HELMUT Kohl compares the construction of Europe to building a house. But a school classroom was a better metaphor for Dublin Castle when European leaders met there at the weekend.
The Europeans have an ambitious project in the Inter Governmental Conference, intended - to draw up a new European constitution by the time school breaks up next June. And if they don't complete their work by the end of that term, then the EU enlargement will be delayed.
The six month EU presidency has turned Ireland into the school board, urging sluggish pupils, or ill behaved ones like John Major, to get on with their homework. Gay Mitchell's words were familiar from every school speech day.
"We're halfway through the presidency now," the Minister of State for European Affairs said. "We've been efficient and effective. We won't rest on our laurels. In three months time, when the presidency is over, there will be a feeling that we've worked hard and achieved a lot. I think there will be a happy sigh of relief."
And then there was the inevitable reference to school traditions.
"Our State is only 70 years old. If the founders of the State - some of whom were held prisoner in this very building - could have looked forward and seen Ireland conducting the European presidency for the fifth time, I think they would have been very proud."
Did the 1,500 journalists who flocked to Dublin for the one day summit understand this? All received the inevitable freebies glossy pamphlets stuffed with the addresses of Dublin restaurants and night clubs, statistics on Ireland's growing economy and references to the Easter Rising. ("En 1916, Un Soulevement Nationaliste fut lance a Dublin".)
There was an Irish music CD, a key ring and, for those tired of EU jargon, a half bottle of Jameson.
True to the new EU traditions, many correspondents arrived with cellphones linked to their own nation's communication systems. Reporters could be found booking dinner in Dame Street via Paris and Brussels.
While the Taoiseach outlined the EU's latest initiative on the Middle East, Dick Spring could be seen yawning, no doubt contemplating another trip to the intractable Arab Israeli dispute.
John Major was the candidate for Most Unruly Student. Asked why he had come to Dublin, he inexplicably quoted a first World War British army song.
"We're here because we're here," he told the mystified journalist.
After joining other leaders, lunching on confit of duck leg and darne of fresh salmon - washed down with German white Rhine wine and a fine French Bordeaux - Mr Major encountered the President of the European Parliament, Klaus Hansch.
The British Prime Minister publicly took exception to Dr Hansch's remark in Cork the evening before, to the effect that "14 European countries should not be hostage to one". Hansch had not used "diplomatic language", said Major.
Nor did Major go out of his way to greet the prime ministers of Portugal, Austria and Holland, all of whom expressed support for their fellow socialist, Tony Blair, during last week's Labour Party conference.
After telling the London Times a few hours earlier that Britain should "stay at the table" in the EU, Major declined to attend the dinner of salmon with fresh dill and prime Irish beef, on the pretext of an early morning television appearance. The prime ministers dined upstairs at Dublin Castle, under Waterford chandeliers in the French Rococo style drawing room.
Foreign ministers were treated to the same fare, but downstairs in the Eireann Room.
Protocol for such occasions can be tricky. The Taoiseach, the European Commission President, Jacques Santer, and the Finnish and French presidents were given the Irish ranking at table, and in the school photograph taken to commemorate the summit.
"They are like children," said the Irish official responsible for lining the 15 leaders up for the photographers. "You have to tell them where to stand. They like to be led occasionally."
