ALTERNATIVE VIEW:As EU leaders struggle to come to terms with the No vote, others have more important issues, writes Michael Parsons.
'WHERE THE hell is McCreevy?" wondered Peter Mandelson, "he's never on time".
The last stragglers were settling into their soft leather seats in Room 101 of the Berlaymont building on the Rue de la Loi in central Brussels. As the silent digital clock indicated 15.00h Central European Time, president José Manuel Barroso called the attendance to order for the start of a special meeting of the European Commission. It was to be their final gathering before the holidays.
Two of the chairs were empty. Barroso announced that he had received "regrets" from the Energy Commissioner Andris Piebalgs who was en route to Saudi Arabia for a summit about oil prices and from Internal Market and Services Commissioner Charlie McCreevy, who had "gone to Ireland to be with an elderly grand-aunt who is on her deathbed".
"Oh how very sad," interjected the nice Agriculture Commissioner, the great Dane Mariann Fischer Boel.
"Poor Charlie," she said, "I know he is very close to that old lady. I remember him telling me that she lives all alone in a little farmhouse near Galway. And he goes to see her every year at this time. He's such a thoughtful man! I think we should send some flowers, yes?"
"Does everyone agree?" asked Barroso. Mandelson was sorely tempted to object. He had just remembered something.
There had been a piece in the Guardian this very morning about a famous race meeting at Bally-somewhere-or-other in Galway. "Why, of course", he realised, "he's gone skiving off to the gee-gees". The British Commissioner wanted to scream: "This is a farce. I know exactly where he is." But he held his tongue. Even he accepted that it was bad form to question the veracity of a fellow commissioner. "But really," he thought, "it is quite monstrous. Didn't the fellow do enough damage during the referendum by admitting that only a fool could read the Lisbon Treaty?" And his chauffeur had told him that he had seen the dashing Irishman at "Le Vagabonde", a downtown Brussels club notorious for its Texas Hold 'Em tournaments, on the night the terrible result of the vote had come in.
"That's agreed, then," said Barroso signalling to an usher that he should make the necessary arrangements. "Now, let's get down to business. Ladies and gentlemen, I will now circulate the Solemn Declaration which we will present to Ireland ahead of the second referendum on the Lisbon Treaty. Please note that this document is marked 'Top Secret'. You should not disclose its contents to anyone.
"I'd like to thank Margot for drawing this up," he said, smiling appreciatively at the lady to his right-hand side. Margot Wallström, the commission vice-president with responsibility for Communication Strategy, had drawn up the document in consultation with President Sarkozy and Chancellor Merkel. Barroso now asked her to address the meeting.
Wallström spoke in English with just a hint of her Swedish accent. "Colleagues," she said, "as you know the Irish Government has no clue how to proceed. So we conducted some private polling and it appears the main reason the Irish voted No was that people feared losing influence if they did not have a commissioner to keep an eye on their national interest.
"Of course there are some other matters," she continued, "such as taxation, neutrality, conscription and abortion - but they are really matters of misconception. However, the main issue is that the people of Ireland do not want important matters decided without having a commissioner present. But we have a solution and the good news is that the legal service has confirmed that the Lisbon Treaty will not have to be amended."
She paused and took a sip of Perrier before continuing to outline the contents of the secret memorandum.
"Firstly", she said . . .
At the same moment, far, far away in Ballybrit, McCreevy crushed the stub of a fat Cuban cigar beneath the heel of a Bally calfskin loafer and strolled contentedly into the Guinness & Oyster bar in a tent behind the Killanin Stand. "Bertie!", he cried, "how's it goin'?"
"Ah, me oul segocia," said the former taoiseach and warmly shook the hand of his erstwhile colleague. "Are you finished-up over in Brussels for the summer already?" asked Ahern.
"Ah sure, you know yourself," said McCreevy, "it's dead as a doornail over there. Tell us, what do you fancy in the 7 o'clock?"