As revealing as Günther Oettinger’s recent ruminations on race and sex may have been about his worldview, even more telling was the European Commission’s reaction to them.
Asked during a press briefing last week about the speech during which Oettinger characterized the Chinese as “hustlers” and “slant-eyes” (Schlitzohren und Schlitzaugen, in German) and made cracks about Walloons, gay marriage and professional women, Juncker spokesman Margaritis Schinas said the Commission had no comment. He referred reporters to what he called the “rather detailed” explanation the commissioner had provided to Germany’s Die Welt a few days previously.
In fact, Oettinger’s explanations were far from detailed, amounting to a mealy-mouthed defense of language that was clearly beyond the pale. He told the newspaper he had been speaking loosely and using “slang.” What he didn’t do was apologize.
“I think we have to listen to what Günther Oettinger has to say,” Schinas told reporters, adding he didn’t want to make any “value judgements.” “I cannot say anything else. That’s what there is.”
In most corners of the democratic world, a senior politician caught on video using racial stereotypes would merit some sort of official response. A government might defend, reject or even apologize for the remarks in an effort to “get ahead of the story.”
Not so in Brussels.
The European Commission, a political body that claims to represent the interests of more than 500 million European citizens across 28 countries, responded to racist comments of one of its most senior members by simply saying nothing.
Welcome to Jean-Claude Juncker’s no-spin zone.
Under pressure
Instead of transparency, accountability or even a desire to obfuscate, the Commission’s communication is driven by simple paralysis. The multipolar crises it has faced of late have taken a heavy toll. Instead of dealing with Oettinger in short order by undertaking the obvious — either firing him or forcing an immediate apology — the Commission seized up.
If Schinas thought he could get away with dodging the question, he was wrong. The Brussels press corps would have none of it. Another reporter followed up.
“I would like to know if President Juncker is in control … Is Mr. Juncker in charge?” the reporter asked.
Schinas’ curt response: “Yes.”
In the end, the only revealing piece of information Schinas divulged proved damning: Despite the uproar over Oettinger’s remarks, Juncker hadn’t even discussed the matter with his commissioner.
That didn’t last for long. By Juncker’s own telling, he sat down with Oettinger mid-week to reprimand him. He said he told the German commissioner, whom he’d just promoted, to apologize and refrain from commenting on issues outside his core area of responsibility.
Oettinger complied with the first part, at least, issuing a written apology on Thursday.
Oettinger, a regular presence in German media, has ignored the admonition not to stray beyond his brief as digital commissioner, however. Over the weekend he injected himself into the debate over Germany’s planned highway toll, telling a German newspaper he stood ready to help defend it against lawsuits in the European courts.
It’s no secret that Juncker’s Commission is under pressure. From the near collapse of the CETA trade deal with Canada and the refugee crisis to Brexit, it has had little to celebrate of late.
‘Small saint’
The resignation the week before last of Commission Vice President Kristalina Georgieva added to the gloom. Georgieva, who is headed for the World Bank, had complained for months to colleagues and others about the machinations inside the Commission. That the respected economist regards solving world hunger as a more viable project than the EU should be cause for alarm, one Brussels wag said.
As the Oettinger episode illustrated, the Commission has adopted a stone-faced attitude to bad news.
That reaction has hardened the impression in Brussels and beyond that the Juncker’s Commission suffers a bunker mentality and has lost touch. Indeed, in his recent public statements Juncker has alternated between between false modesty and delusions of grandeur.
“When I see how I’m described, I don’t recognize myself anymore,” Juncker told Austria’s Der Standard in a recent interview. “I’m presented as a powerful man in Europe. But I have the feeling, I’m just a small saint in a big church.”
Asked if he felt like Sisyphus, Juncker replied: “No, Sisyphus never brought a stone to the top. I’ve taken many stones up the mountain.”