Péter Esterházy
Reporting
from the Moon*
Once upon a time I was Eastern European. Then I was promoted
to Central European. Those were the times, even if not for me personally.
There was a dream of Central Europe, a vision of its future, debates on what
shape this future should take - everything; everything needed for a proper "round
table", though that's not entirely fair like this. Then a couple of months
ago I became a New European, but before I knew what hit me, before I could
get accustomed to it or dissociate myself from it, I became a not-hard-core
European, a non-grass-roots European. I felt like the man who lives in Munkács/Mukac©evo
and who never leaves his native town, but is first a Hungarian, then a Czechoslovak,
then a Soviet citizen. In this part of the world, this is how you become a
cosmopolitan.
I am sitting in a room in Budapest that is leagues removed from debates on
the future of the united Europe. It hardly filters in, although just about
everybody who is anybody raises his voice on the matter. Why it is so I don't
know; after all, there's the Internet, four or five German TV stations, etc.,
but it is so. Furthermore, not only is the debate leagues removed from Budapest,
but Budapest, too, is leagues removed from the debate. "Zunächst in Kerneuropa",
first and foremost, the hard core - with slight exaggeration, this is as much
as we are in the Habermasean chain of thought. Though I can't think of any
viable reason not to translate this new classification (hard-core, not-hard-core)
into first-class and second-class, I am not speaking from the perspective
of our unremitting, one might say customary, Eastern European touchiness.
I can sympathise with the Habermasean reflex. The "first and foremost" is,
first and foremost, perfectly logical. It is only sound and sensible to say
(and feel) that the new EU members add up to an embarrassment. It is difficult - and
will be difficult - to co-operate with the new member states. Though we like
to remind the world that we were always European, still, we are - how shall
I put it - indubitably marching to a different tune, we notice and appreciate
different things, we have different values, we use words in a different way.
For instance, by "freedom" we do not mean the healthy equilibrium of checks
and balances but a fair chance for survival, an ingenious hide-and-seek with
the powers that be - a sort of plodding along. Dictatorship has taught us that
the state is our enemy, and we must defraud and double-deal it at every turn,
while at the same time we expect it to solve our problems. We had barely just
regained our sovereignty, we barely had time to decide what it all meant,
and right away, we had to pull in the reins. To us, America was never a great
power; she was a dream.
An important dream, prince charming on a white horse who would come to our
rescue. Alas, she had no intention of doing anything of the sort (e.g. 1956).
Still, this has hardly affected its status with us. We didn't have the opportunity
to feel the arrogance of that great power directly, even less the heavy burden
of received aid. No 1968 for us, no youth movement, no facing up to the past.
In a dictatorship there is nothing, just the dictatorship. Plus the people.
Let's take a look at recent events. On February 15 demonstrations against
intervention in Iraq attended by hundreds of thousands were held throughout
Europe. We had a demonstration, too, a couple of hundred participants who,
based on party sympathies, wasted no time in falling out with each other on
the spot. We watched the demonstrations on television. This social apathy
also has its roots in our experience with dictatorship. How else are we to
explain that in Hungary the so-called conservative parties, the far right
included, were against the war, while the socialists were for it? Actually,
they would have liked to shun decision making altogether, if only they could.
This, too, is a Kádárian reflex, this "Oh, let's cross our fingers and hope
nothing happens, at least, that can't get us into trouble." But now trouble
is in the offing, though that certain letter of those certain eight - as regards
Hungary, at least - was prompted less by support for Bush than by inertia and
diplomatic inexperience. On the other hand, where is experience to come from?
On the basis of what tradition? It simply doesn't exist.
It is as the poet says: Central Europe can be understood only from Central
Europe. But being Central European means that we don't understand ourselves.
In short, different is different, and since 1989, hardly anything has changed
in this regard. We have done nothing with ourselves, nor has anyone else.
When the East broke into the West via the GDR, there was a moment when we
could hope that Germany would acknowledge and familiarize itself with this
difference. This did not happen. (Which afterwards they tried to compensate
for in an impressive variety of ways.)
And now the newly emergent world order is at our heels with a strong America,
a hodgepodge Europe, and there isn't even time enough for Derrida to write
another essay. Prompt action is the only remedy, and it really is easier with
a select team. Apart from absolutism, problems of this type were solved most
effectively by enlightened absolutism. "First and foremost" such a turn sits
best on the lips of Catherine the Great.
So then, there's this Hardcore Europe, an avantgarde engine with doors flung
wide open out of self-interest, so that we, also out of self-interest, may
hop aboard. A pleasant and by no means oversimplified picture. The problem,
as I see it, is that the tracks have been laid down in advance. In short,
Eastern Europe is an embarrassment, but if we think of it only as an embarrassment,
a disturbing factor, then what are we talking about? It is not in my interest
to ask the following question, but I will ask anyway: Why this whole business
of the EU enlargement? Out of altruism? Or good manners?
It is not enough like this, it is nothing. We can't get around ourselves.
Eastern Europe must learn to act in a mature manner. It must learn to make
real decisions, keeping in mind that decisions have consequences. It must
also learn to take responsibility, while for its part, Western Europe can't
get around familiarising themselves with the Embarrassing Factor, which is
not the same as making certain gestures. (Nor the lack thereof. For instance,
think of the matter-of-fact arrogance of the French president, who remarked
that the new states did not take advantage of the opportunities inherent in
audition. Bon. There is nothing in the world I like as much as French arrogance.
If it's going to be arrogance, it might as well be French. It's the best that,
stylistically speaking, the European spirit has to offer. The Hungarian, voilá,
is absurd, the German belaboured, while Italian arrogance is strident. Maybe
the English, but that's so fine, it keeps mum...
From this place, the Moon, the anti-American resentment (ressentiment in
Hungarian) and, generally, the drive for an American - European equilibrium
inherent in the emergent European self-definition seems short-sighted: it
is motivated by momentary considerations, whereas this should be neither the
goal, nor the starting-point; it should be the outcome. That certain European
"common denominator" resists easy definition; it reveals itself rather through
certain gestures and reflexes - and through the scale of things. It is as if
Bush were hiding the U.S. from us. I think the U.S. is just like us, except
different. But not a different and opposite pole in reference to which we
can define ourselves. Besides - how shall I put it - with this sort of reckless
"may the best man win" gesture we wouldn't come out looking like a bowl of
cherries, to say the least. Once again, what are we talking about?
When listening to the disquisitions about the new European self-awareness,
I can't help feeling that what we envision is a new gigantic nation-state,
emotional identification and mutual enemies. Special character traits, only
Euro-national and not national. (As the old joke goes, What is a Russian dwarf
like? Gigantic.) However, a structure like a United States of Europe doesn't
seem expedient - we're too varied compared to America. The distance between
Kiel and Hamburg is greater than between Boston and San Francisco. And then
I haven't even mentioned Hódmezővásárhely yet.
It is as if formerly Europe had been held together by dictatorships, spiritually
and otherwise, too. The opposition to dictatorship. But what about the post-'89
years? Where are the think tanks that could produce a holistic vision of Europe?
There aren't any. Besides, we have good reasons not to trust visions. If I
were apocalyptic in my makeup, I would think of Europe and the European spirit
as a corpse, and culture as the growing of the nails. But frightened, I quickly
take that back - or if I were to forget, certainly I will on my deathbed.
Habermas writes that the attractive, indeed decidedly irresistible vision
of Europe won't land in our laps of its own accord. These days, only the unease
(perplexity) over the loss of direction can bring something like this about.
Important words. But as things stand, perplexity hasn't made us uneasy, just
apathetic. And apathetic perplexity has no content. It can't take us past
the hackneyed equation: EU=Euro+Brussels.
Which means that, as the first step, we should start feeling uneasy and start
easing into - and accepting - a sense of unease, a commonly shared European unease.
Translated by Judith Sollosy
* On May 31, 2003, the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung and
La Libération published an essay written by Jürgen Habermas and co-signed
by Jacques Derrida under the title "After the War: The Rebirth of Europe."
It was the keynote article of Habermas' broader initiative for the promotion
of public discussion about Europe's future in the wake of the antiwar demonstrations,
the split between "old" and "new" Europe and the resultant breakdown of European
foreign policy in the face of the American challenge. Habermas urges closer
cooperation and the development of a unified foreign policy to counter the
hegemony of the US. This, he argues, can only be achieved if the EU becomes
a "multi-speed" organization in which the "core states" act as "engines" of
integration. Far from excluding states on the periphery, the vigorous initiative
of the "hard core" ought to draw them in. Political and economic integration
cannot succeed, however, without a sense of common destiny. The numerous responses
include the essay above, published first in the Süddeutsche Zeitung (June
11, 2003) and then in the Budapest weekly Élet és Irodalom (June 20, 2003).
Péter Esterházy's
major novel, Celestial Harmonies (2000), will be published in English translation
by Ecco Books, an imprint of Harper-Collins, New York, early next year.
