The concept of “historical justice” is most often evoked when we try to assess the meaning and the value of the European Union’s embrace of central Europe; it argues that the Union was duty bound to enlarge eastwards to heal Europe’s old divisions. The idea of historical justice is usually followed up with the economic argument, that this ambitious enlargement offered benefits to all, and is yielding growth while slowly smoothing away the wealth gap between east and west. But seldom if ever is enlargement seen through the prism of spiritual renewal – a much broader concept but one that harks back to the origins of European integration.
Not many people in so-called “old Europe” thought that the EU’s enlargement was necessary and would bring added value to the whole continent. Many European politicians seemed to subscribe subconsciously to the words of the Holy Roman Emperor Ferdinand I, - fiat justicia et pereat mundis - let justice be done, though the world perish. When the mechanics of enlargement got under way in the early 1990s, political correctness was much more in evidence than true conviction. The consensus appeared to be that justice had to be done and the old division lines eliminated, even though the cosy little European Community would inevitably perish. Such a defensive, deterministic attitude was bound sooner or later to produce a backlash from western Europe’s disoriented electorates. The message that enlargement is a win-win situation that will benefit us all has not been put over in the debates on Europe’s future. Not many people in western Europe have even tried to address the question of whether “younger Europe”, to use the term coined by a great Polish medievalist Professor Jerzy Kloczowski, has much to contribute to the European project. So it should come as no surprise that when some European citizens were given their say in referendums on Europe, the issue of enlargement was reduced intellectually to the threat posed by Polish plumbers and to the “delocalization” of jobs that move to lower wage economies
The EU membership of Poland and the seven other countries that for more than 40 years were in the Soviet sphere of influence cannot be seen as “just another enlargement” comparable to earlier ones. The uniqueness of the latest enlargement cannot even be seen in terms of geographic size, economic scope or the magnitude of its social challenges. The changes it is bringing are intrinsically qualitative as well as quantitative. The European Union has taken aboard a region marked by some of the most traumatic historical and spiritual experiences of the 20th Century. German nazism and Soviet communism had profound impacts on the nature of eastern and central Europe, and memories of either of these two regimes do not have anything like the same resonance in the psyche of western Europe. If memories of the past are now being rekindled in “old Europe” it is because of the arrival of the new EU members. This heightened awareness of the value of European integration is vital to forging a new spirit and identity for the enlarged Union.
The root causes of this new situation were aptly described by the late Pope John Paul II, in his last book “Memory and Identity”. It is a work close to Polish hearts because it deals with the essence of our country’s history. It conveys a fascinating image of today’s Europe, and in one chapter John Paul II recalls a conversation with a French monk, who claimed that it was not by chance that the nations of eastern and central Europe had met such a cruel fate in the 20th Century. “Maybe we in western Europe were spared similar treatment, simply because we could not have borne it”, he told to the Pope.
To what degree do our histories explain the behaviour within the Union of the new member states? We think that history still matters, and that unless we understand it we cannot begin to seriously address the questions that surround European unity. This perhaps helps to explain the initiatives by Polish members of the European Parliament aimed at putting European history in its proper perspective. Debates about who should bear responsibility for the near annihilation of eastern and central European nations, and especially the Jews, and about the post-Yalta division of Europe, are good examples of how European history can be revisited.
We EU newcomers have a very special attitude towards freedom, stemming from our direct experience of the bloodshed of the 20th Century. We remember vividly what it means not to be free, politically or economically. We also know what it means to have to fight for your freedom, as they did in Berlin in 1953, in Budapest and Poznan in 1956, in Prague in 1968 and in 1970 and 1980 in Gdansk. Along with other nations of central and eastern Europe, we Poles fought for it during the “Autumn of Nations” in 1989. Our long experience of communist oppression and the exhilarating fight for freedom enable us to better understand how precious freedom is. We know too well that it should never be taken for granted, and that one can always lose it. Freedom requires not only courage and determination but also a strong dose of idealism. That is why we are so sensitive about the undemocratic regime in Belarus, and that’s also why we gave our spontaneous support to democratic change in Ukraine. It also explains our deeply-held commitment to economic freedoms like unbridled competition and free movement of goods, services, workers and capital.
This yearning for freedom has in Poland’s case been complemented by an attachment to the ideal of solidarity, for it has the special meaning of being identified with the great “Solidarnosc” freedom movement that shook the foundations of the communist system in the Gdansk shipyard in 1980. During that landmark strike, Lech Walesa launched his famous appeal to the rest of central and eastern Europe to join the fight for freedom and solidarity. The term solidarity is also meant in a broader sense to challenge the egoism and inwardness that pervade the politics of power and domination. Solidarity is about creating a balance between the weak and the strong, the rich and the poor, the big and the small. Such an understanding of solidarity should be identified with the fundamental principles and building blocks of European integration. Our attachment to such practical demonstrations of solidarity, as sharing wealth, the quest for a modern society and a common approach to security is not dictated by narrow self-interest, but our deep conviction as to the nature and promise of European integration.
There is one more important element in Europe’s spiritual heritage that we new members bring to the Union. The “old” member states often justify the EU’s drive for closer integration with talk of addressing the shortcomings of the modern nation state. It is worth reminding ourselves then, that for more than two centuries Poles, along with other nations of eastern and central Europe, with Ukrainians, Lithuanians, Russians, Germans and Jews, participated in an ambitious project of true political union, the so-called Lublin Union. This union was based on a mechanism for the peaceful integration of nations joined together by citizenship, religious tolerance, multi-cultural identity in a way that stood in stark contrast to the western political ethos at a time of deadly religious competition.
We Europeans will not be able to understand and make sense of the EU’s latest enlargement if we perceive it solely through the prism of its being a club of rich and developed states that have magnanimously chosen to admit their historically challenged partners from the east. It is precisely these countries coming in from the cold that have preserved, and now bring with them, a truly European spiritual dimension to enrich our common identity. It is appropriate here to quote Jacques Delors. The former Commission President recently commented that “if, in years to come, Europe does not regain its spiritual balance, it will not live very long”.
In the 19th Century, eminent Polish historians divided into two schools of thought: the Romantics and the Kraków School. The Romantics believed that younger Europe had a lot to contribute to the west – virility, enthusiasm, endurance and knowledge of how to prevail in times of distress. The Kraków School was much more pessimistic; it recognized the gap between Europe’s east and west and identified younger Europe with immaturity, complexes and imperfection. Its proponents believed that we still had a lot to learn from our more civilized western brothers.
Most Poles would nowadays have to admit that in the context of that old debate they would rather see themselves as Romantics. “Younger Europe” has great potential and great reservoirs of energy that for decades had been gagged by totalitarianism. What therefore can be our input as newcomers to the integration project? Our contribution must be based on the conviction that freedom is worth paying a price for, that one cannot build a true community without a basic sense of solidarity, that peaceful integration is one of the best means of achieving unity and, last but not least, that the tradition of Christianity (even though religion is separate from politics) may actually strengthen not weaken our common enterprise. The new member states bring with them a dynamism that is indispensable for the Union. Thanks to its reunification, Europe will finally breathe with two lungs.