Berlin threw a bigger-than-expected weekend party for the European Union, including clubbing and dancing to win over the young. It went off well, but EU stodginess remains.
The club was in Berlin. The DJ from Bulgaria. The music was British indy rock. And at the bar late on Saturday night sat Jaruslaw, a Polish university student from Warsaw, taking it all in.
It was a smorgasbord of Europe that is perhaps not that uncommon in Berlin's pulsating night clubs, renowned as they are across the continent. But it was very definitely not the best time to strike up a conversation on the future of the European Union. Asked about the prospect of a new European constitution, Jaruslaw stared at a point somewhere behind the bartender and, after a considerable pause, he shouted his answer over the blaring music: "I do not think I am in favor of European prostitution."
It was just one brief scene in the all-night, city-wide "European Club Night." And perhaps Jaruslaw had misunderstood the question. Still, even as contented masses danced the night away on the King Kong Klub dance floor -- one of the 27 clubs taking part in the event -- it was clear that the EU still had a ways to go before winning over the public. The goal was to inspire pride in the EU among young Europeans. But disconnect between the 27-member bloc's lofty goals and its raucous, sometimes misunderstood reality remains.
UNANTICIPATED METAPHOR FOR BUREAUCRATIC GRIDLOCK
Club Night was just one small part of this weekend's "Europafest," a two-day party thrown by Berlin to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the signing of the Treaty of Rome on March 25, 1957. Prior to the event, Chancellor Angela Merkel made it clear that the shindig was not just for the European leaders who congregated in the German capital on Saturday and Sunday. "Europe," Merkel wrote in a pamphlet advertising the festival, "succeeds only when the people in Europe have a feeling in their heart for the European idea."
On Sunday, it seemed her vision had been realized. The weather was on its best behavior and some half a million people mobbed into central Berlin to check out what Europe had to offer. Food booths, information on EU institutions, and a tent for each of the 27 EU countries welcomed the throngs who turned up. Less fortunately, the overwhelming numbers of visitors transformed the festival into an unanticipated metaphor for bureaucratic gridlock.
Indeed, despite Merkel's hope -- and despite the raft of accomplishments the European Union has achieved in the last 50 years -- the club has not fared particularly well in the eye of the public. Even as Merkel on Saturday and Sunday tirelessly trumpeted the benefits the EU has brought to its citizens -- and even as Merkel, European Commission President José Manuel Barroso, and European Parliament President Hans-Gert Pöttering signed the "Berlin Declaration" on Sunday -- that other Europe, the widespread vision of a continent consisting of pencil-pushing bureaucrats and red tape, showed through.
SACHERTORTE AND CZECH BEER
Just hours after the document, which obligates Europe to revamp the bloc's legal foundation by 2009, was officially presented, the backbiting began. Polish President Lech Kaczynski said the timeline was "unachievable," and Czech President Vaclav Klaus called it "just a dream." The Declaration had already gone to great lengths to avoid the word "constitution," which for now remains a taboo concept in Europe two years after the first push for a European constitution was torpedoed by France and the Netherlands.
Visitors to the Europafest on Sunday didn't seem to notice as they happily munched on Austrian Sachertorte, slurped Czech beer or hung out at the Latvian barbeque. And there was much more. For history buffs, a standing photo exhibition in the chancellory documented major events in EU history. Sunday's "Open Air Event" included a poetry slam, a human beat box competition, live music from Joe Cocker among others, and a fireworks display above the Brandenburg Gate to top it off. On Saturday night, the "Long Night of Beauty" entertained aesthetes with a host of special arts events running late into the night in Berlin's renowned museums.
And then -- just hours after EU leaders had contemplated a Berlin Philharmonic performance of Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" -- there was European Club Night. Member countries supplied the music, Germany took on the overhead costs and Berlin provided the space. For the price of one ticket, club goers could come and go as they wished, hopping from one country to the next -- from Hungarian techno, to Luxembourg hip-hop. A sort of disco Schengen Agreement.
DÖNER KEBABS IN EUROPE
Berlin's streets were strewn with throngs of the strangely-dressed, speaking different languages, ambling from club to club. One group of Germans, intent on getting to all 27 countries, gave the Bulgarian beats only brief attention before heading out. Others, like the group of Slovakians who attached themselves to a British DJ, preferred to stay put.
The EU, though, still has plenty of image work to do. Ultimately, "European Club Night," rather than enhancing the European Union's reputation, seems to have succeeded in underscoring Berlin's standing among Europeans youth. And when the stereos finally went quiet, the food booths in the city center had yet to open their doors.
Instead, Europe's youth gathered together just as Merkel had foreseen. But they did so in a jam-packed Turkish-owned restaurant in the middle of Berlin on a Sunday morning -- eating Döner kebabs while reminiscing about the night gone by.
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