The Chairman of New
Zealand's Parliamentary Foreign Affairs
Committe, Graham Kelly, pensively took
to the grand piano of the cavernous reception
hall in the Doha Sheraton Hotel. Outside,
the stars shone brightly in the clear desert
skies. Inside, deep in the recesses of
the giant hotel complex, while he played
the piano, Kelly's boss haggled in a closed
private conference room with other ministers
representing 142 nations over the two issues
that were blocking the talks-tuna and banana
quotas. Kelly was so formally attired as
the statesman he is that he looked more
like the hotel's official pianist. But
he was waiting, like everyone else for
the closed talks to wind up. Midnight was
approaching, and there seemed no end in
sight to the haggling, the politics. Kelly's
team stood politely alongside the piano,
also waiting.
There
was a slight commotion... workers were packing chairs
in a conference room near where the ministers were
meeting. As far as officialdom, was concerned, the
conference was due to end, and end it would.
Members of the
Angolan delegation, lamented over a glass of
wine. "We are extremely frustrated.
We thought there would be a conclusion. Any news
here would be good news," said Joao X (he
did not want to disclose his name) "because
our country is at war still. We have such a humanitarian
crisis. We would welcome any progress..."
It was during this conversation that the chandeliers
in the dimly lit reception hall, giant conical
contraptions of kitsch gold larger than the roof
of a suburban home, seemed to loom all-imposing.
Everyone was frustrated.
In a far corner, the European Union spokesman,
slicking back his neatly combed hair, was trying
to put a brave face on the Doha Crisis about what
he had pegged all week would conclude with the
Doha Round. He was surrounded by cameramen and
reporters hanging on every word. He tried to put
a brave face on it all.
After all, what the world press had dubbed the
World Trade Summit was sputtering to the brink
of its closing deadline on Tuesday in a debate
over tins of tuna and bunches of bananas. Even
before they could resolve the big issues like farm
subsidies, delegates were locked in battle over
the Europeans' insistence on keeping some special
trade preferences for their former colonies in
the 77 nations of the African, Caribbean and Pacific
group - preferences that are an exception to WTO
rules.
Thailand and the Philippines were insisting on
dropping the preferences for their canned tuna
exports, while Ecuador was demanding the preferences
be dropped for bananas. Cameras were flashing,
and reporters scribbled furiously.
A giant screen
in the hall carrying the schedule of events read: "ministers in closed session.
11:00 p.m. plenary session" It was a vague
schedule.
So when would it
wind up? Would it reach a conclusion? A frustrated
WTO official said only that progress
was hamstrung by a couple of "wobblies in
the works, or spanners, or call them what you will.
This one is up to the ministers, not us."
Every minute counted.
With hours to go before the closing deadline,
the French delegation threatened
to fly home. The Nigerians announced objections
to all but one page of the 24-page draft agreement.
And the Americans reminded one and all that "the
global economy and the markets are in no shape
to take a failure here." The Americans privately
were insisting that a deal was still "very
do-able." But the Europeans, as the world's
biggest trading power, had to make the call.
At five minutes
to midnight and the haggling was still going
on. The 11:00 PM deadline for the final
plenary session had passed. Would they "stop
the clock" at midnight so as to say, as is
standard UN practice, that it all ended on Tuesday
as planned? It was then that a French official
walked out, and strolled into the garden where
other delegates were enjoying the wait, downing
quantities of wine at the poolside bar. A reporter
overheard him say on his mobile telephone: "Yes
Minister. Of course Minister. Have no doubt, France
will hold firm. We will not budge. We will not
give an inch. Rest assured... ah, it's not cold
here Sir. Its 'tres' hot and 'humide'. It's the
desert out here, Minister." In a crucial sticking
point, France, it then transpired, was refusing
to change the mandate of the European Union and
accept a commitment to "phasing out" Europe's
generous subsidies for its food exports. "Really,
it's a sort of deal-breaker point," explained
French commerce minister Fracois Huwart.
So it went on late into the night. The first WTO
summit held in the Islamic world, the Doha meeting
will be remembered solely, it appeared, for the
admission of China and Tawain as the 143rd and
144th members.
But whether that
leads to any "glasnost" between
the two is an open question. In an interview with
the Conference News Daily on Tuesday, Hsin-I Lin,
Taiwanese minister of economic affairs voiced his
hope of setting up regular talks with mainland
China, as he prepared to sign the accession papers.
He spoke of a conversation to this affect with
Shi Guangsheng, China's minister of economic cooperation.
But as Wednesday dawned, Guangsheng denied having
the conversation, and reiterated Beijing's "One
China" policy which means no bilateral talks.
Bad vibes all round. "This is the second
WTO shipwreck" screamed a Greenpeace handout
placed on every keyboard used by journalists in
the press center. "Who's on the bridge?"
After four days of talks and an all-night session,
the exhausted and infuriated Europeans at one point
threatened to walk out, while the Americans warned
that the world's nervous financial markets are
in poor shape to cope with a summit failure.
WTO Director General
Mike Moore was locked in last-ditch efforts to
save the talks as the deadline
passed. The motto of the WTO, after all, is "Nothing
agreed, until everything agreed". And with
India and Nigeria in the lead, the developing world
were staging a diplomatic revolt against the customary
dominance of Europe and the United States, the
two economic giants that dominate world trade.
"This is a matter of life and death," lamented
Kenyan Trade Minister Kipyator Biwott. And Mr Kelly
from New Zealand kept those in the waiting game
entertained with the refrain of Gershwin's "I'm
in the mood for love."
|
