The Italian Exception

The crowning achievement of this week's gathering of European leaders at the Royal Castle of Laeken in Brussels was supposed to be the launch of an ambitious project to deepen the European Union's democratic legitimacy. The Belgian hosts wanted Laeken to quell the disdain of the average E.U. citizen who, as the Belgians acknowledged in a draft declaration, "feels that deals are all too often cut in smoke-filled rooms, out of sight, away from proper democratic scrutiny."

Well, turn on the ventilators and hold your nose. Instead of noble musings on the future of Europe, Laeken will likely be dominated by an unseemly backroom scrap between Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi and the leaders of the E.U.'s 14 other member states. His government scotched the E.U.'s attempts to nail down details of an international arrest warrant before this week's meeting. Now Berlusconi will have to face his fellow government leaders at Laeken over the issue.

In the wake of Sept. 11, the Belgian government and the European Commission have pressed hard for measures to streamline judicial cooperation within the E.U., with the international arrest warrant as the keystone. The idea is to abolish cumbersome extradition proceedings among E.U. member states for 32 serious crimes, from terrorism and murder to money laundering and fraud. Big differences in judicial procedures and constitutional issues among members made for delicate negotiations, but most were finessed. The measure is supposed to kick in at the beginning of 2004, but member states can apply it retroactively.

But the agreement requires unanimity. With all the details sewn up, Italy balked at the list of crimes. Rome insisted that international warrants should not pertain to matters like fraud and money laundering. After a phone call to Rome, Italian Justice Minister Roberto Castelli declared he wouldn't budge. His Belgian counterpart Marc Verwilghen said that since 14 member states had agreed, "I can't tinker with the agreement just to satisfy Italy."

Berlusconi's refusal to sign on to the measure was much less a mystery in Italy, where the overhaul of judicial policy has been a virtual obsession of the billionaire media magnate since his election last spring. Opponents accuse the Prime Minister of self-interest. La Repubblica columnist Antonio Polito wrote that Italy's blockage of the international arrest warrant "confirms all the personal suspicions that other leaders and the foreign press have had about [Berlusconi]: that he will battle without quarter — with Italy's good name on the line — to defend those accused of corruption, money laundering and fraud from facing an arrest ordered by a foreign judge." Spanish judge Baltasar Garzón is investigating alleged tax evasion by Berlusconi's holding company, Fininvest, and a Spanish TV station, Telecino. The judge agreed last month not to pursue charges against Berlusconi while he is in office, but the case could resurface later.

Unless a deal is brokered before Friday, it will fall to the leaders in Laeken to bring Berlusconi around. He has signaled his intent to deal. The E.U. will be deciding where to put the new European Food Authority. Finland, which currently hosts no E.U. institutions, wants it in Helsinki, but Italy is pushing hard for Parma. A high-level delegation came to Brussels last week to make Parma's case at a press conference replete with great rounds of parmigiano cheese and heaps of prosciutto. At Laeken Berlusconi may add less delicate fare to tip the scale for Parma.

And then there's that democracy thing. The leaders at Laeken will launch a European convention, composed of parliamentarians and government representatives, and charge it with finding ways to make the E.U. more efficient and transparent. The recommendations will be considered by member states when they start negotiations in 2003 on institutional reform and a simplified, constitution-like Basic Treaty. To chair the convention, Italy favors ex-Prime Minister Giuliano Amato over other candidates, such as former French President Valéry Giscard d'Estaing. Amato is a popular choice on his merits, but he could become yet another unwitting ingredient in a Berlusconi sausage.

European leaders are no strangers to the often unsavory art of the deal. But they won't relish giving their citizens such a glimpse into the E.U.'s kitchen — especially when the point was to make the Union more palatable.