The cr
oss-channel brawl that has broken out between London mayor Boris Johnson and a French central bank official has everything a British tabloid editor loves: colorful protagonists, money, national pride and a favorite adversary – the French.
While it’s tempting to read the story as a blunder by the French, it’s a calculated move, and all the players in this drama know their parts and are following a well-thumbed script.
The first volley in the conflict was fired by Christian Noyer, the influential governor of the Banque de France, who said the Eurozone’s finance center should not remain “offshore” in London. In an interview, he told the Financial Times:
“We’re not against some business being done in London, but the bulk of the business should be under our control. That’s the consequence of the choice by the UK to remain outside the euro area.”
Boris Johnson, whose retorts have enlivened many an otherwise dull news column, wasted no time firing back, accusing the French of “a naked attempt to steal London’s financial crown.”
Of course, Noyes only said publicly what many French (and German) officials have been saying privately for years. They long have envied London’s status over Paris and Frankfurt as a financial hub, and the bragging rights, high paying jobs and fine restaurants that go with it. That Noyes made his remarks to the FT – the very heart of the UK financial establishment – suggests he wanted to stir things up.
The remarks by Noyes were meant to pressure the UK government ahead of meetings this week in Brussels on bank regulation. Rules that would give more power to the European Central Bank (where Noyes sits on the governing council) worry UK bankers and government officials, who fear the changes could diminish London’s standing in global banking.
For his part, Johnson can be expected to defend is town’s biggest industry, and since he has no role in negotiations with European leaders, he’s free to blast away at them in ways finance minister George Osborne or prime minister David Cameron cannot. His vivid language (‘stealing the crown’) drew on a rich history of conflict between France and England dating back to Shakespeare’s day. One can almost hear the sharpening of pikes and the stringing of longbows.
The communication lesson here is that a few choice words can be enormously powerful, especially if they appeal to well-established beliefs, and that playing into a familiar narrative is the easiest route to a headline in the morning newspaper.