Among the many good deeds for which the Pope’s admirers praised
him yesterday, on the 25th anniversary of his election, the
strangest to American ears must have been his support for the
European Union. Surely this titanic crusader for peace and freedom
hasn’t had the time to waste on a bunch of politicians in Brussels?
In fact, John Paul II has consistently backed European integration
since well before coming to the throne of St. Peter.
The Vatican’s enthusiasm for the EU is such that at least one
European politician has characterized the whole thing as a
popish plot. Amusing as it would be to believe this, I’m afraid
that the answer is much simpler: John Paul thinks that
supranational governance fosters peace. But it must be said that
the people who run the EU do behave a lot like the College of
Cardinals, sealed into the Sistine Chapel as they negotiate a papal
election and bound by a perpetual vow of silence about their
dealings.
While the proceedings of the largely ineffectual European
Parliament are public, the really consequential meetings — of the
European Commission in Brussels, and of the national governments in
the Council of Ministers — are almost all held behind closed
doors. That is supposed to change, finally, according to an
announcement earlier this month. But so far the curtains have yet
to part.
The EU’s leaders expect citizens to accept their authority on
faith. They hide behind arcane concepts, like the distinction
between “supranational” and “intergovernmental,” that allow them to
act outside the scrutiny of those they are supposed to serve.
The result is that most Europeans know as little about the EU as
they do about the church — which in today’s secular Europe is
saying a lot. Hardly anyone can tell the difference between the
Council of Europe and the European Council, or identify the Three
Pillars of the European Union. It’s no wonder that voter turnout
for elections to the European Parliament is far lower than for
national races.
Europe’s leaders have a chance to fix this, if they have the
courage. So far, only seven of the 25 countries that must ratify
the proposed European constitution have announced national
referenda on this monumental decision. Some governments apparently
fear that their electorates might veto their signatures. They
remember that French voters approved the Treaty of Maastricht
(which established the EU) by only a hairsbreadth majority, and
that the Irish actually rejected the Treaty of Nice (which set the
terms for enlargement) the first time they voted on it.
Going over the people’s heads is therefore tempting, but it is
also dangerous. In the future, voters alienated from a constitution
and a union that they did not choose will be naturally receptive to
arguments that blame everything on the bogey of an all-powerful
Brussels. But oh, reply the Europhiles, by then it will be too
late. Maybe so. Or maybe we can’t imagine what a mess this all is
leading to.
Every European should be able to vote on the constitution. Let
its proponents make their arguments in terms that a majority can
understand. If they succeed, they’ll make the EU incomparably
stronger. If they fail, they’ll learn a salutary lesson in
humility. Now it’s time for the governors of Europe to show some
faith in the governed.
