Every so often, a gap appears to open up in Europe, and equally often, Britain is tempted to leap into it. The gap opens between France and Germany, the co-champions of European unity. This time, it appears to have widened into a chasm, so it is only natural that Tony Blair should want to peer down there and see what may be in it for Britain. It may be fortuitous timing that has taken the PM first to Berlin and then to the cosy wine-growing retreat of Cahors, in south-west France, in the space of less than two weeks; but if this was Blair attempting to leap in, then beware, Prime Minister: Britain wins no medals at this game.
Look back a bit. When Gerhard Schroder, a supple Social Democrat who shares Blair's liberal economic leanings, was elected German chancellor two years ago, there was immediate talk of an uncoupling of the Franco-German alliance, a well-tested partnership that has shaped European integration all along. The way was open for Britain to expand Europe's top duo into a triumvirate. And, sure enough, the new chancellor did toy for a while with the idea of downgrading the tight relationship with France. But Blair's Third Way sermonising, plus his opaqueness on the euro, eventually began to grate, and the Germans turned back to the French as more dependable European soulmates.
Now it is France that looks ripe for picking by the Brits. The turn-about occurred in December on the French Riviera. The EU summit in Nice ended in a Franco-German bust-up, a split over power and status that has injured the feelings of the two protagonists. The disagreement has revealed deep strains between the pair, so that France's gut position on Europe comes out looking less like Germany's and more like Britain's. (Yes, we do have a gut position: caution underpinned by mistrust.)
While Europe's chief architects have set about repairing the damage in past days, subjecting each other to searching analysis over an old pals' meal of sauerkraut in Alsace, the rift has much to do with personalities. Schroder and his uninhibited foreign minister, Joschka Fischer, still hugely popular in Germany despite having his revolutionary Sixties youth blow up in his ministerial face, have become pressing federalists. Schroder, once diffident about Europe, now beats the drum for a European constitution that would formally lay out governing powers, in much the same way as the US constitution determines the play of power between the American states and the federal government.
The French president, Jacques Chirac, and the prime minister, Lionel Jospin, both Eurosceptics in their day, have staunchly rallied to Europe while in office. But neither has much in common with the oh-so-supple Schroder. Franco-German personal chemistry is there none. More important, the French blame the chancellor for what they now see as the fiasco of Nice, a power-bargaining session that France organised to streamline EU institutions before a host of eastern European countries gain membership.
Was Schroder justified in claiming more EU institutional weight for his country than has France - or, indeed, Britain? Well, the refreshing thing about the chancellor is that he is unburdened by heavy German complexes. Moreover, democracy requires that population size should affect who has more and who less say in Europe - and incontestably, Germany's population is almost 20 per cent bigger than France's. Yet the French were stunned that Schroder insisted on extra voting weight for Germany in the Nice treaty, and were sick at having to concede to him. They preferred the old system of parity with Germany, which translated into French diplomatic language as meaning "France holds the reins of political power".
Now that Nice has changed all this, Schroder's new appeals for deeper integration and less intergovernmental jousting, which might suggest a laudable desire to sink German interests into those of the union, are seen by the French as a strategy to grab sole charge of the driving wheel.
Haven't we heard this somewhere before? However, Britain can now identify not so much with France's misplaced anguish as with its current blank over Europe's final destination. Like Blair, the two French leaders profess to prefer a "Europe of nation states" (that is, an intergovernmental union) to the federal ideas expounded by Schroder. However, behind this curtain, the French will admit that they just don't really know any longer what kind of Europe they want.
Now to Blair. Despite being in step with Schroder on EU enlargement into eastern Europe, Blair will be permitting himself some intense fellow feelings with Chirac and Jospin. For their part, the French continue to admire Blair. But when moved by the old temptation to jump, the PM should not read too much into French camaraderie.
The current Franco-German conflict is a major one by their standards, but both are turning to therapy, not divorce. With this pair, it is extraordinary what a dish of sauerkraut will do. You won't see a reconciliation more forced than the one Schroder and his distraught French partners put on in Alsace. They had committed "errors", they agreed. "Equal rights and duties" would continue to drive their relationship. And yes, they shared "a common vision" after all. In case anyone doubted this, from now on, they would be meeting with the frequency of lovers (every six weeks or so) to work on that vision.
What emerges sharp and clear from their bout of mutual exasperation is that France and Germany continue to recognise there is no alternative to their joint leadership in Europe. Should Britain wish to jump in with them, or between them, she would need to prove that she is not what they think she is - a persistent obstructor loath to use the same money as those she lives with. Are you ready, Blair?
