A Classic Display of Euro-arrogance: Peter Preston's (Self) Enlargement
These thick-headed twits of the Europhile Left will never understand. They are too caught up in their own self-congratulatory rhetoric that they never stop to consider what and who they are actually talking about.
Pauncy Peter Preston, writing in the Guardian, repeats a theme that has appeared before in that august paper- one that intimates, not without smugness, a certain moral superiority for British fans of EU expansion over those dithering, xenophobic continentals.
Arguing that "the Ukrainians and Turks can't be left out of the new Europe," Preston suggests that the former should be rewarded for their happy revolutionary zeal that exchanged one set of billionaire oligarchs for another:
"...reality began, only eight months ago, in the orange revolution, when hundreds of thousands of Ukrainians camped out for days in the central square until a corrupt presidency was bundled into history and a tainted election was overturned."
Yes indeed! We should rather say that that's exactly where reality ended.
Preston seems to delight in that old imperial joy of noting similarities:
"...I was in Kiev a few weeks ago, talking to journalists. Kiev isn't Istanbul or Ankara. It is stately and tree-lined and well-ordered, with cafe society flourishing along the river bank. Go to the British ambassador's summer party, and the brass band and cucumber sandwiches seem utterly natural."
This is without doubt the most fulsome, self-aggrandizing paragraph I have read in a long time. One doesn't even know where to begin. It's enough to say that what the author seeks - and this is identical with the eurocrat vision on the larger scale - is a direct reflection of his own culture, a narcissistic satisfaction at the 'well-ordered' Ukraine of cucumber sandwiches and brass bands, a Britain in miniature in the heart of Eastern Europe. John Lennon, for one, would be horrified to see how little things have changed in the mentality of his people.
Aside from asking which journalists he talked to, or how those meetings were arranged, or whether any average Ukrainian citizen would be invited to the British ambassador's summer party anyway, one can just comment that apparently Preston's never been to Istanbul or Ankara. After all, I have seen the waterside cafes and am hard-pressed to imagine that the British Embassy's cuisine there is any different. And there is indeed order- it is just a different kind than Preston is used to.
But this subtle differentiation in people is necessary to enforce existing stereotypes. The Ukrainians, classic dispossessed Europeans yearning to breathe free from the old Communist yoke, are described as an object of pity, as "...130 million more souls joined together in supplication, banging at our door."
Yes, indeed! And don't they deserve it? As Christians, they are sufficiently like us to merit the simple joys of finger sandwiches. They probably even deserve a toothpick to keep order on their napkin.
Of course, those murky, Muslim Turks are another story. Because they are sufficiently not like us, Preston couches his argument for their EU membership in terms of other reasons- solving the Cyprus problem and extending a middle finger at al Qaeda, proving that a 'moderate' Muslim state can indeed exist. So ha!
But the common connection between both is the unbearable sense of superiority: we must no shirk from our responsibilities to take in these huddled masses yearning to be 'Europeans.' So take heart, Europhiles! Let not the French or the Dutch frighten you off!
What these people will never understand is that there are many people in the un-Unionized Europe who simply have neither an interest in sharing the bogus values of the self-enlargers, nor in their fate, and who are pretty pissed off with continually being told that they do. People who can see through all the bullshit propagated by these self-appointed experts and moral guardians of the Western world.
But for Preston and the like, this profound arrogance conceals a deep despair. This issue is treated convincingly in the final chapter of Baudrillard's The Spirit of Terrorism. Buy it, people.
Pauncy Peter Preston, writing in the Guardian, repeats a theme that has appeared before in that august paper- one that intimates, not without smugness, a certain moral superiority for British fans of EU expansion over those dithering, xenophobic continentals.
Arguing that "the Ukrainians and Turks can't be left out of the new Europe," Preston suggests that the former should be rewarded for their happy revolutionary zeal that exchanged one set of billionaire oligarchs for another:
"...reality began, only eight months ago, in the orange revolution, when hundreds of thousands of Ukrainians camped out for days in the central square until a corrupt presidency was bundled into history and a tainted election was overturned."
Yes indeed! We should rather say that that's exactly where reality ended.
Preston seems to delight in that old imperial joy of noting similarities:
"...I was in Kiev a few weeks ago, talking to journalists. Kiev isn't Istanbul or Ankara. It is stately and tree-lined and well-ordered, with cafe society flourishing along the river bank. Go to the British ambassador's summer party, and the brass band and cucumber sandwiches seem utterly natural."
This is without doubt the most fulsome, self-aggrandizing paragraph I have read in a long time. One doesn't even know where to begin. It's enough to say that what the author seeks - and this is identical with the eurocrat vision on the larger scale - is a direct reflection of his own culture, a narcissistic satisfaction at the 'well-ordered' Ukraine of cucumber sandwiches and brass bands, a Britain in miniature in the heart of Eastern Europe. John Lennon, for one, would be horrified to see how little things have changed in the mentality of his people.
Aside from asking which journalists he talked to, or how those meetings were arranged, or whether any average Ukrainian citizen would be invited to the British ambassador's summer party anyway, one can just comment that apparently Preston's never been to Istanbul or Ankara. After all, I have seen the waterside cafes and am hard-pressed to imagine that the British Embassy's cuisine there is any different. And there is indeed order- it is just a different kind than Preston is used to.
But this subtle differentiation in people is necessary to enforce existing stereotypes. The Ukrainians, classic dispossessed Europeans yearning to breathe free from the old Communist yoke, are described as an object of pity, as "...130 million more souls joined together in supplication, banging at our door."
Yes, indeed! And don't they deserve it? As Christians, they are sufficiently like us to merit the simple joys of finger sandwiches. They probably even deserve a toothpick to keep order on their napkin.
Of course, those murky, Muslim Turks are another story. Because they are sufficiently not like us, Preston couches his argument for their EU membership in terms of other reasons- solving the Cyprus problem and extending a middle finger at al Qaeda, proving that a 'moderate' Muslim state can indeed exist. So ha!
But the common connection between both is the unbearable sense of superiority: we must no shirk from our responsibilities to take in these huddled masses yearning to be 'Europeans.' So take heart, Europhiles! Let not the French or the Dutch frighten you off!
What these people will never understand is that there are many people in the un-Unionized Europe who simply have neither an interest in sharing the bogus values of the self-enlargers, nor in their fate, and who are pretty pissed off with continually being told that they do. People who can see through all the bullshit propagated by these self-appointed experts and moral guardians of the Western world.
But for Preston and the like, this profound arrogance conceals a deep despair. This issue is treated convincingly in the final chapter of Baudrillard's The Spirit of Terrorism. Buy it, people.
posted by Balkanalysis Blog Editor @ 8/30/2005 12:44:00 PM
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