‘An Almost Mystical Conception’: 1950–1951
‘Not just a piece of convenient machinery. It is a revolutionary and almost mystical conception.’
Harold Macmillan on Monnet’s ‘Schuman Plan’1
Through the late 1940s, one man had stood more or less apart from the abortive efforts to set up a ‘government for Europe’. Monnet was now nearing the end of implementing his four-year plan for the ‘modernisation’ of France. But, as he was to recall in his memoirs two decades later, he had watched the successive failures of the OEEC and the Council of Europe with a sense of resigned detachment, only too certain that neither of them could
‘…ever give concrete expression to European unity. Amid these vast groupings of countries, the common interest was too indistinct, and common disciplines were too lax. A start would have to be made by doing something more practical and more ambitious. National sovereignty would have to be tackled more boldly and on a narrower front.’2
If Monnet was sure that something much ‘more practical and ambitious’ was needed to achieve the desired goal, however, then events in the late spring of 1950 conspired to create precisely the opportunity he was looking for.
During 1949, West Germany had finally emerged to self-government under the Chancellorship of Konrad Adenauer. Under its Basic Law, passed on 8 May 1949, the new Federal Democratic Republic, or FDR, was based on a federation of the eleven highly decentralised Land governments which, on British insistence, retained considerable power, guaranteed by a constitutional court. In crucial respects the federal government, centred in Bonn, could not act without the consent of the Länder. In particular, all international treaties had to be ratified by the Länder through their legislative assembly, the Bundesrat. The largest and most powerful Land, Bavaria, had actually voted against the new constitution, for not reserving even greater power to the Länder.
Economically, by this time, the new Germany, under the guidance of Ludwig Erhard, was already showing signs of a remarkable recovery. This raised the question of how the new nation should be assimilated into the western European community. At the Council of Europe in August 1949 Churchill had shocked many delegates by proposing that she should be given the warmest of welcomes. Two of the western occupying powers, the USA and Britain, wanted to see her continue on the road towards full economic recovery and nationhood as soon as possible. But this had provoked a deep rift with France, which wanted to continue exercising control over the German economy, for fear that she might once again become too strong a political and economic rival.
The argument centred on that old bone of contention, the coal and steel industries of the Ruhr, heartland of Germany’s economy and formerly the arsenal of her war machine. In 1948, France had demanded the setting up of an International Ruhr Authority, which would enable French officials to control Germany’s coal and steel production and ensure that a substantial part of that production was diverted to aid French reconstruction. It was a curious echo of France’s policy after the First World War. Naturally the new West Germany was bitterly opposed to such an authority. Equally so were the other two occupying powers, America and Britain.
For over two years this dispute had festered, without resolution. But in the spring of 1950 the US Secretary of State Dean Acheson finally lost patience. He issued France with what amounted to an ultimatum. On 11 May there would be a foreign ministers’ meeting in London; and unless the French could offer a satisfactory compromise proposal, the USA would impose a solution on all parties.
This gave Monnet the opportunity for which he had been waiting. For years he had dreamed of building a ‘United States of Europe’, beginning by integrating the coal and steel industries, and setting up a supranational authority to run them. This was the idea first put forward in the 1920s, by Coudenhove and Loucheur, and partly implemented by Mayrisch in 1926. It was the idea Monnet himself had outlined to Spaak in 1941 and in his Algiers memorandum in 1943. But what Monnet had in mind was that the coal and steel industries, not just of France and Germany but of other western European countries, should be placed under the direction of a supranational authority: just as over dinner in Paris in 1917 he and Salter had come up with a similar plan for the control of allied shipping.
When Monnet came to commit his plan to paper at the end of April, allegedly after two weeks’ strenuous walking in the Swiss Alps,3 he was obviously troubled by how much he dare reveal of its real underlying purpose. Before getting to its final stage, it went through nine separate drafts. In the first, the pooling of coal and steel was regarded as ‘the first step of a Franco-German Union’. The second opened it up to the ‘first step of a Franco-German Union and a European federation’. By the fifth draft, this had been changed to ‘Europe must be organised on a federal basis. A Franco-German Union is an essential element is this’. The seventh demanded that ‘Europe must be organised on a Federal basis’. But, by the final draft, almost all this was missing. All he would allow himself was a reference to the pool being ‘the first step of a European federation’, a vague term which could mean different things to different people.4
Although what Monnet really had in mind was the creation of a European entity with all the attributes of a state, the anodyne phrasing was deliberately chosen with a view to making it difficult to dilute by convert-ing it into just another intergovernmental body. It was also couched in this fashion so that it would not scare off national governments by emphasising that its purpose was to override their sovereignty.5
Once his memorandum was complete, Monnet’s next problem was how to get it adopted. He could not act as the champion of his own plan. As a natural behind-the-scenes operator, his style was always to act indirectly. He needed to win over very senior support in the French government. In this, he had few problems as he had constant contact with senior members of the French government. His obvious choice was foreign minister Robert Schuman. It would be he that would have to face Acheson in a few days’ time and Monnet knew that his officials had little to offer. He would most likely, therefore, be receptive to some new ideas.
Furthermore, as a potential advocate, Schuman had other advantages. Born in 1886 in Luxembourg to a German mother, he was fluent in both German and French, having read law at the universities of Berlin, Munich and Bonn. He had then moved to Alsace Lorraine when it was under German rule, which meant that in 1914 he had been recruited into the German army. Yet in the Second World War, when Alsace Lorraine was again part of Germany, he had, as a French citizen, been arrested by the Gestapo. He was thus a perfect witness to the need to resolve the Franco-German conflict.
To get to Schuman, Monnet approached his chef de cabinet Bernard Clappier, telling him to advise his boss that he had some ideas for the London conference. He had expected Clappier to call him back but, by Friday 28 April, Monnet had heard nothing. Fearing that Schuman was not interested, Monnet sent a copy of his memorandum to prime minister Georges Bidault, via his closest aide, again asking for it to passed on. In the memorandum, Monnet wrote of the ‘German situation’ becoming a cancer that would be dangerous to peace. For future peace, he wrote, the creation of a dynamic Europe is indispensable:
‘We must therefore abandon the forms of the past and enter the path of transformation, both by creating common basic economic conditions and by setting up new authorities accepted by the sovereign nations. Europe has never existed. It is not the addition of sovereign nations met together in councils that makes an entity of them. We must genuinely create Europe; it must become manifest to itself …’6
Alas for Bidault, who thereby missed his chance of immortality, the memorandum did not reach him. Meanwhile, Clappier had re-appeared full of apologies. Monnet gave him a copy of the memorandum and immediately decided that Schuman should see it. He caught him at Gare de l’Est, as he was sitting in a train, waiting to go to Metz for the weekend.7 When Schuman returned to Paris, after studying the document, he had adopted the plan wholeheartedly. It had now become the ‘Schuman Plan’, although in reality it was not his at all. In the final analysis, he was not even committed to it, except as a device to get him off a hook.8
Once Schuman had agreed, the contents of the Plan were passed by his office in great secrecy to the German chancellor, Konrad Adenauer, in the hope of securing his provisional agreement. Other governments, especially the British, were not told. According to Professor Bernard Lavergne, a prominent political commentator of the time, who was to publish a highly critical study of the plan:
‘The curious thing was that M. Bidault, the Premier, was – at least, at first – not at all favourable to the Plan which, in early May, was suddenly sprung on him by his Foreign Minister, M. Schuman. And oddly enough – though this was typical of M. Schuman’s furtive statesmanship and diplomacy – neither was M. François-Poncet, the French High Commissioner, nor the Quay d’Orsay, or even the French Government, properly informed of what was going on during the days that preceded the “Schuman bombshell” of 9 May.’ 9
However, ‘as a result of a curious coincidence’, Dean Acheson was already on his way to the summit in London, and had decided to go via Paris to confer informally with Schuman. By another ‘coincidence’, Monnet was present at their meeting. As Monnet disingenuously put it, ‘courtesy and honesty obliged us to take Acheson into our confidence’.10 The Plan was also presented to the French Cabinet, but only in a most perfunctory way:
‘Only three or four ministers were informed about it (the Plan), and when, finally, on 8 May, the Council of Ministers met, no serious discussion took place at all. Schuman gave them a rough sketch of the Plan, and, without really knowing what it was all about, they gave it their blessing.’ 11
Schuman then took an audacious step. He would announce ‘his’ plan by appealing directly to the peoples of Europe, through the media. At a dramatic press conference in the gilded Salon de l’Horloge at the Quai d’Orsay, at 4 p.m. on 9 May 1950 – today officially commemorated as ‘Europe Day’ – he revealed Monnet’s plan to the world. Because no arrangements had been made to broadcast his announcement, he later repeated it on France’s state radio. ‘World peace’, he began,
‘…cannot be safeguarded without the making of creative efforts proportionate to the dangers which threaten it. The contribution which an organised and living Europe can bring to civilisation is indispensable to the maintenance of peaceful relations. In taking upon herself for more than 20 years the role of champion of a united Europe, France has always had as her essential aim the service of peace. A united Europe was not achieved and we had war. Europe will not be made all at once, or according to a single plan. It will be built through concrete achievements which first create a de facto solidarity. The coming together of the nations of Europe requires the elimination of the age-old opposition of France and Germany…
With this aim in view the French Government proposes that action be taken immediately on one limited but decisive point…it proposes that Franco-German production of coal and steel as a whole be placed under a common High Authority, within the framework of an organisation open to the participation of the other countries of Europe. The pooling of coal and steel production should immediately provide for the setting up of common foundations for economic development as a first step in the federation of Europe.’
After describing how ‘the solidarity in production thus established will make it plain that any war between France and Germany becomes not merely unthinkable, but materially impossible’, he went on to say that this would help simply and speedily to achieve ‘that fusion of interest which is indispensable to the establishment of a common economic system’.12
This was the ‘Schuman Declaration’ which now occupies pride of place on the EU’s Europa website as the document ‘which led to the creation of what is now the European Union’. Yet, according to one historian, although the plan was immediately greeted with great excitement by the press, the curious thing was that literally nobody knew exactly what it was about, not even Schuman.13
As to the British reaction, according to a much later account by Roy Denman, a senior Foreign Office civil servant and apologist for the European Union, the British prime minister Clement Attlee ‘received the French proposal with ill-grace’.14 In fact, of course, the British government did not ‘receive’ it at all. They had been sent a summary only hours before the public broadcast and learned of the full text only from the broadcast.
Attlee was extremely annoyed, and had every right to be. Not only was France’s behaviour wholly undiplomatic; after an earlier incident, Attlee had specifically asked that no decisions involving Germany be taken before the foreign ministers’ conference in London, which was about to begin two days later.15 Furthermore, when he heard that Acheson had been informed about the plan in advance, he suspected – not without justice – that the Americans and the French had been colluding.
Yet, on the basis of these deceptions, what Monnet called his ‘silent revolution’ had started. There could now be no turning back without massive and adverse political consequences.
The wider response
As Monnet anticipated, Adenauer endorsed the plan. There was little else he could do. To reject what appeared to be a magnanimous offer from the French would have not been politically astute, and there were compelling reasons for its acceptance. Monnet was correct in his assumption that Adenauer saw in the plan a way Germany might reassert partial control of its industry. And, as Monnet also well knew, Adenauer was highly sympathetic to the idea of European unity. In 1948 he had attended the United Europe Congress in The Hague, where the Congress had declared: ‘European nations must transfer and merge some of their sovereign rights so as to secure common political and economic action’. Afterwards, Adenauer had observed: ‘In truth, in [the unification movement] lies the salvation of Europe and the salvation of Germany’.16 Then, in March 1950, Adenauer had proposed, during an interview with a journalist, that France and Germany should unite as one nation. Their economies would be managed as one, their parliaments merged, their citizenship held in common.17
Adenauer’s extravagant proposal had not been taken seriously; but two months later came the Schuman Plan. In ensuring a favourable response Monnet’s tactics had been immaculate. In fact Adenauer’s initial enthusiasm cooled somewhat when he learned that Monnet was behind the Plan, fearing that the real aim was to promote French interests at the expense of Germany. However, during a meeting between the two men on 23 May, Monnet assured him of absolute equality between nations. Only then did Adenauer relax, declaring, ‘I regard the implementation of the French proposal as my most important task. If I succeed, I believe my life will not have been wasted’.18
Germany would at this stage have welcomed the participation of the British, as a counter to possible French dominance; and a formal invitation was extended to the British government to take part in talks on what was described as ‘a plan to have a plan’. Even Schuman would probably have preferred British involvement. But that was the last thing Monnet wanted.
Without prompting, Britain’s prime minister Attlee had in any case decided there was no way Britain could accept that ‘the most vital economic forces of this country should be handed over to an authority that is utterly undemocratic and is responsible to nobody’. The Cabinet minutes of 2 June 1950 stated:
‘Our position was different from that of the other European countries by reason of our Commonwealth connections, and we should be slow to accept the principle of the French proposal… especially as it appeared to involve some surrender of sovereignty.’
The Treasury’s view was, ‘It is not in our interests to tie ourselves to a corpse.’ Labour’s National Executive Committee asserted that Western Europe lacked the ‘civic and administrative traditions’ essential to democratic socialism.19 A formal note was sent to the French government, stating:
‘… it remains the view of His Majesty’s Government that to subscribe to the terms of the draft communiqué…would involve entering into an advance commitment to pool iron and steel resources and to set up an authority, with certain supreme powers, before there had been a full opportunity of considering how these important and far-reaching proposals would work in practice. His Majesty’s government are most anxious that these proposals should be discussed and pursued but they feel unable to associate themselves with a communiqué which appears to take decisions prior to, rather than as a result of, intergovernmental discussions…20
This was precisely the response Monnet had expected. On the basis of Britain’s past record and commitment to intergovernmentalism, he had anticipated that they would oppose the supranational element which was the very core of his plan. He had thus deliberately engineered Britain’s exclusion, by the simple expedient of making joining the talks conditional on accepting the supranational principle as non-negotiable, and by setting an impossibly short deadline of 2 June, during the Whitsun holiday, for agreeing to this condition.
History records that, as the deadline approached, Attlee and his Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir Stafford Cripps, were out of London and could not be contacted. Herbert Morrison, as acting prime minister, was tracked down to a restaurant after having spent the evening at the theatre. Asked for a decision, he famously remarked: ‘The Durham miners won’t wear it.’ 21 A thinly attended Cabinet confirmed Morrison’s reaction.
In that context, only the previous year the government had nationalised Britain’s iron and steel industries. It would seem curiously untimely then to hand over their control to another body, which had no concern for them to be run in Britain’s national interest, and wholly unrealistic to expect that a government which had as one of its main priorities full employment to have handed industries employing a total of 1,179,000 workers over to the control of a supranational authority.
Furthermore, the defence ministry was concerned that the Plan might affect the war potential of the country. Bevin agreed, fearing that, if Europe was over-run, and Britain’s economy had gone too far down the road of economic integration, she might not be able to function independently. Manny Shinwell, then defence minister, endorsed this concern. The risk of relying on pooled western European resources, some of which might be lost to an invader, was too great.22 Thus, the central objective of the Plan which made it so attractive its advocates – eliminating the independent war-making capability of member states – was anathema to the British. In view of her Second World War experience and the real possibility of a Soviet land invasion of Europe, the lack of enthusiasm was far from irrational.
Britain was by no means alone in having reservations about ‘Le Plan’. French Socialists shared the British concerns; the Communists feared it might allow French industry to be smothered by the Germans, with resultant unemployment. A widely held view, cited by Lavergne, was that:
‘From the moment Britain, with her 220 million tons of coal and her 16 million tons of steel was unwilling to join, it should have been a matter of the most elementary prudence for M. Schuman to abandon his Plan.’23
However, there was one British MP who was unequivocally in favour of Britain joining the talks. A day after Communist North Korea’s armies swept over the frontier into South Korea on 25 June, thus precipitating another major Cold War crisis, the new young Conservative Member for Bexley gave his maiden speech in the House of Commons. Ignoring the convention that such speeches should avoid controversial matters, Edward Heath averred that for Britain not to join the talks on the Schuman plan would be a grave error. By standing aside, ‘we may be taking a very great risk with our economy in the coming years – a very great risk indeed’. 24
What Heath did not appear to recognise was the skill with which Monnet had deliberately managed to exclude the British from the negotiations. It was regarded by many of his colleagues as one of his greatest triumphs.25 Nor did they seem to take into account the broader strategic, and especially the defence implications.
But many British ‘Europeanists’ argue to this day that Britain made a fundamental and tragic error in not joining the negotiations, thereby seeking to influence them. Dean Acheson himself was later to describe it as ‘the greatest mistake of the post-war period’.26 Their views, however, are refuted by none other than the British official history of the period, its author writing:
‘The conversations and correspondence with French officials and with Schuman between 9 May and 2 June can lend some credence to the idea that the United Kingdom might have obtained an acceptable treaty, meaning one with no subjugation to a High Authority as a promise of closer union… Nevertheless, the outcome of the negotiations suggests that there was no treaty which would have given Britain the economic and political advantages identified by officials, without a supranational authority as embryo and symbol of a European federation. Acceptance of Monnet’s non-negotiable principle did require a change of national strategy… It would have meant a commitment of political support…to a reconstruction of the pattern of political power in Europe in which the United Kingdom … could not share.’ 27
In any event, British involvement was precisely what Monnet wanted to avoid. Correctly reading the psychology of the British government, he created a situation it could not have accepted.
Another myth that countless people prefer to believe (as can be seen, for instance, from the Commission’s Europa website) is that the plan really did originate with Schuman, who has thus become honoured as one of the ‘Founding Fathers of Europe’. In fact the historical record unequivocally shows that it was all due to just one man: Jean Monnet. It was an extraordinary testament to his peculiar talents that he had been able to seize the moment to move his project to the centre of the agenda with such dazzling success.
Monnet’s ‘one-man show’
Launching his plan was only the start of Monnet’s achievement. Invitations to discuss it had also been extended to representatives of the three Benelux countries and Italy. By 3 June they had all agreed to take part. Particularly enthusiastic was the Italian premier Alcide de Gasperi. Thus were brought together what were to become known as the ‘Six’.
By the time the talks began, Monnet had already engineered another coup. Not only did he get agreement that he should chair the negotiations; he had also managed to convince a French inter-ministerial committee that he should be France’s representative at the talks, with power to appoint his own advisers.28 Thus came about the extraordinary situation whereby, in what were to become one of the most important negotiations in its history, France was represented by a man who was not even a member of its government.
To get the negotiations under way, Monnet produced a document de travail, which meant that, in addition to organising the talks, chairing the sessions, and representing France, he also set the agenda. The ‘one-man show’ was to continue. Nevertheless, it was July before Monnet could produce a working draft for consideration by the governments of the Six, not least because of the incoherence of his original document. Belgian prime minister, Paul van Zeeland, described that as ‘so vague on essential details that it was impossible to speak definitely about it’.29
When it was ready, a summary of Monnet’s July text was given to the press, in which he was ‘careful to include the following stipulation’:
‘The withdrawal of a State which has committed itself to the Community should be possible only if all the others agree to such withdrawal and to the conditions in which it takes place. The rule in itself sums up the fundamental transformation which the French proposal seeks to achieve. Over and above coal and steel, it is laying the foundations of a European federation. In a federation, no State can secede by its own unilateral decision. Similarly, there can be no Community except among nations which commit themselves to it with no limit and no looking back.’30
After that, wrote Monnet, ‘no one could any longer doubt our ambition and our determination’.
Nevertheless, each of the representatives involved sought to extract the maximum advantage for their nations. Part of the price was a two-percent turnover tax imposed on German collieries to support the decrepit Belgian coal mines; and a preferential ore supply arrangement for Italy, with subsidies for the importing of coal, and special tariffs and quotas to protect its steel industry.31 These concessions breached Monnet’s original concept of ‘equal treatment’ but they were needed to get agreement.
There were other concessions. Monnet’s original plan had focused on that component closest to his heart: the supranational power to be given to his ‘High Authority’. At the behest of the Belgians, a Court of Arbitration was added, to adjudicate in case of disputes. The French finance minister had then proposed the inclusion of an Assembly, which would retain the ultimate power to dismiss the High Authority, much as a shareholders’ meeting has the power to dismiss a board of directors.
Monnet’s supranationalism now came under further attack from those who disliked the idea of his High Authority being free from control by elected politicians. The Dutch chief negotiator, Dirk Spierenburg, called for an intergovernmental ‘watchdog’ to supervise the High Authority. Monnet resisted this strongly but, in face of continued Dutch insistence, reinterpreted the proposal. He accepted it so long as there was majority voting and no ‘veto’, insisting that the ‘watchdog’ should be a ‘forum’ through which the High Authority could ‘play an educating role vis-à-vis the governments’.32
Thus was born the ‘Council of Ministers’. Monnet then set about devising a voting formula, which meant that the combined power of Germany and France could not outvote the remaining members, a system which was to become known as ‘qualified majority voting’. Finally, he secured a crucial agreement that, although the Council of Ministers could take part in decision-making, it could not instruct the High Authority. Monnet’s ‘Authority’ was to remain supreme, immune from the interference of nation states. Supranationalism had survived its greatest challenge.
In the first months after Monnet’s Plan had been launched, amongst those who had praised it was Macmillan. To the Assembly of the Council of Europe on 15 August 1950, he had described it as being ‘not just a piece of convenient machinery. It is a revolutionary and almost mystical conception’.33 As someone who had enjoyed lengthy discussions with Monnet on his views on the future of Europe during their time together in Algiers in 1943, Macmillan perhaps had a shrewder understanding than most of the intentions which lay behind it. However, in the same speech, he made it clear that it was not for Britain, telling the delegates:
‘At all events, one fact is certain, and we had better face it frankly. Our people will not hand over to a supranational authority the right to close down our pits and steelworks. We shall not permit a supranational authority to reduce a large section of our fellow citizens in Durham, the Midlands, South Wales and Scotland to unemployment. These fears may be imaginary, but their existence is a fact, and a fact moreover, which no British Government can afford to ignore.’ 34
Then, after the negotiations had meandered on for some months, several British delegates to the Council of Europe, including Macmillan, sought to reassert the intergovernmental agenda. They put to the Assembly that the Coal and Steel Community be made an agency of the Council rather than an independent, supranational authority. As always, Monnet reacted sharply. In a letter to Macmillan he strongly denounced the proposal, complaining that it would not offer the creation of a new economic community, ‘but merely a mechanism for coordination among nation states’, precisely what he was most anxious to avoid.35
But this British intervention turned out to be no more than a side-show. By then, the momentum of the Six was unstoppable. Final agreement was reached and formalised by the Treaty of Paris, signed on 18 April 1951, creating the European Coal and Steel Community. It was not until December 1951, however, that the Treaty was ratified, ‘in an atmosphere of doubt and resignation, and a good deal of indifference’.36 The Gaullist deputy Jacques Soustelle thought the Plan was not ‘European’ but ‘anti-European’:
‘We are all in favour of a European confederation, comprising Germany… But what worries us about the Coal-Steel pool is that instead of bringing us nearer to “Europe”, it is taking us away from it. Instead of delegating our powers to a democratic Assembly, we are asked to abandon an important sector of our economy to a stateless and uncontrolled autocracy of experts.’37
Professor Lavergne expressed concern about the project’s alarming lack of democracy in another respect:
‘The French public could not make head or tail of the subsequent negotiations. Parliament, for its part, was presented with the project only very late in the day, and apart from twenty or thirty deputies and senators with sufficient general knowledge to form an opinion of the Plan, few grasped its meaning… In most cases the thing was looked at through the distorting prism of a few slogans or electoral prejudices; in many cases, most of the deputies voted with their eyes shut, and simply obeying the decisions taken by their party.’38
But Monnet had got what he wanted. His great project was at last launched. Unsurprisingly, he was also appointed as the new High Authority’s first president, based in Luxembourg. As for where it might all lead, he himself left little room for doubt. Addressing the first session of the Community’s new assembly, he told the delegates that they were taking part in ‘the first government of Europe’.39
1 Horne, op. cit., p. 319.
2 Monnet, op. cit., pp. 273–274.
3 Vaughan, Twentieth Century Europe, p. 105.
4 Fransen, op. cit., pp. 96–97.
5 Ibid.
6 Reproduced in Vaughan, op. cit., p. 55.
7 Monnet, op. cit., pp. 298–299.
8 Fransen, op. cit., p. 97.
9 Lavergne, Bernard (1952), Le Plan Schuman (Paris), pp. 14–15. Cited in Werth, op. cit., pp. 479–480.
10 Monnet, op. cit., p. 301.
11 Ibid.
12 Leiden University History Department History of European Integration site, op. cit.
13 Werth, op. cit., p. 478. The ‘excitement’ was not universal. Journalist Raymond Aron, in the Manchester Guardian, wrote: ‘One may ask how it is that an idea as banal as this should now be accepted as something vital and new.’ (30 May 1950)
14 Denman, Roy (1996), Missed Chances – Britain And Europe In The Twentieth Century (London, Cassell Publishers Ltd), p. 187.
15 Duchêne, op. cit., p. 201.
16 Schwarz, Hans-Peter (1981 and 1983), Die Ära Adenauer, 1949–1957 and Die Ära Adenauer 1957–1963; Vols II and III of Geschichte der Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Stuttgart, Deutsche, erlags-Anstalt). Cited in Williams, Charles (2000), Adenauer – Father Of The New Germany (London, Little, Brown and Company), pp. 331–332.
17 Williams, op. cit., p. 358.
18 Monnet, op. cit., p. 311.
19 Labour Party (1950), European Union (London), pp. 7 and 9.
20 Cited in Anglo-French Discussions Regarding French Proposals for the Western European Coal, Iron and Steel Industries (1950), Command Paper 7970 (London, HMSO).
21 Cited in Denman; George; Young and others.
22 Milward, op. cit., pp. 41–42 and 52–53.
23 Werth, op. cit., p. 481.
24 Hansard, 26 June 1950, col. 1959.
25 Fransen, op. cit., p. 100.
26 Horne, Macmillan 1894–1956, p. 319. See also Denman, op. cit., p. 188; George, Stephen (1990), An Awkward Partner – Britain In The European Community (third ed.) (Oxford, Oxford University Press), p. 5; and Dell, Edmund (1995), The Schuman Plan And The British Abdication Of Leadership In Europe (Oxford, Clarendon Press).
27 Milward, op. cit., pp. 61–62.
28 Duchêne, op. cit., p. 209.
29 Ibid.
30 Monnet, op. cit., p. 326.
31 Gillingham, John (1991), ‘Jean Monnet and the European Coal and Steel Community: A Preliminary Appraisal’, in Brinkley, Douglas, and Hackett, Clifford (eds), Jean Monnet: The Path To European Unity (New York, St Martin’s Press), p. 144.
32 Fransen, op. cit., pp. 106–109.
33 Horne, Macmillan 1894–1956, p. 319. It is not clear whether Macmillan was being ironic. Horne portrays his subject as being a more enthusiastic supporter of European integration than other sources.
34 Cited in Spaak, op. cit., p. 216.
35 Archives Nationales (A. N.), Paris, 8 August 1950. 81/AJ/158.
36 Werth, op. cit., p. 481.
37 Débats, A. N., 6 December 1951, p. 8881. Cited in Werth, op. cit., p. 550.
38 In Werth, op. cit., p. 480.
39 Duchêne, op. cit., p. 235.