Trust and Good Feelings At The Hague

As she raised her champagne glass, Queen Juliana of The Netherlands surveyed the guests seated around her palace dinner table: the President of France, the Chancellor of West Germany and the Premiers of Italy, Belgium, Luxembourg and her own country. Said the Queen in a simple toast: "I wish you success at this meeting." Rising in his turn, Juliana's consort Prince Bernhard added sternly: "That, gentlemen, is a royal order."

Judging from the communiques and comments that emerged from last week's Common Market summit meeting at The Hague, the royal order was scrupulously obeyed. During the two-day session, a new order for Europe began to take shape. In return for the continuation of sizable agricultural subsidies, French President Georges Pompidou at last agreed to negotiations leading to the admission of new members, most notably Britain.

Uncommon Confrontation. To be sure, Pompidou's concession was surrounded by a tangle of verbal barbed wire. His opening statement was studded with the sort of oblique warnings about British entry that other members had heard repeatedly from France during the days of Charles de Gaulle. West Germany's Willy Brandt, who emerged from last week's summit as spokesman for the Six, supplanting his French counterpart, firmly rebuffed the old position. "The German Parliament and public expect me to return from this conference with concrete arrangements regarding the Community's enlargement," Brandt said determinedly. The French, he continued, should "respond to our clear will."

During Queen Juliana's dinner at Huis ten Bosch ("House in the Woods") palace outside The Hague, Pompidou drew Brandt aside. As the two strolled for half an hour up and down the elegant chinoiserie rooms, cognac glasses in hand, Pompidou gave his word that France would agree to negotiations with Britain. Fearful that France's ardent Gaullists would attack him for that concession, however, Pompidou adamantly refused to specify a date for negotiations to begin. In the 13th-century Hall of Knights where the sessions were held, this refusal led to an uncommon confrontation. Pressed by Dutch Foreign Minister Joseph Luns to stipulate a date, Pompidou finally growled: "Am I to understand that the Dutch Foreign Minister does not trust the word of the President of France?"

"The Dutch Foreign Minister trusts the President of France," Luns hastily assured him. "Everyone in this room trusts the President of France. But we have our public opinion to consider."

The final communique made no mention of a date. Privately, however, the French representatives set the end of June as the deadline for talks to begin with Britain (as well as Ireland, Denmark and Norway, the other three nations that have applied for Common Market membership). Almost overlooked in the lively sparring over a timetable for British entry was a remarkable change in the French attitude toward the Market. The French,President urged a six-point program calling for "harmonized" foreign policies, mutual technological development and a monetary policy that would include a Common Market central bank for the gold and currency reserves of all its members. Pompidou's ambitious proposals are by no means likely to be realized in the near future, but they nevertheless represent a dramatic reversal of previous French policy. The change was enthusiastically welcomed by France's five partners. "We all have the good feeling," said West German Foreign Minister Walter Scheel, "that the Common Market can now overcome its stagnation and resume a more dynamic development."

Bigger Grocery Bills. Though many Britons, after eight long years of waiting, have changed their minds about joining the Common Market, Harold Wilson's government welcomed the outcome of last week's summit. The Hague meeting, however, did nothing to ease the concern of Britons that membership in the Market would sharply raise grocery bills as a result of farm supports and import levies. Aware that Britain might be called upon to pay as much as 50% of the Market's total farm subsidies for a few years, Wilson sought in the House of Commons last week to stifle what he described as "excessive optimism in this matter." Said the Prime Minister: "If the terms involve too high a price, I think all of us agree that it would be wrong to accept them." London's Sunday Express put the thought somewhat more bluntly with a cartoon showing a French diner sitting down to a meal in a restaurant. "Do you want to pay for the Frenchman's lunch?" asked the story that followed.

For a while, Britain may have to do just that. Before negotiations begin, the country must decide whether it is willing to foot the bill in exchange for long-term gains as a partner in a united Europe. That the decision lies with London this time rather than Paris, however, is a measure of how far the Common Market has progressed.

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