Bongo Berlusconi
March 21, 2014
I met Silvio Berlusconi twice. Though it is fairer to say that I saw him twice since an army of bodyguards assured our distance. At least at the first occasion. Unfortunately, that wasn’t at one of those Bongo Bongo parties, but during less exciting gatherings in Brussels. The big Berlusconi, though the word ‘big’ applied more to show than to size…
The first time was during Italian EU Presidency. BusinessEurope organised an event in the Hilton, Boulevard de Waterloo. Berlusconi was invited as keynote speaker. The hotel was not fit to host a popstar of this magnitude, Italian-style chaos all around. When he finally arrived, fashionably late of course, it felt as if Madonna entered, surrounded by security, paparazzi and groupies. For a minute, I suspected they were hired by the Italian Government, to make the Emperor look bigger… Forza Italia! We, the people, were there only to applaud the Big Maestro, hired to serve as figurants.
In advance to EU Summits in Brussels, it is common practice to organise a so-called trialogue where Council Presidency, Commission and social partners discuss socio-economic issues. These meetings tend to be rather predictable. Except that one time under French Presidency, that must have been in 2008, opposite of a dull moment…
BusinessEurope had a French president at the time of the Council. The elegant Ernest-Antoine Seillière led the employers’ delegation, chaired by French President Jacques Chirac. President Seillière was the man behind the name change from UNICE to BusinessEurope. His management style was refreshing, modern Anglo-Saxon. He imposed a one-language policy: English. For a Frenchman this was exceptional, for the organisation it was quite a revolution. And the businessman was overly consistent. When President Chirac gave him the floor, in French of course, Seillière started by saying: ‘merci, Monsieur le Président’, and switched directly to English, without a blink.
Chirac had never experienced this before, a Frenchman addressing him in English during an official meeting. The President interrupted the ‘patron des patrons’ after a few seconds. He reminded Seillière of his nationality, stated that La Republique held La Présidence and threatened: you shall address me in French or I will leave this room.
Seillière listened attentively to his President but did not budge. Like nothing happened, he went on, in impeccable English. Chirac was infuriated and stalked out of the room, followed by his aides. Seillière continued his speech – I dare to guess – with a tiny smile on his face. Through this incident, he guaranteed that his club, with the new name, made it to the front pages the next day. This way, even a stuffy thing as an EU trialogue became a sexy media item. Speaking of communication skills…
One time I had the chance to attend a trialogue. That was under Italian Presidency and the second time I saw Berlusconi. The distance was much shorter. Romano Prodi was President of the European Commission, to make matters more salient. Prodi and Berlusconi couldn’t stand each other and made no effort to hide this, really. The two leaders sat opposite to each other, as protocol requires, but did not look nor speak to each other. Each sentence was formulated in the third person, whilst the other was then carefully admiring the ceiling. Temperature in the room was dropping well below zero. Two little boys who did not want to play with each other. As if they had stolen one another’s toys and had to say ‘sorry’, but could not get it out. A surrealistic scene.
To relief tension, I went out to wash my hands during a break. When I found the men’s room on the VIP floor of the Justus Lipsius building, I was hoping to be alone for a few minutes. At that moment the door swung open. I blocked, being one of those guys having trouble to perform when others stand next to me. Annoyed, I glanced at the troublemaker on my left, trying to force him with my eyes to go elsewhere. I looked again, or down, so to say. It was him, He stood next to me! The big Berlusconi, without bodyguards or cameras. In a vulnerable position. Bingo! Or rather, Bongo!
I couldn’t resist, it was stronger than myself. Only for a second. The Prime Minister wasn’t paying attention. He was probably planning to play his next trick on Prodi. He washed his hands and left. I could not ‘deliver’ anymore and went back to the Roman battlefield, without immediate result, although, that wasn’t true. I was happy, the tension was gone. I almost burst into laughter looking at the big guys fighting. The ”who has the biggest” game. One thought popped up in my mind: size does matter!
From: Het oliemannetje, by Wytze Russchen, 266 pages, published by Conserve, ISBN 978 90 5429 363 7, € 19,99, out on 7 April 2014, www.conserven.nl.
Author : Wytze RusschenComments
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Wytze,
Entertaining!
A detail: here below, you mean that Chirac was chairing the Council, but don’t quite express that, at least in the English translation. Or is it a hint toward Chirac’s closenes to industry? 🙂
“BusinessEurope had a French president at the time of the Council. The elegant Ernest-Antoine Seillière led the employers’ delegation, chaired by French President Jacques Chirac. “