It is a different matter with today's newcomers. Here, the concept of 'euroscepticism' means a complete rejection of the European Union. However, it should be noted right away: of the ten new member states, the eurosceptic movement exists only in eight. Citizens of Malta and Cyprus are 100% satisfied with their situation, and their only concerns are related to the upcoming introduction of the euro: the Maltese and Cypriots fear price increases, and real estate agents scare trusting foreigners with a price explosion, strongly recommending buying houses and villas, as they say, 'already yesterday'.
However, in the other eight countries, eurosceptics (or perhaps it is more correct to say 'eurocritics') have serious political influence. In Latvia, for example, there is an entire party of the same name, which analysts predict has good chances in the upcoming October elections to the Saeima. Eurocritics argue that Latvia has only lost from joining the European Union: inflation is rising, price growth outpaces wage growth, and Latvian enterprises are being bought up wholesale by foreign capital.
It should be noted that at the household level, according to recent opinion polls, there are surprisingly many dissatisfied with EU membership in the Baltics – about 40%. The reasons for dissatisfaction vary. Russian-speaking residents of Latvia feel abandoned by Brussels, which allows their discrimination by the authorities. And right-wing activists of the Latvian political spectrum are outraged by European liberals who criticize them for glorifying local SS legionaries. By the way, contrary to the widespread opinion in Russia that Baltic eurosceptics dream of returning to the 'great and mighty', this is not the case. The absolute majority see their path separately from everyone else – a kind of Switzerland on the Baltic, independent of anyone. How realistic such a path is, there are fierce debates.
In some new member states, eurocritics are even in power. The best example is Poland. Its president and prime minister, twin brothers Lech and Jarosław Kaczyński, make no secret of their beliefs: in their opinion, Poland should either lead Europe or not be in the European Union. Constant conflicts with Brussels on any issue – from the number of Polish seats in the European Parliament to persistent pushing of the idea of an 'energy NATO', from complaints about insufficient EU funding for the Polish economy to disputes about who should lead the UNIFIL peacekeeping mission in the Middle East – all these are symptoms of the anti-European sentiments of Polish leaders. However, on the 'lower floors' of Polish society, the picture is completely different: the absolute majority of Poles are very satisfied with Poland's entry into the European Union and believe that the country has only benefited from it. This is not surprising: since the fall of the Berlin Wall, Poles have been intensively exploring Western Europe, and EU citizen passports now allow them to do so with doubled energy.
It is precisely this activity of the newcomers, by the way, that frightens the inhabitants of Old Europe quite a bit. Right-wing radical parties in Germany, France, and other countries gain additional votes in elections, promising voters not to allow the arrival of 'Wojciech with a screwdriver'. And statistics show that Western Europeans are quite afraid of this very Wojciech: for example, in Germany, according to a poll by the Forsa sociological service, 42% of citizens believe that their jobs are under threat due to the 'invasion from the East'.
As is known, 13 out of 15 'old' EU countries decided that citizens of the 'new' member states do not have the right to work in their territory for seven years (which also caused a protracted conflict between Warsaw and Brussels). But, firstly, two and a half years of these seven have already passed, and the fear of 'labor locusts' remains. Secondly, many Western European companies are moving their production to the East, thereby depriving workers from Western Europe of earnings, and governments of a tax base.
This process was observed earlier, but joining the European Union facilitated the transfer of Western enterprises to Eastern European countries. It was these corporations (mainly automotive and electronics) that 'pushed through' a decision in the European Commission that still outrages residents of Western European countries: for a year now, labels on goods produced within the European Union bear the inscription 'made in the EU'. Not 'made in Germany' – a kind of quality mark for German products known worldwide, not 'made in Italy' – a distinctive hallmark of wonderful shoes, but the inexpressive 'made in EU', which tells the buyer nothing about the origin of the product, but ensures a very dubious equality of high- and low-quality goods.
There is no rule without exceptions: the United Kingdom and Ireland, unlike the rest of Old Europe, did not fence themselves off from the flow of labor migrants with administrative barriers, and do not feel any inconvenience from this at all. Thousands of citizens of Eastern European countries seeking work arrive here daily – and work is found. Thousands of low-paid jobs, by British standards, have been filled by people from the East, who are quite satisfied with their salaries and everything around them. As for the 'European Silicon Valley' – Ireland, its high-tech production gladly accepts specialists from all over the world.
There is also another aspect of the 'fusion' of the old and new countries of Europe – the everyday aspect, if you will. On May 1, 2004, thousands of crowds in the streets and squares of the new EU states enthusiastically greeted the new era, fireworks thundered in honor of joining the European Union – a real spring New Year. Now, two and a half years after this event, it is very interesting to look at how the 'new Europeans' feel in the family of EU nations.
The most adapted are still the Cypriots and Maltese – they, in essence, stand out nothing from the general background, and for them, by and large, almost nothing has changed. Energetic Czechs, Poles and Hungarians, as well as Slovaks and Slovenes are immediately visible – they catch the eye with a slightly different manner of dressing and behaving. However, this does not cause rejection among Western Europeans, and relations are quite friendly. The same could be said about the inhabitants of the Baltic states, if not for one 'but'. They are confused with Russians. Moreover, not with modern Russians, but with Soviet ones. The 'new generation' has instantly integrated into Europe, feels itself here like the famous Riga sprats in a can, and does not bother with questions of EU membership. However, their fathers and mothers still bear an elusive stamp of the Soviet way of life.
In conclusion, I would like to note that the process of integration of the countries of Eastern Europe into the European Union turned out to be more protracted and painful for both sides than similar processes experienced in other states – say, in the Scandinavian countries. Mutual distrust has not gone anywhere, although objectively there are still more pros than cons from this accession. Obviously, the scale of the 'Big Bang', the scope of the last EU enlargement, is taking its toll. It is still too early to make final conclusions.
Boris Altner.
Rosbalt