro-market

Date: 25/09/1997

By Mark Turner

HISTORY students in the 21st century will probably skip school when it comes to 'EU enlargement' lessons.

Next to 'The Yugoslav War' or 'The Russian Mafia', the period from 1994 (when Hungary applied to join the EU) to 2014 (by which time the first new members are likely to be fully integrated into Union structures) will appear - on the surface - difficult and dull by comparison.

But the two or three stalwarts that stick throughout the course will find themselves learning more about international politics than any of their less diligent peers.

For while the next decade of negotiations and administrative reform will rarely capture the public's imagination, the run-up to eastern enlargement will provide a perfect case study of early third-millennium politics.

Consider the ingredients. In the blue and yellow corner stands a confused alliance of 15 states which boasts interdependence but is still beset by the legacy of rampant nationalism.

Among its number are some of the richest industrial powerhouses in the world, desperate to gain tariff-free access to other markets while paying as little compensation as possible for the privilege. Beside them rank nations little richer than the most advanced of the east Europeans, fearful that the arrival of a new baby in the family will mean the end of their special privileges.

All are weighed down by an out-of-date Common Agricultural Policy and profound regional wealth disparities. None is prepared to sacrifice its national interests for the greater European good.

Just out of the red corner are ten shell-shocked democracies, who see membership of the Union as the golden key to economic and political reconstruction.

But while full of long-term potential, they promise in the short term to be a severe drain on the alliance's collective wealth, an administrative nightmare when it comes to implementing its rules and a severe competitive threat to their neighbours.

In the referee's chair sits a European Commission in charge of ensuring the implementation of a huge web of EU laws which - should the candidates win no derogations or transition periods - could keep the new democracies out of the Union for at least another ten years.

On the surface, all the participants are full of enthusiasm for the forthcoming decade, proclaiming the end of continental divisions and welcoming the dawn of a new era of prosperity. But the true picture is a far cry from the harmonious image that the architects of Europe would like to project.

For all the late-20th century rhetoric about free trade, global markets and making the common pot bigger, they are reluctant to put the philosophy into practice unless it suits them. Charity still begins at home.

As a result, the enlargement of the European Union is not about a glorious common endeavour. It is about each participating country getting the best possible deal for its people, while paying selective lip service to the ideal of interdependency.

With that in mind, it is no surprise that the battles behind the scenes have already started.

The failure of the June Amsterdam summit to reach any viable compromise on EU institutional reform was only the first demonstration of the vastly different directions in which the Union's existing members are pulling.

Months before the start of accession talks, budgetary and institutional conflict among the EU-15 is threatening to derail the enlargement process before it begins.

On the other side of the fence, the leading applicants are making it absolutely clear that they will not join any organisation if it threatens their personal well-being: note the no-nonsense rhetoric emerging from Poland.

None denies that enlargement could produce a win-win scenario. A giant market of 450 million people - assuming it works as designed - is a perfect fertiliser for international trade and economic growth.

As corporate giants gain new customers and become more competitive, previously destitute economies will benefit from cash injections, modern employment and a viable future. Common political strategies will also engender collective security and a bloc of 25 countries will have enormous weight in the global balance of power.

But all fear that if things go wrong, the resulting deal could be one-sided and against their interests.

Furthermore, the size of the impending struggle and its likely impact on ordinary citizens is only just beginning to be realised. It will not be much compensation for an out-of-work Portuguese farmer to know that the average EU wage has increased due to efficiency-savings arising from larger scale operations. Carmakers in Germany will hardly take job losses lying down in the knowledge that their Polish competitors are improving European competitiveness.

In eastern Europe, faced with the costs of implementing EU environmental laws or the spectre of industrial collapse, people are similarly asking what is really in it for them. As the real negotiations begin, one inevitable question will emerge. Is the whole exercise actually worth it? Is full EU membership really necessary to foster stability and growth in the East?

So far, beyond the sound bites, there has been little concrete proof that it is. Unless governments can convince their citizens that a 25-member Union would really be a better place to be, both East and West could well reject enlargement when the question goes to referenda or national parliaments for ratification.

That would be even more disastrous than nothing at all, erecting a new, 'virtual' Berlin wall less than two decades after the original came down.

Hopefully, when it comes down to it, the Union and its applicants will find a way around the obstacles which are strewn along the road to enlargement and reach a happy modus vivendi for the next few decades.

For all its obvious pitfalls, the peaceful reunification of Europe after the upheavals of the 20th century would be perhaps the best present our children could hope for.

But just because enlargement is a laudable goal, that does not mean that it is destined to be achieved. Europe's politicians may yet find that they have bitten off a lot more than they can chew.