A funny story about a parsimonious politician used to do the rounds during the fledgling years of the European Parliament in bygone days when air travel was a glamorous, all-frills affair. No name will be mentioned as it may be apocryphal, though nonetheless believable. According to this story, visitors to the home of a certain teetotal MEP were only ever offered a glass of champagne by way of alcoholic refreshment. Legend had it that the politician had amassed an Aladdin’s cave of single-serving bottles of bubbly, having stashed away the complimentary drinks served on his regular flights to and from Brussels.
This is not an anecdote about corruption, for it is small beer compared to the €1.5 million worth of suspected cash inducements Belgian police seized in Brussels last week, but it is an illustration of the adage that where there’s money, there’s an appetite for more. MEPs are paid a basic after-tax salary of €7,317 a month, plus a daily subsistence allowance, monthly administration expenses, health insurance, pension and end-of-term allowances.
The extravagant income potential for the EU’s political class is as alluring a flytrap for someone open to entertaining a bribe as is a key left dangling from the ignition to a car thief. This is not to say that everyone who seeks election to the EU is corruptible but only that, for anyone so inclined, it is temptation incarnate. Therefore, it is imperative that the institutional architecture be rigorously reinforced against it.
Eva Kaili, a Greek MEP and one of the European Parliament’s abundant complement of 14 vice-presidents, is among four people accused of corruption, participation in a criminal conspiracy and money laundering in connection with alleged interference by a foreign power, namely Qatar. Even before her arrest last week, she had been exhibiting questionable behaviour.
After the Qatari authorities blocked a visit to the country by a European parliamentary delegation in the autumn, Kaili turned up in the kingdom in October on a two-day trip that included a meeting with the head of state, Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani. Back in Brussels, she pushed for a provision entitling Qatari citizens to enter the EU without visa requirements and attended a meeting of the home affairs parliamentary committee convened to discuss the proposal, despite not being a committee member. That female Qataris aged under 25 require permission from a male guardian to travel abroad seemed neither here nor there to her. She has also eulogised labour standards in the Gulf state, where it is estimated that more than 6,500 migrant workers have died in the 10 years since the country won the right to host this year’s World Cup.
Meanwhile, the former television newscaster was loading her social media output with images of herself and Francesco Giorgi, her Italian partner and co-accused, living a champagne life – skiing on Mont Blanc, drinking cocktails in Menorca, snorkelling in the Aegean, touring mosques in Oman and unwinding on Richard Branson’s private Necker island. Last month, she opened her own property development company in an upmarket suburb of Athens.
After returning from Doha, Kaili declared that critics of Qatar “accused everyone that talks to them, or engages, of corruption”. Three weeks later, she was arrested following an investigation by Belgium’s intelligence service. Since then, other MEPs have said she had lobbied them in Qatar’s interests. So why did they wait until she was charged before they spoke up and why did it fall to Belgium’s police force to crack the case at the nexus of EU control?
According to news reports, Morocco is also suspected of making payments to EU politicians, and Irish MEP Barry Andrews has said it would be naive to think this is the only bribery scandal that has afflicted the parliament. In fact, we know it is not.
In March 2011, a Sunday Times undercover sting exposed four MEPs agreeing to accept payments in return for favours, including proposing amendments in parliament using wording written for them by lobbyists. One of the four, Ernst Strasser, a former interior minister in Austria, was subsequently convicted and imprisoned for secretly working as a lobbyist while he was an MEP. The exposé caused ructions in Brussels, and a new anti-corruption code was drawn up for the parliament.
Now here we are, almost 12 years later, with five MEPs from Greece, Italy and Belgium reported to be suspects in the Qatari-linked investigation, and still there is no requirement for MEPs to declare all their meetings with representatives of third-state governments. It turns out that the EU, which monitors public ethics standards in its member countries, is one of the weakest links in the bloc’s integrity.
In this country, it may be tempting to dismiss the scandal as having nothing to do with us, but its repercussions extend beyond territorial frontiers. One casualty is the charitable sector. Individuals connected with two non-governmental organisations are key figures in what is unfolding. One is a pro-democracy outfit named No Peace Without Justice. The other is the aptly named Fight Impunity, a non-profit organisation founded by former MEP Pier Antonio Panzeri. Last year, Belgian police found €700,000 in €50 notes when they entered his Brussels home.
Roberta Metsola, the parliament president, has said “malign actors linked to autocratic third countries have allegedly weaponised NGOs” and other sectors. It’s a view many upstanding NGOs will also hold with a sinking heart.
The biggest casualty, however, is the EU itself. The bribery scandal is grist to the conspiracy theory mill. The mantra “told you so” is already reverberating in Brexiteer and Irexiteer circles.
In her successful pitch to become the president of the European Commission, Ursula von der Leyen promised to tighten up disclosure rules. To date, that promise has gone unfulfilled. When she addressed the Oireachtas this month with large dollops of flattery, she described Ireland as a “proud country of proud Europeans”. But pride comes before a fall. After last week’s revelations in Brussels, the EU and its lavishly remunerated politicians stand on shakier ground.