Charlemagne: Of head and heart

Charlemagne retires, in some confusion

REGULAR readers may notice a new clarity and vigour in the thinking of the Charlemagne column when it returns in September. The present author is returning to London, after almost five years in Brussels, and a fresh pair of eyes is arriving from Washington, DC.

It is a good time both to be leaving and to be arriving. This summer has been marked by perhaps the most dramatic rebuff to the European project since its foundation: the rejection by French and Dutch voters of the first-ever unified, written constitution for the European Union. The French and Dutch referendums seem to mark the end of a great wave of European unification that set off with the construction of a proper single market in the 1980s, and continued through the creation of a single currency and a common foreign policy in the 1990s. A new and unpredictable period is opening - hence the past few weeks' exaggerated talk of the EU being in deep crisis.

Your correspondent arrived in Brussels as something of a Eurosceptic. The essential argument of the sceptics is that it is a mistake to try to create a political union in Europe, on the basis of very shallow popular consent. Most Europeans feel much more ultimate loyalty to their nation-state than they do to Europe. Opinion polls tell you this; so does simple observation of daily life. Europeans speak many different languages, watch different television programmes, respond to different politicians and draw meaning from different traditions and memories. Of course, they also share many common interests and values, which can form the basis for fruitful co-operation, not least within the EU. But push political integration too far, and you will spark a backlash. That is what a Eurosceptic would have predicted in 2001. And that is what seems to have happened with the French and Dutch votes.

Lest this sound intolerably smug, however, your correspondent should admit that he leaves Brussels feeling more confused than when he arrived. That is because dry analysis is never quite enough when dealing with the EU. Most people who feel strongly about the subject start with a gut feeling - from which flow their subsequent arguments about such topics as the merits of a European single currency or the need for harmonised court procedures. Charlemagne's problem is that over the course of nearly five years in Brussels, head and heart have begun to diverge. The head still says that it is wrong to pursue deeper political integration in Europe; the heart is more sympathetic to the idea, or at least to its advocates. The head greeted the French rejection of the constitution with a feeling of relief that a bad proposal had been shot down; but the heart sank at pictures of the far-right National Front celebrating wildly, while educated, liberal internationalists were struck dumb with shock.

Why this sliver of sympathy for the European ideal? Partly, it is a matter of exposure to non-British views of the future of Europe. For the British, Europe has always been a matter of the head, rather than the heart. They joined the then EEC for essentially economic reasons, and have traditionally regarded the aspiration for political union in Europe as silly, if not downright sinister. In 1990, when Nicholas Ridley, a cabinet minister in the Thatcher government, was forced to resign after likening the contemporary German aspiration for political union in Europe to the ambitions of the Nazis, he was probably speaking for more Britons than liberal opinion cared to acknowledge.

After living in Brussels, however, it can be confirmed that most advocates of political union are not, in fact, neo-Nazis. On the contrary, European federalists tend to be highly idealistic. They are usually driven by the belief that political union is the best way of ensuring lasting peace and prosperity on the continent. Given Europe's blood-soaked history, that is a noble aspiration. And while peace in western Europe can now probably be taken for granted, the enlargement of the EU to take in countries from the former Soviet block - and, perhaps, to admit the Balkans and Turkey over the next decade - has given a new validity to the EU's original mission. The ambition to “join Europe” has been crucial in helping to cement stability and prosperity in the post-Soviet states of central and eastern Europe. For somebody used to the jaded anti-Europeanism of modern Britain, it was both impressive and educational to witness the appeal of Brussels to the new democracies in the region.

Dreams and reality

Support for enlargement of the EU does not, of course, necessarily mean support for political union. Indeed, many Britons like enlargement precisely because it has made a political union less likely. All the same, the success of enlargement is an important corrective to two of the emotions that often underpin Euroscepticism: a quiet rejoicing in any setback for the EU, and an impatience with the idea that the notion of “Europe” can exercise a positive, emotional pull.

Of course the European ideal also has less attractive aspects, such as the streak of anti-Americanism that often lurks beneath the surface. Brussels officials also easily confuse their own interests with those of humanity at large. But even Eurocrats can be unfairly abused. Doubtless there is scheming and corruption in Brussels. But your average Eurocrat is mild-mannered, well-educated, multilingual and committed to the idea of international co-operation. If all Europeans were as cosmopolitan as the average EU civil servant, building a political union in Europe would be a doddle. The trouble is that the Eurocrats are creating a political system that makes perfect sense to them - but seems impossibly remote to the average stay-at-home German, Pole or Briton. That is why the rejection of the constitution by French and Dutch voters feels like the end of the dream of political union. It was, in some ways, a beautiful dream. But, in the end, it is better to live in the real world.

Commentary feature in which journalist, who has written the weekly Charlemagne feature in The Economist for the last five years, discusses the challenges facing the European Union. He says he started as a mild Eurosceptic and his head still thinks that political union is a 'beautiful dream'. However, his experiences of the last five years has made his heart more sympathetic to those who aspire after union. He concludes however 'But, in the end, it is better to live in the real world'