Letter from London: Britain in Europe—Half-hearted and Ambivalent Forever?

Abstract

Last May, British Prime Minister Tony Blair traveled to the now sleepy city of Aachen, nestling on the Dutch-German border close to Belgium. He went there to receive, in the historic capital of the Carolingian Empire, the appropriately named Charlemagne Prize for services to the latest project for European integration. To be sure, Mr. Blair's contribution to the twentieth-century version of United Christendom has been to date rather more piecemeal (one might also add more peaceful) than the great medieval emperor's. More pointedly still, his prize marked no major change in Britain's contemporary relations with continental Europe. In fact, it conferred no additional powers, just a touch of kudos and a lot of money, on Mr. Blair himself. It was not even without recent precedent. Sir Edward Heath, surely even to his enemies-perhaps especially to his enemies-an altogether more worthy recipient of the award, had been duly honored nearly two decades before. Only the most optimistically disposed can really believe that no one else, suitably elevated and seemingly deserving, will not be singled out for such praise in the near future. But, ever the polite Scotch gentleman and perhaps even enthusiastic about the moment, Mr. Blair marked the occasion by saluting his benefactors in no mean style. For he chose this occasion to make if not