Bunga Berlusconi
May 23, 2016
I have met Silvio Berlusconi twice. Well, met, every time there were so many bodyguards around him that it is better to say that I have seen him twice. Except for that second time, no, no sensation, it was not during one of those infamous bunga bunga-parties. The great Berlusconi. Although great was a big word.
The first time was at a respectful distance. BUSINESSEUROPE had organised a so called Competiveness Day during the presidency of Italy of the EU. This event had to highlight the interests of European businesses and took place at the former Hilton hotel at Avenue de Waterloo in Brussels. Prime Minister Berlusconi, who was also President of the rotating European Council, was guest of honour and would deliver a speech.
When he finally arrived, following good Italian custom being way too late, it looked as if Madonna had arrived at the Hilton. I had never seen so many bodyguards, obtrusive autograph hunters and camera crews together and for a moment I thought that the Italian government had paid them all to serve as extras in a big Italian Sun-king game.
How fantastic our Silvio was… Forza Italia! Just like an Italian car, beautiful from the outside, but highly unpractical when you are driving it. Lots of bark, but little bite, however, with PR that suited a multi-billionaire.
Being a social partner, BUSINESSEUROPE could send some delegation representatives to European summits. During the so called ‘trialogue’, the European Council, the European Commission and the social partners would discuss current socio-economic issues. Usually pretty boring stuff, and often mandatory as well. Except that one time when the French were chairing. Unfortunately, I was not a spokesperson anymore. BUSINESSEUROPE also had a French President, the very rich and extremely amicable Ernest-Antoine Seillière. He led the employers’ delegation during the obligatory ‘trialogue’, which was chaired by the French President Jacques Chirac.
Seillière was the person who led the name change from Unice to BUSINESSEUROPE and he advocated an AngloSaxon management style. He thought it more efficient to use one common language, English of course. A Frenchman doing this is quite special to say the least. For some in this hierarchical organisation it was pure French blasphemy.
When President Chirac gave him the floor, in French of course, Seillière first said “merci Monsieur le Président,” and then blandly switched to English. Chirac had never seen this before; a Frenchman who addressed the French President in this loathed English and that during an official meeting. Chirac responded as if he was stung by a wasp and interrupted the employers’ President after a few seconds. He reminded Seillière of his nationality, pointed out that La République had La Présidence and admonished the wayward businessman to display some dignity.
The message was simple: you will address me in French and if you do not, I will leave this meeting immediately. Seillière looked at his President pityingly but did not flinch. He resumed his speech calmly in immaculate English.
Chirac was steaming and rushed out of the room, followed by his aides. Seillière continued undisturbed as if nothing had happened. This diplomatic incident made all headlines. Seillière, cunning as he was, made sure that his organisation, with its new name, controlled all media. Like this, even a normally dull ‘trialogue’ became a sexy news item on television.
Talking about communication. Only once was I allowed to sit in during the ‘trialogue’.
This was when Italy was President and it was the second time I saw Mr Berlusconi. The literal distance between us was a lot smaller this time. A salient detail was that Romano Prodi was President of the European Commission.
Prodi and Berlusconi were each other’s arch enemies and could not stand the sight of each other. This was clearly noticeable during this meeting. They sat opposite of each other, but tried their best not to have to look each other in the eyes nor speak to each other. They would always be using the third person singular while admiring the ceiling. Everyone present felt the temperature dropping well below freezing point. Never before nor after did I experience such animosity between two people. Here were two little boys that had to sit opposite of each other but did not want to play together. As if they had stolen each other’s toys and were forced to apologize by the teacher, but were not able to do so. A surrealistic spectacle, certainly at this level.
For the audience the tension was palpable. An additional reason to lower the pressure and empty the bladder during a short break. When I had finally found the toilets on the VIP floor of the Council building (Justus Lipsius), I had hoped to get some quietness. A brief escape and discharge. I am one of those people who cannot go when others are around. Somewhat irritated I looked left at the agitator possibly forcing him to use another toilet in the building. I looked again. He stood right next to me!
The almighty Berlusconi, without bodyguards nor cameras, almost in vulnerable nakedness. Bingo! Or rather, Bunga! I could not help myself. I looked at him far too attentively, it was beyond myself. The Prime Minister was not aware of this and did what he had to do. He was probably thinking what trick to pull at Prodi when he was done. He finished his business and washed his hands. I still could not go. I could not pee, so went back to the ice cold battlefield of the non-dialogue Sicilian ‘trialogue’.
What stuck with me the most was his size. The “big” Silvio, I almost had to laugh. It was a big joke indeed: size clearly does matter.
The Fixer: Lobbyist in Europe
Available on Amazon:
The Fixer. is published by CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform | 236 pages | ISBN 978 15 3042 781 9.
Author : Wytze Russchen

