Founding Fathers.(Convention on the Future of Europe)

The Delaware Indians called him wegh-wu-law-mo-end, the "man who tells the truth." That quality seems to have been as rare in 18th-century American politics as it is today. Which perhaps explains how Charles Thomson, an obscure Pennsylvanian with a reputation for blunt- spokenness, came to be secretary to the Colonial assemblies that eventually produced the United States Constitution of 1787, diligently recording everything he heard and saw. Years later a fellow Founding Father suggested he write a memoir. No, Thomson replied, "I ought not. For I shall contradict all histories of the great events and shew by my account of men, motives and measures that we are wholly indebted to providence for its successful issue."

As latter-day founding fathers gather in Brussels for their grandly named Convention on the Future of Europe, we would do well to keep in mind Thomson's humility--and his skepticism about history and human nature. They come to ponder weighty questions. What is Europe? Should its guiding vision be a "superstate" that counterbalances a hyperpowerful United States, as a dwindling cadre of so-called Euro- fanatics still believe? Or should it be a more traditional club of nation-states--favored by a growing phalanx of Euroskeptics--that comes together, to a greater or lesser degree, depending on the issue? All agree that Europe suffers from a "deficit" of democracy. It must become more accountable to its people, less remote and autocratic, they say. But how: Should there be direct elections of a European president, a bicameral European legislature? And how should power be shared among members, so that not every nation in the growing community has a veto over others? As in America so long ago, all this is to be debated, agreed to--and enshrined in a constitution.

No wonder Valery Giscard d'Estaing, the French uber-meister of this continental extravaganza, evokes Philadelphia 1787, with all its historical resonance. European leaders compete to outdo one another in hyperbole. Europe is at "a crossroads," they trumpet, another "defining moment." Yet is it? Two hundred and some-odd years ago, on the less civilized side of the Atlantic, the rights of man were at issue: Locke, Hume and Montesquieu, not to mention Madison and Hamilton. Where is today's grand thematic? For the past 50 years, Europe has perfected its original raison d'etre: peace and ever-growing prosperity. In the past decade alone it has taken great leaps--union at Maastricht, the euro and, soon, expansion to the east, bringing the old 15 to 25 or 28. You might think the next era would be devoted to consolidation, to doing the myriad large and small things needed to make these ambitious steps work. Instead, Europeans seem to feel they need even more of what George Bush the elder once called the "vision thing."

Pardon postmodern Thomsons for scoffing. As the grand event kicks off this week--accelerating after the elections in France (April) and Germany (September) and continuing through the end of next year--a certain skepticism must be expected. From afar, most especially in Washington, the constitutional confabulations resemble nothing so much as another round of Eurodithering--the seemingly endless tweaking of the vast Eurocracy known as "Brussels." America wrestles with Evil while Europe frets over French farmers. What better proof of the continent's irrelevance in a new and dangerous world? If Europe can be likened to a car, said British Foreign Secretary Jack Straw last week, "it does still seem to spend an awful lot of time in the garage."

It doesn't help that the affair begins in farce. Even as he dons the periwig of Philadelphia, Giscard d'Estaing haggles behind the scenes over his emoluments--how much he should be paid for his 11 days a month in dour Brussels, with what perks for himself and his entourage. Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi will be there, acting out as is his wont, along with his political ally Gianfranco Fini--a right- winger ...