WHENEVER kings come together," Goethe wrote, "it is always bad news." This week the heads of the six nations of the European Economic Community hope to prove the poet wrong when they meet in the 13th century Hall of Knights in The Hague. The two-day summit meeting could prove of critical importance in determining the future of the Common Market, and indeed of all Europe. Since the Market was created twelve years ago, it has not merely lost momentum but has also shown signs of coming apart.
The business of the "kings"—in reality the President of France, the Chancellor of West Germany and the Premiers of Italy, Belgium, The Netherlands and Luxembourg—is to determine how badly they want this economic union to endure and what they should do to revive its impetus. There was a great air of uncertainty over the direction the talks would take. As he processed credentials for the 500 newsmen attracted by the spectacle, one Dutch official wryly inquired last week: "Is it to be a burial or a revival?"
The man chiefly responsible for the Market's state of disarray will not be at the huge oval table. Charles de Gaulle saw the EEC as little more than an expediter of French policies and was determined to keep it thoroughly subservient to the six governments that brought it into being. On two occasions De Gaulle vetoed British membership. During one seven-month period, he ordered his ministers to boycott all meetings of the Six to demonstrate his displeasure over what he considered supranational power plays by the EEC Commission. De Gaulle became a symbol of obstinacy, but he also provided a convenient screen for the other members, who disagreed too about the way in which the Market was being shaped. Publicly, the five deplored France. Privately, they occasionally scuttled Market proposals that collided with their own particular national objectives.
Bureaucrats and Butterbergs. The result is that the Common Market today is still little more than an imperfect customs union—which is precisely what France's President Georges Pompidou sneeringly called it while serving as De Gaulle's Premier. Joint policies on money and transportation have never been worked out. Uniform tax reforms were supposed to be completed by the beginning of 1970, but Italy and Belgium have airily announced that they will be unable to meet the date.
The most stubborn problem of all is agriculture. Seventeen months ago, a new agricultural policy was introduced that called for a single six-nation market with uniform prices for most farm products. Hailed as the Common Market's finest achievement, the policy has not worked as well in practice as it did on paper. French devaluation and German revaluation shook the price structure. Instead of eliminating marginal farmers, the Six have kept them in business through a tangled network of supports and tariffs.