CITY AND SUBURBAN
If George Shultz had known this would happen, he would have sat on his tiger
CHRISTOPHER FILDES
Birmingham is not my idea of where to spend a weekend, and certainly not this one. I shall plead a subsequent engage- ment. The whole of the nut and bolt belt will be crawling with security cordons, stretch limos, spouses' outings, busy sher- pas, bilateral breakfasts, press briefings, photo opportunities and all the prefabricat- ed hoopla that now attaches itself to an economic summit meeting. If George Shultz had known what he was starting, he would have sat tight on his tiger tattoo (a relic of his Princeton days) and kept the whiskey to himself. It is 25 years since, as Richard Nixon's Treasury secretary, he asked his opposite numbers from France, Germany and Britain to pop round for a drink and a chat in the White House library. What they decided, as so often at such meetings, was to meet again. This time the man from Japan came, then Italy and Canada joined in, suddenly the world was blessed with a Group of Seven, and all that remained was for Valery Giscard d'Estaing, who after the library meeting had advanced from finance minister to president, to con- vene the first economic summit. Down from its heights drifted a communiqué, all about the need for growth without infla- tion, trade without barriers, the responsible use of resources and so on. It has come in handy ever since, and Sir Nigel Wicks, the Treasury's head sherpa, must have been polishing it up for its annual appearance. Along the way, these meetings have lost all that might have made them worthwhile spontaneity, informality, intimacy, point and have turned into a travelling three-ring circus. Last year Bill Clinton staged it in Denver, Colorado,. and made his guests dress up in cowboy outfits. Now it is Tony Blair's turn to play ringmaster. Welcome to Birmingham, Bill.
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