All Aboard for the New Europe

 

Remember when Europe was just Europe? When it meant a trans-Atlantic crossing, a weekend in London to see the changing of the guard and the Harrods food halls, then to Paris for the clothes and the perfumes, Vienna for the opera and the Sacher torte, Rome for the Pope, and then back with a load of booty and a vague feeling of having seen the land of your (or probably someone else's) ancestors? Simple days, long gone. If you want to know Europe -- really know Europe -- it's not so easy anymore. Now it's no longer just a holiday destination. Europe is a community.

They say it was Americans who invented Europe, the Old World they needed to set against their New World. From before the Revolution they looked back across the Atlantic waves, joining all the fragmentary pieces into a single entity. But if Americans knew Europe was Europe, and Europeans Europeans, the Europeans themselves didn't. They thought they were Bavarians or Serbs, Athenians or Cornishmen, Glaswegians or Nicois. They liked their local beer and cheese, their local dialect and architecture -- and they didn't much like anyone else's. If you lived in Graz, you knew the men in Klagenfurt were simple, their women unclean, their food inedible. And Klagenfurt was a mere 60 miles away. Imagine the feelings about the citizens of some other country .

So if Americans feel confused about the New Europe, a lot of New Europeans do too. Disagreement about how New European the British are prepared to be cost Margaret Thatcher her job. Her more soothing successor, John Major, talks of playing his proper part in Europe, but no one in Britain is sure what it is. Murmurs of anti-European dissent sound in the pubs of London, the trattorias of Italy, the tavernas of Greece.

But like it or not, Europe is in motion. More and more, it is beginning to feel like an international federation, with a political vision, a new future, a role in history as what Mikhail Gorbachev has called "the common European home." In 1992 it is all supposed to come together in a single barrier-free market, the first stage toward yet greater union. So how did it happen? How does it work? And how and where do I find it? What Is the New Europe?

It all began in the chaos after 1945, when yet another European Great War ended, and a new cold one started. In the climate of postwar destruction, the dream of a united Europe revived among far-sighted political figures, especially in France and Germany. The Americans helped, with the Marshall Plan, NATO, and eventually the McDonald's hamburger, the universal currency of eating. The Russians helped too, slicing an Iron Curtain right down through the continent. Starting with common economic problems and common security needs, Europe became a hope, an ideal, the foundation of a new stability, and eventually of a new prosperity.

The progress was not simple. The New Europe we now know, or more probably don't know, was born in 1957 with the Treaty of Rome -- as important in European history as the Congress of Vienna or the Diet of Worms. "Europe" -- a.k.a. the European Economic Community (E.E.C.) or more properly nowadays the European Community (E.C.) -- began as a trading club of six key nations (now known as the Original Six), France, West Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, Belgium and Luxembourg, who tried, often inharmoniously, to harmonize their economic development by creating new European institutions: a parliament, a law, a pattern of trade.

Britain was not one of these countries. As an offshore island enjoying a Special Relationship with the United States, and with a Commonwealth to consider, Britain was not sure it felt European at all. If it did, it was not in the same way as most other Europeans. But it soon took the lead in forming another Europe, which for clarity we had better call Europe 2. This "Europe" -- a.k.a. the European Free Trade Association (E.F.T.A.) -- was forged in the Treaty of Stockholm in 1959, and consisted of Britain, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Switzerland, Austria and Portugal. The E.F.T.A. also tried to harmonize European trade, but on different principles, with different ambitions, and without trying to forge new political institutions. Confused already? It has grown much more complicated since.

In 1973, the British decided they were European in a different way than the different way they first thought; so they left Europe 2 (E.F.T.A.) and joined Europe 1 (the E.C.). Denmark and Ireland also came in, and the Original Six became the New Nine. Europe 2 had lost two of its members, but made up by enrolling Finland and Iceland. Then in 1981 Greece joined the E.C., and in 1986 Spain and Portugal (which was formerly in the E.F.T.A.) came in. So the Six now became the Twelve. That is why there are 12 stars on the blue and yellow European flag that flies at many state occasions and over the buildings in the three main cities -- Brussels, Luxembourg and Strasbourg, France -- in which the E.C. is based.

More will be needed soon. Europe 1 at present covers about half the countries of Europe, but it is likely to grow fast. Some of the E.F.T.A. countries are gradually nosing toward membership. So are some of the newly open countries of what used to be called the Eastern bloc, if they can establish free markets. So are Malta, Cyprus and Turkey. Europe could soon be a very large entity indeed, and some of it not in Europe. The Original Six could well become the 25. And Europe will need a much bigger flag. Where Is the New Europe?

The New Europe is everywhere and nowhere. Think of it as a mega-country a little bit like Switzerland, a confusing democratic federation of states and languages. It is a country with strict regulations, so the noise of a lawnmower should be the same in Munich or Manchester, Aarhus or Alicante. It has its own currency, the European ECU. Its political officials are elected but relatively powerless. Its bureaucrats are the opposite. It has its own capital, or rather several: Brussels, Strasbourg, Luxembourg. This is where its officials and parliamentarians meet, though they often don't, because they're on the train or the plane trying to find the city holding this week's meeting.

The New Europe has its own citizens; many Europeans now are proud to be European. It has its own leader, the President of the European Commission, currently Jacques Delors, a former French Finance Minister and steely Euro-visionary. It has its own elected Parliament (mostly Strasbourg) and its own European Court of Justice (Luxembourg), and both of them are serviced by its own civil-service bureaucracy (mostly Brussels). Everyone agrees that this could be tidied up, but, given national rivalries, only by moving the whole thing out of Europe altogether, perhaps to the Bahamas.

Just like Switzerland, the New Europe is a very pretty country. It has excellent agriculture, and its fields are full of grain, vines and cows, supported by subsidy. That is why there are so many lakes and mountains. Over here you will find the great Beef Mountain, the vast Grain Mountain, the slippery slopes of the Butter Mountain. Over there are the glorious Milk, Olive Oil and Wine Lakes, all the product of European surpluses. But the really big mountain -- the Jungfrau that towers over everything -- is the Paperwork Mountain. For the New Europe is a country with many languages. Nine of them are official, and everything must be translated and copied into each of them. That is why Europe has a tenth language: Euro-bureaucratese, or Eurospeak. How to Speak Eurospeak

It is almost impossible to speak Eurospeak, because it consists almost entirely of acronyms and other abbreviations. The camel is supposed to be an animal designed by a committee. An acronym is a description designed by a committee, and usually to describe another committee. Though it was probably invented in America, the New Europe has brought acronymery to a fine art.

Late last fall Britain, in an unexpected initiative, entered a new patch in the acronymic mine field. The British Treasury took the pound sterling into the E.R.M. of the E.M.S. while trying to avoid E.M.U. by following the route of the hard ECU. The E.R.M. is the Exchange Rate Mechanism, E.M.S. is the European Monetary System, E.M.U. is Economic and Monetary Union, and the ECU is the unit of European currency, still an ideal fiction. As Euro-nyms go, ECU is a good one, because it means European Currency Unit in English and "crown" or "coin" in French. So is Erasmus; it seems right that the European Community Action Scheme for Mobility of University Students should so happily mesh with the name of the great European scholar.

However, to complicate matters, sometimes the acronyms are not the same in different countries. So the French for E.A.G.G.F. (European Agricultural Guidance and Guaranteed Fund) is of course F.E.O.G.A. Often, though, the acronym is a Euro-blessing in disguise. So we thank God for STAR, the Community Program for the Development of Certain Less Favored Regions of the Community by Improving Access to Advanced Telecommunications Facilities. How Important Is the New Europe?

Very. There is no doubt that coordination within Europe is accelerating fast. Even the British agree with that. In an ominous message for Thatcher, her Deputy Prime Minister, Sir Geoffrey Howe, announced that "the next European train is about to leave the station, for an uncertain destination." It was now for Britain to decide whether it wished to be in the driver's cab or the rear compartment, and whether it should move forward or backward. Actually, the British have played a distinctive role in Europe by trying to do both (and if you think that is impossible, you've never traveled by British Rail). Sir Geoffrey's speech spelled the beginning of the end for Thatcher, who had no real wish to see the train move at all.

Just now the European train is indeed driving in two different directions. One is toward the European Superstate, the idea of a Federated Europe being hurried forward by Jacques Delors, who seeks a common currency, a common political agenda, a common European bank, a common super-parliament. For the Euro-dreamers, the single market of 1992 is just one small step toward the United States of Europe.

The other destination is a looser pan-European federation of nation states, including the many new ones applying for entry. Europe could be a complex and mixed linkage of nations and regions from Shannon to the Urals, spreading its trade, its free-market ideals, its political expectations and no doubt its acronyms internationally inside a weaker ring-fence. Europe has several possible futures, all in contention, as its many and various committees, its parliament, its commission and its inter-government conferences meet in its various capitals to consider and argue about the European promise.

Meanwhile Europe remains, for all its uncertainties, an object of wonder. It is, just now, a heady mixture of dreams and realities. In practical terms, it is a Parliament that meets fairly often but does very little. It is a Council of Ministers drawn from all the member countries who meet less often but do rather more. It is a Court of Law that passes legislation on matters from women's rights to the size of a beer glass. But above all, Europe is Berlaymont.

Berlaymont is a four-legged building in downtown Brussels, parts of which have been closed because its asbestos pollution violates European regulations. It is also home to many of the 16,000 or more bureaucrats who actually run the European Community. Overseen by 17 commissioners appointed by the member states, but loyal only to Europe itself, the European Commission tries to administer a unity that does not yet exist. Stacked in complicated hierarchies, from Commissioners and Directors-General to Junior Assistant Administrative Assistants and humble stagiaires, or bureaucratic beginners, the new Euro-chiks do what bureaucrats always do. They compete and rival, regulate and legislate, administering powers larger than those of any nation-state and a budget that would be the envy of any small country.

Franz Kafka would feel at home in Berlaymont, if Franz Kafka ever felt at home anywhere. Not since the age of the Chinese mandarins or the late days of the Austro-Hungarian empire have so many unelected officials in so many file-bound offices been given such a chance to shape and administer the future of a large piece of the world -- making or breaking its farmers and industrialists, shaping the ways of world trade, opening or closing educational, cultural, political and economic opportunities.

No wonder that Berlaymont sometimes feels like a great medieval court. Here plenipotentiaries call, priests and solicitors come to plead, courtiers come to make their careers, fixers come to fix, and framers to frame. Berlaymont is a babble of languages, a dovecote of translators, an ambush of ambassadors, a manipulation of ministers, a shuttle of diplomats, a lobby of lawyers, an aviary of advisers, a polish of chauffeurs. It's the half-finished home of an idea still in the making. But the European train really has left the station; and it's gathering speed fast.

 

Published in February 3, 1991

By Malcolm Bradbury

On The New York Times On The Web

Copyright 1998 The New York Times Company

 

http://www.nytimes.com/books/01/04/01/specials/bradbury-neweuro.html

 

 

Other interesting articles written by Bradbury: [Next] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11]

 

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