Finding A European Narrative

The 50th Anniversary of the Treaty of Rome has been and gone – and if you weren’t watching all that closely, you may well have missed it. For since the rejection of the EU constitution by Holland and France (and let’s face it, they were only going to be the first countries to reject it), there has been a general malaise in terms of European politics. In short, no-one seems to know where they want to go. Are ever-closer union and the expansion of the EU to include the Balkan countries (and possibly Turkey) really compatible strategies? Can open-border policies realistically hold when the EU contains such a wide variety and number of different economies? If closer union is to happen, on what terms can it possibly happen? No-one has any answers to these questions, and until some kind of consensus is found to deal with these issues, the EU is going to give the appearance of floundering; of lacking any sense of purpose or effectiveness.

Timothy Garton Ash is hoping to find a solution to this malaise. Earlier this year, in Prospect, he wrote:

We don’t know why we have an EU or what it’s good for. So we urgently need a new narrative.I propose that our new story should be woven from six strands, each of which represents a shared European goal. The strands are freedom, peace, law, prosperity, diversity and solidarity. None of these goals is unique to Europe, but most Europeans would agree that it is characteristic of contemporary Europe to aspire to them. Our performance, however, often falls a long way short of the aspiration. That falling short is itself part of our new story and must be spelled out. For today’s Europe should also have a capacity for constant self-criticism. …

By their nature, these goals can not fully be attained (there is no perfect peace or freedom, on earth at least), but a shared striving towards them can itself bind together a political community.

The problem is that freedom, peace, and law are all noble goals, but no-one would reasonably disagree with them. Diversity and solidarity may be slightly more contentious, but not by much. Certainly proposing a European narrative to be built around such abstract concepts will not work – for they need some practical manifestation if they are to have a real hold over the popular imagination. People will march for freedom, but only if they are experiencing or fearing oppression. People will march for peace, but only if there is a threat of war.

For in the absence of an “other” against which abstract ideals can be measured, those ideals those their meaning and their power. In a world without war, peace becomes normal. In a world where everyone is governed by the rule of law, the inestimable privilege of such a state of affairs becomes obscured. If a community is to be really successful, then it needs to have some sense of why it is different from others - not just why its members belong together.

This is not to say that abstract concepts are not powerful. History, and our own experience, shows us just how powerful they can be. Why else would America still rally behind a call for “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”? France’s national identity is founded on three concepts that are impossible to pin down. And yet these principles have proved enduring adhesives, over large and diverse areas, for two centuries.

Why should this be the case? Because in both cases, there was a coherent narrative in which the principles were made intelligible. Life and liberty means a hell of a lot more when you have been fighting a mercenary army raised to uphold colonial rule over you. Equality has a real tangible meaning when you have been denied power thanks to a political system that entrenched power in the hands of the King, the nobles, and the clergy. There simply isn’t a similar mythology for Europe. After all, the driving impetus behind the EU was the desire to make sure that tearing the continent apart through war was a memory consigned to a distant past. Yet while a dogged determination and a mantra of “never again” can influence decision-making, it will never become a defining, unifying bond between communities.

When the Euro was first launched, the banknotes were (rightly) derided for their asinine symbolism. In trying to find a design that would be suitable for all the member nations of the eurozone, the ECB managed to inspire no-one. The official explanation for the designs, found on the ECB website, is quite apt:

The bridges, which appear on the reverse side of the banknotes, are modelled on the architectural style of each period rather than on specific structures. If it were easy to recognise particular bridges, then certain banknotes would inevitably be associated with a specific country. Therefore, the bridges merely represent a period in European history by using a stylised representation. Bridges like the ones depicted can be found in many parts of Europe. The same also applies to the windows and gateways that appear on the banknotes.

Nothing specific that can invoke a thought of ‘Europe’, then. Just a series of bland, nondescript designs. What sort of Europe does that celebrate? Not one that will ever get people to come together with a shared identity, with a shared sense of identity. If European identity can only be distilled down to something so bland, then the EU’s entire purpose is surely doomed.

But this set me thinking. Is there anything iconic that really makes people of the EU? If the banknotes were to depict people, which figures could be considered truly great Europeans? For all that I have my own European heroes – Charlemagne and Gustav Stresemann, to name but two – any choice will most likely have a regional bias, and run the risk of treading on many toes. It is perhaps telling that of rejected designs for Euro banknotes that contained depictions of people, I was unable to identify many fo the figures (although that may have been the point, I suppose).

For the fact is that outside of a most general sense, the EU does not share a common history. And the expansion to the east has diluted what common heritage there is still further. Garton Ash, in Prospect, wrote that European conceptions of freedom were set against experiences of oppression.

Europe’s history over the last 65 years is a story of the spread of freedom. In 1942, there were only four perilously free countries in Europe: Britain, Switzerland, Sweden, Ireland. By 1962 most of western Europe was free, except for Spain and Portugal. In 1982 the Iberian peninsula had joined the free, as had Greece, but most of what we then called eastern Europe was under communist dictatorship. Today, among countries that may definitely be accounted European, there is only one nasty little authoritarian regime left—Belarus. Most Europeans now live in liberal democracies. That has never before been the case; not in 2,500 years. And it’s worth celebrating.

Indeed it is worth celebrating. But it is also worth noting that the experience of freedom is remarkably different in each of the member states. For Britons and the French, it is seen as a birthright, part of the very nation itself. France’s freedom, of course, was won in no small part due to the assistance of foreign nations. Germany’s was not so much won as imposed following a humiliating national defeat. I’m not suggesting here that Germany is, or was, a nation of rabid Nazis. But it is vital to remember that there was a negative and a positive psychological impact of freedom there. Comparing the fascist regimes of the Iberian peninsula to the communist dictatorships of Eastern Europe, moreover, is a somewhat lazy comparison. In Spain and Portugal, dictatorship rested on a national level; in Eastern Europe, it was the guiding hand of a foreign power that was responsible for communist oppression. We may all agree that the fact Europe lives under liberal democracy now is a good thing. But the concept of freedom means such different things to different people – and it is only as an abstract generalisation, rather than a shared feeling of the heart, that it can truly be said to unite Europeans.

I am reluctant to end this post on such a negative conclusion – that creating a European identity for the support of the EU is an impossible task. One, at the very least, that is beyond the powers of any top-down model to create. So I will posit this theory in conclusion – that while there may be no overarching European narrative, this is not necessarily a bad thing. The excesses of the European Union, the complex web of bodies that comprises its varied authorities, the seemingly mindless regulation, is at heart caused because the bureaucrats cling to the false notion that there is such a thing as a European in theory, whilst having to recognise national identity in practice.

This would then, in turn, lead to a concentration of activity on a European level on matters where supranational authority is most effective and necessary. The disagreeable spectacle of Europe’s leaders convening at conferences pretending they have common goals when their actions show the unequivocal opposite could be put to an end. As far as trade goes, it would mean the dawning of a realisation that while having common standards of measurement and quality is necessary for free trade to work most effectively, the regulation of the height of rocking horses is nothing other than counterproductive.

People can respect the need for supranational authority without coming to love it. Few would say that the United Nations rouses stirring feelings when they hear the mention of the name. Yet the principle of UN agreements being binding on its signatories is readily agreed to. So it could be in Europe too, where people could accept the idea of basic human rights across the EU, where the need to make decisions on matters pertaining to asylum and the environment on a larger scale than present was accepted – without any fear that there was a secret plan to erode national identity.

Only the most foolish, swivel-eyed loons could seriously believe that any EU country was Better Off Out of the European Union. While the trade of most European countries remains with members of the EU, nations will find themselves subject to complying with EU standards even if they have no say in the matter. But that doesn’t mean that the status quo is truly worth preserving. Realising that there can be no central European narrative that is accepted by a continent will be productive in its own way – forcing politicians and Eurocrats alike to recognise that efforts should be focused on the possible. For while the EU keeps charging down the blind alley of trying to define a unifying project, it will only appear floundering and weak. Just like any attempt to pin down exactly what it is that holds the people of Europe together.