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CHAPTER 2

MANIFESTATIONS OF EUROFEDERALISTS’ PARADISE DREAM

According to George Soros, the European Union was, in its boom phase, what the psychoanalyst David Tuckett calls a “fantastic object”—unreal but immensely attractive, a desirable goal firing people’s imagination, invested with extraordinary powers and vested with emotions (2011). The boom phase according to many did not last long. Agnes Heller, back in 1988, claimed that the time had come for the funeral oration of the European dream. Among the symptoms of Europe’s deadly illness, she mentioned that the promised land had already ceased to exist as a museum, as a leader, and as a powerful source of inspiration for the rest of the world and that it lacked a creative future-oriented social phantasy. She pointed to the possibility of Europe becoming again “the initiator of a new imaginary institution of signification,” a completely new discourse, as highly unlikely (Heller 1988: 158). At the same time, she also contended that no prologue could be written to a dream and that something that had never lived could not die. There is no corpse to be buried because there is no “natural” European identity; the European project is rootless because it lacks a history; European culture does not exist, either, because there are no European stories and legends about gods, demigods, and heroes transmitted from one generation to the next. She did not omit to remind us that what had never existed could still one day come to life. Those sharing the “European dream” certainly cannot write an epilogue; for them the dream still might come true (Heller 1988: 159).

As the treaty establishing the European Economic Community declares, the aim of the European integration process is “to lay the foundations of an ever closer union among the peoples of Europe” (1957). Notwithstanding the official denominations such as “common market,” “internal market,” association of sovereign states, etc., the mission of Europe’s “founding fathers” has always been to create a deep political union, an intimate “European family.” Ingrid Kylstad correctly argues that “The idea of Europe shares with Christianity the idea of a redemptive end, an end characterized by unity” (2010: 5).

The flourishing of the myth of a federal, united (and idyllic) Europe can be traced back to the post-1918 period. For the Austro-Hungarian intellectual Richard von Coudenhove-Kalergi, with the end of the First World War, the moment had come to finally give birth to the centuries-old “object of longing” (Villanueva: 2005). He urged the creation of a peaceful, united, and prosperous Europe in the form of a pan-European union of free nations, based on the Constitution of the United States of Europe, following the pattern of the United States of America (1926). His (anticommunist) Europe was to be bound together by Christian religion, European science, art, and culture. In 1929 Aristide Briand, French prime minister and honorary president of the Pan-Europa Movement (founded by Coudenhove-Kalergi), delivered a speech before the Assembly of the League of Nations proposing the idea of a federation of European nations; in 1931 French politician Édouard Herriot published The United States of Europe; and in 1933 Julien Benda penned An Address to the European Nation. In the 1930s and during the Second World War, several Italian anti-Fascist thinkers dreamed about a constitutional federation of Europe (Delzell 1960). Luigi Einaudi, Carlo Sforza, Carlo Rosselli, Altiero Spinelli, Ernesto Rossi, and Eugenio Colorni were among those who talked and wrote about the necessity to create a United States of Europe and launched concrete initiatives such as the European Federal Movement (Movimento Federalista Europeo). Others believed that only after the end of World War II was the moment ripe to accomplish the dream. Speaking on 19 September 1946 “about the tragedy of Europe,” Winston Churchill warned Europeans about the possible reappearance of the phantoms of the past—the dark ages “in all their cruelty and squalor … may still return”—but he also believed that there was a remedy that “would as if by a miracle transform the whole scene, and … make all Europe, or the greater part of it, as free and as happy as Switzerland” (1946). His pharmakon consisted in the re-creation of the European Family, in the construction of “a kind of United States of Europe,” a new home where reborn Europeans could dwell.

Despite the several cleavages dividing federalists, most were united by the core fantasy, inspired by the same paradise myth—the vision of a new mythical European community modeled on the famous American archetype. Soon, already in the 1950s and 1960s, however, the more modest model of functionalism began to replace the grand narrative of the federalist imaginary. Return to paradise still remained the final goal, but the journey was imagined as long and gradual (albeit still one-directional and teleological in nature). There was a widespread belief that integration in one area would provoke spillover effects and lead to integration in other areas, forming a chain of transformations at the end of which a political federal model would automatically emerge. The initial intergovernmental cooperation would yield to supranational cooperation, national identities would cease to evoke strong attachments, a strong (both cultural and civic) European identity would prevail, the EU would again become not just a legitimate organization but also an intimate community for members and an object of desire for potential members.

Starting from the 1970s, European cultural policy (officially the respect for cultural and linguistic diversity and promotion of a common cultural heritage) came to be seen as one of the key pieces missing in the puzzle, one of the last trials before completing the project of palingenesis through which the European family (with new Europeans) was to be born. Since then, transnational institutions have been active in developing the various dimensions of a “European cultural policy,” hoping to boost people’s awareness, facilitate the internalization of a “European cultural identity,” and ensure that Europe occupies its desired place in Europeans’ hearts, minds, and fantasies. According to Patrizia Isabelle Nanz, what prompted the EU to face its legitimacy through identity politics was the incapability of solving the problem of its “democratic deficit” through encouraging political participation in its institutions by means of institutional changes (2010: 286). For Stråth, in a period when the legitimacy of the European integration project was widely questioned, “identity replaced integration as the buzzword for the European unification project” (2010b: 385–86).

It was back in 1973 when the member states of the European Communities decided to pen a document on European identity. For them, what makes “the European Identity” original is

the diversity of cultures within the framework of a common European civilization, the attachment to common values and principles, the increasing convergence of attitudes to life, the awareness of having specific interests in common and the determination to take part in the construction of a United Europe. (European Council 1973)

The European identity was portrayed as a necessary element in the “dynamic construction of a United Europe,” in particular in the framing of a “genuinely European foreign policy.” The purpose of the Tindemans Report (published two years later, in 1975) was more general; it proposed measures aimed at transforming the “technocrats’ Europe” into a “People’s Europe” by bringing Europe close to its citizens and kindling the imagination of its disenchanted populations. Cultural policy received an official recognition at the Stuttgart European Council meeting: there was a call for a “closer co-operation on cultural matters, in order to affirm the awareness of a common cultural heritage as an element in the European identity” and improve upon “the level of … information on Europe’s history and culture so as to promote a European awareness” (European Council 1983: 25, 28).

The “Adonnino Report,” launched in 1985, aimed to adopt measures to strengthen and promote the European Community’s identity and its image both for its citizens and for the rest of the world, thus contributing to the “realization of an ever closer union among the peoples of Europe.” It therefore proposed: the foundation of a European Academy of Science, Technology and Art, an institution with international influence able “to highlight the achievements of European science and the originality of European civilization in all its wealth and diversity”; the creation of community symbols such as a flag and an anthem; the formation of European sports teams; the confirmation of 9 May as Europe Day; the use of European stamps; the minting of a European coinage (the ECU); the launching of a Euro-lottery, “to make Europe come alive for the Europeans”; and the setting-up of a center displaying European achievements and the common heritage, backed up by a collection of documents and works relating thereto (Adonnino 1985: 22, 24). The publication of the “Adonnino Report” was the first explicit step toward selling the Community. As a result, the marketing of Europe as a kind of “brand product” became the key strategy through which the Community sought to tackle its problem of image and communication. These initiatives contradicted the official rhetoric that portrayed European integration as a “natural process.” Furthermore, the artificial creation and promotion of European symbols, starting in the mid-1980s, as part of the so-called “A People’s Europe” project is justly portrayed by Chris Shore as a form of (illegitimate) ideological indoctrination by European institutions (2000, 2001).

Pascal Fontaine’s A Citizen’s Europe (1991) expressed conviction about the irreversibility of the process of European unification and its metamorphosis from a purely technocratic process into a “profoundly humanistic enterprise”:

The goals of “A people’s Europe” have been achieved. Who would fail to recognize the European flag symbolizing European unification? Who would not feel moved when listening to Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, the future anthem of a united Europe? Who does not enjoy following the “European Community” sign in airport arrival halls and possessing a uniform passport, and of course, “What European would not feel at home visiting Europe’s high spots of culture and savoir-vivre?” (Fontaine 1991: 44)

These and other symbolic measures are not purely decorative according the document. They fire most Europeans’ imaginations; they are similar to national symbols that represent state sovereignty and “testify to the substantial progress made by an idea which has now been transformed from myth into reality” (Fontaine 1991: 7). What proves the triumph of the EC’s cultural policy, asserts the author, is the emergence of Homo europeus. To increase the number of “new Europeans,” citizens must be enlightened through public information and consciousness-raising programs; they all need to gain awareness of the positive aspects of European integration and then be ready to “push ahead,” to leave behind the “hamstrung and impotent” community and create a new powerful one, based on a single currency, “the most visible sign of the unity and power of Europe” (22). Bearing in mind Jacques Delors’s comment—“nobody falls in love with a growth rate” or a single market—the document calls for the need to make sure that a “people’s Europe” exists in Europeans’ hearts (23, 40). To this end, it demands more investment in the use of the magic instruments of television, cinema, and videos that transmit culture through images capable of shaping citizens’ mindset day by day.

A year later, in 1992, the Maastricht Treaty conferred to the European Community prerogatives in the realm of cultural policy. According to Article 128, “The Community shall contribute to the flowering of the cultures of the member states, while respecting their national and regional diversity and at the same time bringing the common cultural heritage to the fore” (Council & Commission of the European Communities 1992: 48). The Treaty formally enabled the organization to intervene and propose measures in the fields of education, youth, and culture. As a result, in order to promote awareness of the European integration project, education and training programs (Erasmus, Leonardo, Tempus, and Socrates) were launched to reinforce the “European dimension” in educational discourse.

The document most revealing of the fantasies underlying European federalists’ palingenetic agenda is entitled Reflection on Information and Communication Policy of the European Community (De Clercq 1993). Officially, it was conceived as a contribution to the debate on the present and future of Europe in the period of the adoption of the Maastricht Treaty and as a response to citizens’ growing perplexity about the image of the European community. From this document’s diagnosis the reader can learn that the community is sick because its members are questioning the worthiness of the “good project” (i.e., European construction and integration), because there is little feeling of belonging to Europe. The causes of the illness are to be found in the EC’s failure to communicate to the citizens the “good project” in a relevant and persuasive way (so that everyone can understand and appreciate the benefits of a united Europe). The attempt to “sell the ‘wrong product”’ (i.e., the Maastricht Treaty), the lack of clarity about what must be communicated to whom and why, the absence of a clear and plain message with precise stimuli able to guarantee the desired reactions, and the failure to make a long story short are listed as factors contributing to the fiasco of trying to engrain European identity in peoples’ minds.

To build public awareness and approval of the European Union and to help win back credibility and trust in European institutions, a new communication and information strategy was proposed that would take into account citizens’ needs, hopes, and preoccupations. Bearing in mind that perhaps the deepest hope is return to maternal womb—the most heartfelt desire, especially in times of crisis and flux, relates to the prospect of enjoying again the idyll of primordial paradise—the De Clercq-led expert group came to the conclusion that European institutions “must be brought close to the people, implicitly evoking the maternal, nurturing care of ‘Europa’ for all her children” (De Clercq 1993: 9). Rather than offering more information, fewer electrifying and warm messages are needed to excite, motivate, move, and change the attitude of people (10). The Commission can launch these warm messages only if it possesses a “human face” and turns into a sympathetic, warm, and caring maternal figure that can guarantee the (physical and psychological) well-being of the citizens of Europe (15). While in the 1970s and 1980s, the goal was to bring European institutions closer to citizens, with De Clerq the mission was more ambitious—they had to exist together; they needed to form one inseparable dyad, reestablishing the perfect primordial unity:

Inherent in the notion of Union are the concepts of solidarity, harmony, common action. In human and personal terms, these can be expressed in the single concept “Together”. This is not just an adverb defining the relationship necessary for achieving objectives; it is also an imperative, a rallying call for action: “Together!” (De Clercq 1993: 14)

“Togetherness” became the new symbolic dogma, the inspirational credo that was supposed to appeal to the emotions, the common sense, to the hearts and minds of European citizens, and “involve us all in the great enterprise of building Europe” (22). “Mother Europe must protect her children”—narrates the document—so that the “European way of life,” the European heritage based on human rights, tolerance, democracy, and savoir-vivre, and the European culture “make us the envy of the world” (24). The star that was meant to show direction during Europeans’ journey back to the maternal womb is a “billboard” fabricated by experts of American marketing strategy. It suggests the promotion of the European Union as a “good product” (13), the positioning of the “good product” in the minds of the people as “the largest democratic, socio-economic, and political entity in the world,” and the selling of the European Union to target audiences. The document emphasizes the need to call on board PR experts to launch “total and continuous” programs covering television, radio, and press relations, editorial support, advertising, public relations, direct marketing, public speaking, interviews, visits by special-interest groups, special-issue EC postage stamps, the publication of specific-interest pamphlets, etc., in order to explain European citizenship in “acceptable, motivating terms” (awarding personalized certificates to all newly born babies attesting their birth as citizens of the European Union is mentioned as an example) (De Clercq 1993: 13, 14, 31). The (road)map that identity entrepreneurs were supposed to keep in their hands was the “Europe 99” program, seen as the best means to exploit all the excitement and expectations inherent in the arrival of a new millennium.

De Clercq’s authoritarian approach is evident in his recommendations to accompany every decision taken by the Commission with a binding agreement about the message to communicate and the means for its communication (the theme and scheme of each of the Commission’s programs must obtain the prior approval of the central office of communications). He pinpointed the necessity to start a continuous process of education about Europe at secondary-school stage, including the review of school books and the introduction of a “European dimension” in the study of the past; found a “European house” comprising a library, a museum, and various operational offices to disseminate information; promote European events in the fields of leisure, sports, culture, academia, and food; organize “European weeks” on issues of common concern; award European prizes particularly in areas relating to youth; persuade targeted newscasters and reporters to become “enthusiastic supporters of the cause”; and adopt the “utmost rigour” in formulating the questionnaires when testing citizens’ “European identity” “to ensure that emotional feelings as well as cerebral attitudes are accurately probed”—all of this in order to make Europe “the envied focus of culture, civilization, intellectual life and savoir-vivre in the world” (De Clercq 1993: 27, 35, 37, 33).

The “communication gap” between the European Union and its citizens, which dates back to at least the discussions that had taken place before the referenda about the Maastricht Treaty, has deepened since the rejection of the Constitutional Treaty in 2005. The Action Plan to Improve Communicating Europe (2005a) and the Plan D for Democracy, Dialogue and Debate (2005b) were launched by the European Commission to improve the image of EU institutions and restore public confidence in the European project, as well as to help the emergence of a “European public sphere.” The “White Paper on a European Communication Policy,” published one year later, departed from the belief that there is a sense of alienation from Brussels. The limited, one-sided communication on the part of the Commission had not kept pace with the transformations taking place in the European Union, and as a result prevented citizens both from knowing what was going on and from participating fully in the decision-making process, something “essential to a healthy democracy” (European Commission 2006: 2, 7). The expected overall result of a new communication policy was the enhancement of the public debate in Europe to accelerate the formation of a pan-European political culture with pan-European political groups and foundations. The new approach foresaw the attempt to leave behind the one-way institution-centered communication and opt for a “reinforced” citizen-centered dialogue, moving from a centralized to a more decentralized approach. The new “human-centered” attitude came to the foreground through proposals to give Europe a “human face.” The idea was to put political information in a “human interest” frame to make sure that citizens understand that it is relevant to them personally, and to give a “human face” to the information provided by EU institutions, making sure that the European Union, instead of be-ing faceless, possesses a clear public identity (European Commission 2006: 9).

Today federalists have no doubts—we need to reenact the heroic deeds of Europe’s founding fathers, pass all the necessary trials, and complete the original project of cosmogony by giving birth to the United States of Europe. “We need to breathe new life into the sails of the Greater Europe envisaged by its founding fathers. … We also need to dream about this Greater Europe,” said former European Commission president Jacques Delors (2013). José Manuel Durão Barroso, president of the European Commission between 2004 and 2014, presented his plan for palingenesis in his 2012 State of the Union Address (2012b). He put on the mask of the mythical hero and revealed the details of his (impossible) mission called the “Decisive Deal for Europe.” This decisive deal, which was supposed to transform the long-cherished dream into reality, required the creation of a democratic federation of nation-states—the completion of a deep and genuine economic and union, the development of a European public space, and the reconstruction of the European Parliament as the “house of European democracy.” Barroso used the metaphors of the European family to portray the Eurozone, suggesting that integration into the Eurozone accounts for entering the house (whose construction has not been completed) and becoming a member of the intimate European family. He resounded the idea that the accomplishment of the European dream is threatened by the rise and strengthening of nationalist and populist forces ready to destroy what has been built so far, and he set a “with-or-against” battle line for the dream of the United States of Europe with a (feeble) call to action: “We must not allow the populists and the nationalists to set a negative agenda. … I expect all those who call themselves Europeans to stand up and to take the initiative in the debate” (Barroso 2012b). It is not the USE, which is not real, but rather today’s painful reality “that is not realistic” that cannot continue. The European Commission president portrayed his era gloomily in the interest of suggesting that in order to avoid the final doom, a new beginning is necessary; a new community must emerge on the ruins of the old. He implicitly referenced Europe’s founding fathers and the responsibility of their sons and daughters to reenact the moment of creation: “Previous generations have overcome bigger challenges. Now it is for this generation to show they are up to the task” (Barroso 2012b). Barroso’s moralizing, almost religious tone is even more evident when he introduced the metaphor that “we are all in the same boat.” To stress that the sacred cause of federalism demands not just a feeling of togetherness but also unconditional devotion, he reverberated: “When you are on a boat in the middle of the storm, absolute loyalty is the minimum you demand from your fellow crew members.” He made no secret about the authoritarian nature of his salvation doctrine: in the moral community of true Europeans there is no room for nonbelievers; those who are not ready to internalize the sacred dogmas of palingenetic ultra-Europeanism are excluded from the possibility of redemption.

A month later, Viviane Reding, vice-president of the European Commission, further elaborated on Barroso’s heroic plan. Keen to sweep away all doubts, she dedicated a long speech on “Why We Need a United States of Europe Now” (2012). She prompted her audience (students, often portrayed as “young Europeans,” belonging to the “Erasmus generation”) to embark on a collective journey that would (surely) lead them to salvation, the magic land of the United States of Europe. She encouraged them to join the army of European federalists and be ready to wage a war against those who threaten the realization of (true) Europeans’ paradise dream—“populists” and “nationalists.” In an oratory style reminiscent of marketing experts, she seems to have set as her goal the enlightening of her audience about the qualities of her product. She set out to explicate the meaning and origins of the notion of the United States of Europe and to reveal why politicians betrayed the courage of the founding fathers by abandoning the concept for more than two decades, as well as to explain the reasons behind the recent return of United States of Europe to the political agenda.

What was imagined as a moment of redemption (creation of the European Union through the Maastricht Treaty) turned out to be a moment of disillusionment. While the common currency was conceived, no decisions were taken to proceed toward political and fiscal union; an independent European Central Bank was created, but it was not supported by a European economic government and a common budget. As a result of the trauma suffered, the notion of the United States of Europe ceased to be a “symbolic taboo.” Instead of recognizing the need to come to terms with the loss of the loved object, Reding believes that it is time to revive the vision of a United States of Europe and bring it back to the EU agenda. As a key prophet of “palingenetic ultra-Europeanism,” she sticks to its core doctrines: the creation of a new, federal Europe is the only way to avoid impending catastrophe, to opt for life in this critical period of flux. Like Churchill, Reding asserts that if Europe is to be saved from infinite misery, and indeed from ultimate doom, there must be an act of faith on the part of the European family and an act of oblivion against the painful (and shameful) past. The mistake made at Maastricht must be corrected. The love object cannot be renounced; there is a need to demonstrate that nothing is impossible. The EU can have a banking union, a fiscal union, an economic union, and a political union; it can even turn democratic.

In the voyage toward the European Country of Cockaigne, Victor Hugo’s ideal of the United States of Europe should remain Europeans’ compass. Viviane Reding quotes the words of the “democratic pacifist,” saying: “A day will come when … all you nations of the continent will merge, without losing your distinct qualities and your glorious individuality, in a close and higher unity to form a European brotherhood” (2012). She omits to mention, however, that besides couching his vision of a United States of Europe—“Let us be the same Republic, let us be the United States of Europe, let us be the continental federation, let us be European liberty, let us be universal peace!”—Hugo also expressed his belief in an exceptional Europe. As he emphasized, “the torch of Europe, that is to say of civilization, was first borne by Greece, who passed it on to Italy, who handed it on to France” (Hugo 1862/2007: 100). Greece, Italy, and France are portrayed as “divine, illuminating nations of scouts” that have to hand on the torch of life to Europe: “Books must cease to be exclusively French, Italian, German, Spanish, or English, and become European, I say more, human, if they are to correspond to the enlargement of civilization” (Hugo 1862/2007: 364).

For the prophets of palingenetic ultra-Europeanism, Hugo’s quest for European regeneration will be fulfilled by the Erasmus generation. The former vice-president of the European Commission harbors hopes that these students will see the emergence of the United States of Europe; they, as true (i.e., reborn) Europeans, will gain the right to enter the land of Canaan. At the same time, those who refuse to embark on the journey that leads to federal Europe, those who are not courageous enough to face the challenges and participate actively in the project of sacred metamorphosis, according to Reding, behave like “the devil at the sight of holy water” (2012). Ornamenting her discourse with this metaphor serves to add a spiritual dimension to her political agenda. In her imagination, the USE is the totem that sanctifies all those who come into contact with it; citizens who reject its blessing, refuse to take part in the rite of passage, to undergo through a transcendental metamorphosis a spiritual cleansing, a collective rebirth, and resurrection as true Europeans are necessarily those who made a pact with the devil. Implicit in the use of this image is the perceived superiority of federalists in respect to “others”—the holy water’s power overrides the strength of the devil. The USE possesses a sacred dimension: it helps people pass the threshold between profane and holy; it protects citizens against evil and allows for their adhesion to the community of faith. It is as if she asked her audience to make a signal of faith, to dip their fingers in the holy water and make the sign of the cross to indicate their membership in the community of believers, their adherence to the political religion of European federalism. It is as if she asked the Erasmus generation (which symbolizes, for the supranational elite, the “new Europeans”) to confirm their true European identity in a daily plebiscite, to be ready to renew their baptism and feel as though they are reborn Europeans day by day.

The belief that the United States of Europe represents the right dream to fire Europeans’ imagination, the right political religion to believe in, and that this political soteriology should be spread by leaders using a more poetic (heroic) language was confirmed by Italian prime minister Matteo Renzi. Speaking at the State of the Union in Florence, he launched a call to convince European leaders to abandon “the cold language of technocracy” and explain to people that a stronger and more cohesive Europe is the only solution to solve the problems of our time (Schianchi 2014). “For my children’s future,” he said, “I dream, think and work for the United States of Europe.” Renzi appealed to Europe’s “courageous leaders” to work toward transforming this dream into reality and to defeat those who threaten or fight against this heroic mission. He warned against the phantom of the past: if the enemies of the USE prevail, what has been built by the European family could be destroyed. The only solution, from his perspective, is to acknowledge that the EU is “an attractive adventure” and that it has “not only a common past but a common destiny, to which it is impossible to escape” (Schianchi 2014).

While the Treaty of Lisbon (approved in 2007 and implemented in 2009) consecrated the EU’s active role in the realm of culture, “drawing inspiration from the cultural, religious and humanist inheritance of Europe” and promising to “respect its rich cultural and linguistic diversity,” “ensure that Europe’s cultural heritage is safeguarded and enhanced,” and “promote culture and heritage conservation” (European Council 2007), “communicating Europe to people” has nonetheless remained an unsolved problem. European federalists’ enhanced efforts have been unsuccessful. Far from being powerful storytellers, they have failed to make the myth of a new Europe relevant, to make citizens internalize the sacred dogma of the United States of Europe as the promised land waiting at the end of the (linear) process of European integration. Barroso recognized that the myths, if left only to institutional actors to tell, would further alienate citizens, and on 23 April 2013 he made a call to artists, scientists, and intellectuals to write a “new narrative for Europe.” Aware of the fact that the old dogma of peace, prosperity, and unity no longer provoked in EU citizens a sacred gaze, he made an appeal to European intellectuals to write a new “book” narrating in a different way Europe’s present, past, and future. His nondeclared hope was that a new story of European palingenesis would enroll citizens (in particular the new generations) in the holy mission against populists, nationalists, and even Euroskeptics, who with their “pessimistic and destructive agenda” “threaten to destroy the dream made real.” He prompted them to endorse the federalist soteriology by putting an end to the “aberration of dealing with European issues at the national level” (Barroso 2013).

To make sure that the new storytellers would triumph in selling the federalist paradise dream, in enlarging the community of believers of the new doctrine of salvation, Barroso reverberates in his call the idea that culture represents the missing link in the realization of the cosmogony project. From his perspective, culture is supposed to make Europe’s founding fathers’ dream come true by giving birth to “a human enterprise which will promote peace and mark a major step forward for civilization.” To make the EU easier to imagine and to love, he discards the idea of Europe being technocratic or bureaucratic and instead attributes to it human characteristics: “Europe has a soul, and that soul is its civilization.” In his appeal, Barroso seems to demand that the new narrative be ceremonial and romanticized enough to raise awareness of the glorious nature of the EU, to “ensure that our citizens are inspired by the great achievements of European culture” (Barroso 2013).

The instructions were far too detailed and the encoded message was far too explicit for a true authentic debate (which in theory he was meant to encourage) to take place. “A New Narrative for Europe: The Mind and Body of Europe,” a manifesto written by a group of artists, writers, and scientists, seems to represent an enthusiastic endorsement of Barroso’s call (Cultural Committee 2014). Supranational policy-makers endorsed enthusiastically the new tale and, driven by their well-known frenzy, transformed the catchy four-page essay into an illegible 249-page book (European Commission 2015a). The plot of the story is the same offered by the institutional narrative—Europe’s rebirth. “A New Narrative for Europe: The Mind and Body of Europe” is also informed by a mythical understanding of the European Union and inspired by a cosmogony myth, but it is written in a different (more effective) style. The content of the European narrative has remained substantially the same; it still emphasizes the magic ability of Europe to transform chaos into order. The difference lies in its form (and arguably in its impact on people): while the old myth emphasizes more the traditional, the political, and the economic benefits Europeans can gain from the integration process, the new story has at its core the cultural and spiritual dimension; it makes the implicit mythological nature of the supranational project explicit.

Unlike Barroso, Europe’s new storytellers have pathos, logos, and ethos. To appeal to (young) Europeans’ hearts, thoughts, and fantasies, and to transport their readers in a new and special world, they use several (ancient) tools of persuasion—personification, a different punctuation of time, and rhetorical devices such as metaphors and tropes. In line with Barroso’s thinking, the European Union is represented with human attributes: it is endowed with a mind and a body; it can suffer, die, and even resurrect. As the narrative goes, in 1914 “Europe lost its soul”; in the era of Fascism and Nazism “it damned itself”; and after World War II, thanks to European values, ideals, and modus operandi, it gained “redemption”; “Europe’s soul was restored” (Cultural Committee 2014). The metaphor of the body politic is perhaps used as a means to prompt citizens to sacrifice their body and soul for the cause of the new political religion.

The European integration project, as the authors reveal, “was born like a phoenix out of the ashes of World War I and World War II” (Cultural Committee 2014). In 2014, a hundred years after the primal trauma, what Europe needs in order to leave behind the painful consequences of the shock (2008 crisis) is “nothing short of a ‘New Renaissance.’” As in bureaucrats’ rhetoric, the frequent use of religious and mythological idioms serves to add a mystic, spiritual dimension to the political projects. To similar ends, the authors sacralise time by restructuring the official EU calendar. Until recently, European history has always been told by the European elite in a teleological fashion as the story of the European family’s linear march, starting in 1950 and advancing gradually but without interruptions toward complete union. Today, however, Europe’s (chosen) intellectuals give a cyclic vision of time; they describe the story of Europe following the mythic structure of trauma and triumph, death and rebirth. Portrayed as the mythological phoenix, the European community is cherished for its ability to resurrect time and time again and arise from the ashes of its predecessor to return to the mythical age.

In both narratives crisis appears as something not just natural, frequent in the history of European integration, but also as something necessary—as a “great regenerating experience.” In both cases the sacralization of politics suggests that in order to resurrect one has to die; for Europe to restore its golden age, it must first undergo the painful destruction of the crisis. The symbolism of death and resurrection, the commitment to Europe, the mysticism of trauma and triumph, blood and sacrifice, the cult of Europe’s heroes and martyrs, the “communion” of citizens are all meant to contribute to the spreading of the myth of palingenesis, to the reinforcing of the belief that membership in a new united Europe would renew all forms of existence.