Commission-designate gathers on the castle lawn for a brave new dawn

It was a perfect sort of day in an Orwellian, New Model Army, Gucci kind of way

It was a perfect sort of day in an Orwellian, New Model Army, Gucci kind of way. The sort of day new eras begin with, in fiction at least.

A brilliant sun shone down on Saturday on the perfect garden of the Hotel Solhof as the squeaky clean, scrubbed and polished Commission-designate gathered on the castle lawn, the lines in designer trousers immaculately pressed, a splash of colour from the women.

"When I accepted the job of President, I promised to launch a new era of change in the Commission. Today, in the first meeting, we made important progress in this direction," the President-designate, Mr Romano Prodi, told a news conference.

"Four legs good, two legs bad" was the message. The past is another place, the revolution initiated by Comrade Prodi will be utterly different, his New Model spokesmen assured the gathered journalists.

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Look, they said in evidence of historic changes afoot, we have even purged the entire old spokesperson service (with the possible exception of Mr Gerry Kiely in agriculture, who is "indispensable").

"Shooting the messenger," muttered one scribe, clearly off message. This was not the place for those who thought that all had not been bad in the old days, although Mr Neil Kinnock did speak more realistically of his reform challenge. "The problem is there have been some occasions when normal standards have not been adhered to. My motto must be to make the best typical."

But, just in case we thought the surroundings might smack of ostentation, one NM spokesman was able to assure The Irish Times that the whole occasion had cost as little as £6,000 for the overnight accommodation, meals and facilities. Bread and water, clearly.

"Revolutions are always verbose," Trotsky once remarked with unusual self-deprecation, and the Prodi one no less. Fifty pages of new codes of conducts for commissioners, their staffs, and even spouses were handed out to the press.

Even the after-life of Commissioners will be regulated - life after the Commission, that is - so there will be no more Bangemans. An ethics committee will vet any sensitive appointments for a year after they leave their posts.

In the spirit of frugality which is supposed to be a hallmark of the new regime, trips on Concorde are off, unless a Commissioner is brave enough to go and ask President Prodi's special permission. A new expenses' code rules that "where accommodation comprises a suite, the reasons why this was considered necessary must be given in the statement of expenses".

If a three-day leave is taken in conjunction with Commission missions, half of the cost of the return flight is payable by the Commissioner.

There are pages of dos and don'ts. Regular columns by Commissioners are out but giving courses free "in the interests of European integration" are allowed. Royalties from books must be paid to charities. However, Commissioners may serve in honorary capacities in arts or cultural organisations or political parties and trade unions as long as it does not compromise their work.

They must make public declarations of their and their spouses' financial interests and can only receive gifts worth less than £150.

There were new, meritocratic rules on promotions to senior posts, in theory ending national quotas and using outside experts to vet applicants, and tighter rules on appointing smaller cabinets, increasing the international representation in each cabinet to at least three nationalities.

Just as importantly, guidelines clearly set out the limits of cabinet members' powers - strictly advisory, while implementation is the responsibility of officials in the directorates general.

New Amsterdam Treaty powers for the president to reshuffle his team are also incorporated in the rules. Each member of the new Commission has also give an undertaking to Mr Prodi to resign if asked to do so in extremis.

Ireland's new man, Mr David Byrne, was there too and enjoying the occasion . . . and why not, it was pure theatre.

"The citizens of Europe are looking to us to put things right," he said on message.

Reflecting on the enormity and importance of his task in rebuilding confidence between the public and authorities on issues like food safety, Mr Byrne admits to being daunted. He cites the appropriateness of Juvenal's 2,000-year aphorism - mens sana in corpore sano - as we face into the new millennium. "Juvenal wouldn't recognise the world we live in, but he would recognise each one of us as human beings and the needs we have for a healthy mind, body and food."

He acknowledges that he may face tough questioning at the parliamentary hearings in September but rejects any suggestion that he lacks political experience.

Such experience should not simply be measured in parliamentary terms, he argues, recalling years of backroom advice to the Taoiseach and party and pointing to the increasing role of the Attorney General in Cabinet as an adviser to all Government departments. He confesses to having been well and truly "bitten by the political bug".

Meanwhile, journalists will be hoping the Commissioners don't take too literally the injunction on them not to discuss what goes on inside Commission meetings. I mean, you can go just too far with this New Era.