The Towers of Babel

There’s one European Union subsidy that I always encourage constituents to claim. The European Parliament makes grants available for people to come and see its members at work. I suppose the idea is that the encounter might thaw the typical voter’s froideur toward Brussels but, in my experience, the effect is precisely the opposite.

The first thing that strikes the visitor is the monstrous scale. The European Parliament building in Brussels is vast, running the length of several blocks. During my first six months as an MEP, I was forever turning up late to meetings because a part of my brain simply could not accept that it might take fifteen minutes to walk somewhere under the same ceiling.

If you ever traveled behind the Iron Curtain, you’ll remember that the Soviets were fond of using space to signify status—possibly because it was one of the few commodities that they had in plentiful supply. In like vein, the European Parliament has dozens of unused protocol rooms and antechambers and broad corridors lined with portraits and empty reception areas and echoing salons.

A similarly grandiose spirit infuses its security procedures, which seem primarily intended to impress and subdue visitors. Getting into the European Parliament involves waiting and handing over your passport and waiting again and having yourself photographed and waiting some more and then getting a nifty little badge. Dozens of uniformed guards are involved, and very nice people they are.