During a roundtable discussion on elections last night here at Surrey, I was asked what the impact would be of Hollande’s election on the existing European-level agreements on austerity.  After some metaphorical beating around the bush, I replied that I thought the impact would be marginal, akin to a child who gets some crayons and is allowed to draw a pretty picture while the grown-ups get on with the real business.

After some reflection, I would I still stand by this.  Franceis not the EU’s leader anymore, whatever its politicians say, and in the face of broad German popular support for the austerity agenda it’s very hard to see the current coalition in Berlin giving any ground on the matter.  Even the poor showing in Nordrhein-Westfalen this week won’t change that.

However, I can concede that kids with crayons have their value.  In particular, if we assume that Merkel needs to present at least some kind of common position with Hollande if eurozone policy is not to completely dry up, then there could be a positive effect of letting le petit François make the Fiscal Pact and the austerity packages look a bit more attractive, even as the Greeks, the Irish and the rest have to swallow them down.  Even a cosmetic addition of a growth package – long on words, short on substance – would be symbolically important, giving Hollande something to take back home, and giving any new Greek coalition the leeway to move on to the next tranche of aid.

Part of the problem is clearly that there is no strong leadership from any quarter, national or European.  From a sniping UK to a sanguine EU President to Merkel’s inflexible stance, there has not been a direction of travel, only of drift.  Kid’s drawings might put a passing smile on one’s face but they do not make for a broad policy position on macroeconomics.  Indeed, Hollande’s lack of joined-up thinking on economic policy further reinforces the impression that he is going to be a pragmatist, in an effort to avoid a repetition of François Mitterrand’s socialist missteps in the early years of his presidency.In the longer term, all this might open the door to a more fundamental swing towards growth, especially if the eurozone crisis can be contained and recession halted.  Those are very big preconditions that do not appear to be in hand at all at the moment, especially if things fall apart in the next couple of months (e.g. an Irish no vote, a proper run on Greek banks, an anti-austerity coalition in Greece, etc.).  For now, we might ask François to look in his colouring box to find some orange, to draw some carrots to match the huge sticks that his big sister has already put there.

As is often observed, a week is a long time in politics, and this has been a particularly long week.  From the EU’s perspective, the high points have been the re-election of the pro-EU government in Armenia and the failure yesterday of eurosceptics to get the hashtag #NotoEU trending on Twitter.  Not particularly glorious for such a symbolically important week.

With the impact of Hollande’s election more or less on hold until the legislative elections next month, it has been Greece’s coalition-forming travails that have been of most pressing urgency.  The 50 seat bonus given to New Democracy (as the largest party) to help avoid such problems did not take account of how large the backlash against austerity would be: it is hard to see PASOK succeeding where ND and Syriza have failed and it’s a working proposition that new elections will be needed.

Likewise, the advance of anti-EU parties of various kinds has to be noted.  From UKIP’s good showing in British local elections, to the Greek anti-austerity parties, the French radical right and hard left in the presidentials and Beppe Grillo’s Five Star party in Italy, there has been a remarkable strengthening of their electoral performance across national boundaries.

Where does this leave the EU? It is too early to tell, as my colleagues tell me I often say.  In particular, it is important not to overstate the problem.  Anti-EU support still remains a minority position (albeit a growing one) and we do not have the election of explicitly anti-EU politicians at the national level who are in a position to form a government. To a take one recent example, austerity brought down the Romanian government last week, only for a new pro-austerity administration to be formed in its place.  UKIP might have done well in the seats it contested, but it didn’t have enough members to fight everywhere, and it made some very basic mistakes in its London campaign. Even in Greece, Syriza’s problems in forming a coalition point to one fundamental weakness that eurosceptics face, namely that they agree on little beyond disliking the EU. While they might be able to find some common ground on why they dislike it, they certainly do not on what should replace it.

As we have to remember, euroscepticism is not an ideology, but a site of ideological action, where individuals and groups of almost any political persuasion can operate.  It is exactly that diversity of opinion and critique that has sustained scepticism as long as it has.  But it is ultimately a source of weakness, at least in creating a new European agenda or organisational structure.

This should certainly not be taken as a call for complacency, since that is precisely what has brought this situation about in the first place.  Rather it is a call to the EU and its member states to work towards a process of engagement with discontent and opposition, to create meaningful dialogue between the different positions and to address the intrinsic weakness of the Union in working with – rather than against – those who hold different views.  The current course has not worked, so the embrace of new ideas can only be of benefit to us all.

Perhaps it’s been the two weeks of unrelenting rain here, but it’s been hard to be too optimistic about the EU of late.  David Cameron’s remarks at the weekend about being less than halfway through the Eurozone crisis have only been reinforced by the poor economic figures, tetchy ECOFIN meetings, potentially deeply problematic elections in France and Greece, not to mention the fall of another government (this time in Romania).

The temptation, as always, is to engage in a pseudo-Rorschach exercise to join up the dots in the way that reflects what you want, to produce the picture you’d like to see.  Thus eurosceptics see simply the inevitable collapse of the Union that they have long talked of and hope for; federalists see an opportunity for strengthening integration, to overcome the shortcomings of member states.

The reality of the situation is – obviously enough – much messier than that.  The one lesson that we might take from all of this is that there isn’t a grand plan, nor even coordination between political actors.  The impact of economic downturn, tight financial markets, further falls in public trust, rising concerns about immigration and the nature of public action have played out in myriad ways across the continent.

This is not however to say that we’re all on our way to hell in a hand basket.  Grand plans are very rare indeed: even when we might espy them with hindsight, they were not so obvious at the time. Thus in a decade it might be evident what was going to happen next, if only because it happened and the alternatives didn’t.  But at the present time, the issue is somewhat different.

To look around Europe, the agendas are primarily holding ones; they are about securing past gains and protecting against future threats.  The German-led austerity drive is the classic of the genre, applying a diagnosis of the past crisis into a future solution.  Likewise, resistance to liberalisation of labour markets in countries with 20%+ unemployment because of popular disapproval also springs to mind.  Ultimately, such strategies cannot give us a way forward, at least not in a positive sense.  Either, they are succeeded by new, creative strategies or by a directionless vacuum.

Those creative strategies do exist, in part.  The rise of a growth agenda has been noticeable in recent months and can only get stronger if Francois Hollande wins on Sunday.  However, until the German federal elections in Q3 2013, it’s hard to see Angela Merkel moving to a more accommodating position on that front, and by then the double-dip might have shifted the economic landscape once again.  Likewise, it’s possible to see a more protectionist and isolationist agenda emerging, as witnessed by the growth of votes for radical right parties in many countries: Dutch elections will the touchstone for this, given the VVD’s role in bringing down the previous administration.

Alternatively, we risk getting more of what we’ve got, i.e. not much.  My greatest surprise at the Eurozone crisis has been that it’s taken as long as it has to see a response that still strikes too many people as half-hearted: even the Canadians (not the world’s most forceful types) waded in yesterday.  It’s hard to see what further disaster might need to happen to get people moving forward, but until they do, the weather’s not going to be the topmost concern on their minds.

It’s that time of year again, when the European Commission releases its draft budget for the following year, to howls of anguish and disgust from all sides.  I’ve already talked some weeks ago about how the EU budget isn’t like national budgets and shouldn’t be compared to them on a like-by-like bias, but today I want to address a slightly different issue.

Much of the criticism on the proposals stems from the 6.8% increase in commitments that the Commission has set out, at the same time that the EU (including the Commission itself) is asking national governments to make substantial cuts in their budgets to secure improvements in public finances, seen as a key part of the eurozone’s current crisis. “Do as I say, not do as I do” seems to be the message.

Some caveats are much in order here.  Firstly, the EU does not have any public debt, because it’s required to balance its books each year (i.e. the Commission has also produced calculations on the national contributions required to supplement other income streams to meet expenditure), so EU spending doesn’t add directly to the debt burden.  Secondly, the annual EU budget is agreed by member states (in the Council) and the European Parliament, so goes through extensive public debate and has the explicit requirement to have each institutions’ support.  Thirdly, annual budgets sit within the Multiannual Finance Framework which is adopted by the Council with Parliament’s assent (i.e. no amendments), so member states set out the broad trajectory of spending.  Fourthly, much spending requires match-funding by member states (especially in cohesion funds), so a significant amount of money never gets used.  Finally, as the Commission office in the UK notes, “The EU budget was around € 140 billion in 2011, which is very small compared to the sum of national budgets of all 27 EU Member states, which amount to more than € 6,300 billion. In other words, total government expenditure by the 27 Member States is almost 50 times bigger than the EU budget!”

So member states control spending and the sums are relatively small: problem solved?  Not at all.

As so often, perceptions matter here.  €150b is indeed small in comparison to national budgets, a mere 67cents per day per EU citizen, but it’s still a very big number. To use one topical number, it’s approximately twice the size of Greece’s budget, or about the same as all UK spending on groceries in 2011.  In short, to the woman on the Athens omnibus, it’s the absolutes that matter, not the relatives.  Likewise, the regular rebates that come to national exchequers from unutilised spending are not nearly enough to change that impression.

Margaret Thatcher understood this long before most other people: her battle in the 1980s to secure a British rebate (another topic that will be haunting discussions in the next two years) was in part informed by an understanding that every little percentage she could crawl back would allow her to get millions of pounds.  Regardless of the appropriateness of EU spending structures, until fonctionnaires in Brussels and MEPs in Strasbourg can see this, their troubles will continue.

I’m of a generation whose father would never tell them how to spell a word but directed them to a dictionary. I am also of a generation that grew up watching war films on a Sunday afternoon – which took me to Colditz a few years ago. There I stood dumbfounded by the ingenuity of men (because they were all men) who could make maps by using jelly, who could make a functioning sewing machine from scraps of wood they picked up, who could build an aeroplane, for heaven’s sake, from whatever came to hand.

So what does someone like me think when faced by a student who tells them that it is their job to tell them what to read? I’m told I have a face that says it all and judging by the student’s reaction to my look, it did precisely that on that particular day. That was a few years ago but the issue underlying that assertion is even more serious in an environment where students are increasingly referred to as “customers”. But surely our role in higher education still is to equip our students to function independently at university and beyond?

Increasingly, this will be about courage. Because we are in the midst of change. And what we know about periods of transition is that much can be lost that would be better retained, that the easier routes look more tempting, that dealing with the short-term challenges is more pressing than thinking about the long-term consequences. We know that students (and their parents) will become more demanding. We know that universities are under the pressure of league tables where student satisfaction, number of good degrees awarded, number of 1sts etc become more and more important – and it doesn’t take a prophet to see what the consequences of such pressures might be. So now we must, absolutely must, be sure that our aims, desired outcomes and methods line up and that they are properly articulated.

My aim is to create independent learners and to avoid all avenues that lead to dependence. The outcome, I hope, will be free-thinking, critical graduates who recognise that everything is subjective and therefore questionable; people who are prepared to challenge but able to be constructive. My methods? Well, these may be unpopular, but they will be about students doing the work, not me; they will be about students learning how to ask questions and how to seek answers. My methods will not include me acting as a transmission belt for knowledge. They will not see me telling students what to read and what to think.

I am not unaware of the major problem (I can hear the groans issuing from my students now), that I have only so much agency in the face of structures that often lead us into the realm of dependence. But this is a piece about agency. Structures will have to be for another day.

One of the more notable aspects of the French Presidential elections – which have their first round of voting this weekend – has been the extent to which all the candidates have been willing to bash the EU and European integration more generally.  As the very helpful manifesto comparison tool from Le Monde shows all too clearly, euroscepticism has been rife.

Of the ten candidates, three want to leave the EU, one wants to repeal Lisbon, three (including the two front-runners) want to renegotiate big chunks of the acquis and only three want to see more European integration (including a couple of old-school federalists).  For a country that has been in the driving seat of the EU since the 1940s, this is not a happy picture.

Of course, there are a number of big caveats here.  Firstly, the nature of the electoral system means that candidates have to mobilise their base, only to then tack to the centre if they get through to the second round.  Likewise, unlike British manifestos, French candidates’ statements do not carry any strong sense of obligation or commitment in subsequent legislative programmes.

Most importantly, we need to remember that France has always been less communautaire than we like to think. De Gaulle is emblematic of this notion of using the EU to further French objectives: CAP reform, GATT/WTO negotiations, the neo-liberal turn – all have been opposed by French governments of various political hues.  To use the phrase of one British official with whom I talked not so long ago, the French worked out a long time how to sound European while being even more obstructive than the UK.

Nevertheless, it is still remarkable how much the political debate in France has turned against the historic discourse of the Republic’s future laying in European integration.  Even if Sarkozy and Hollande (assuming they are the two who go through to the second round) do move to the centre, both will want to capture the substantial numbers of voters who feel challenged by globalisation and internationalisation, into which ‘Europe’ has argueably been rolled.  Coupled to the lack of desire by any major candidate (except perhaps Bayrou) to discuss the need for economic modernisation, it looks like the EU is going to have yet another awkward partner for the next five years.

PSA 2012 is coming to an end and I’ve had some really interesting and useful discussions with colleagues on a number of subjects.  One topic that came up was an old one, namely the continuing basic problems in researching euroscepticism.  From the very word itself, through definitional and classificational inadequacies to a lack of systematic descriptive work, pretty much every aspect of the subject is ripe for appraisal and reappraisal.  Even the most used framework – Taggart & Szczerbiak’s hard-soft model – is, by its authors’ own admission, fraught with problems, the very inclusiveness that has made it so popular for others obscuring many other aspects of interest.

This is where you might reasonably expect me to set out a resolution, but I fear that this isn’t going to be the case, or at least not completely.  Following one of our CRN panels on scepticism on the edges of Europe, I was struck by the thought that there was a way of resolving the desire to include country-specific explanations.  It’s not a very developed thought, but it’s a step towards offering something to this bigger set of challenges. Thanks to Adis Merdzanovic (University of Zurich) for prompting the idea and giving me many of the raw materials used below.

As researchers, we’re torn between parsimony and richness of explanation. In studying euroscepticism, this has meant we’ve often used core ideas of strategy or ideology to ‘explain’ why things happen, but once we locate a specific instance it quickly becomes apparent that there are lots of other contextual factors at play.  In particular, at a country-level there are particular political debates and touchstones.  So in Turkey we might be talking about how to label the Armenian genocide, while in France we reference the spirit of the Revolution and in Poland we have concerns about division and foreign oppression.  Put another way, British discussions of straight bananas don’t really travel, socially, politically or academically.

So how can we resolve the desire for a relatively simple explanation with the need to expose the peculiarities of the case in hand?  My thought is that we need to have a two-level model.  In the first level, we need to map the particular ‘lenses’ that we find in the case.  These frame the local debate and activity and help us to understand the environment in which we find ourselves.  In the second level, we would identify the underlying motivations that actors have when using the first-level lenses.  Here we could take our pick of factors, but to follow Adis’ model it could cover political, utilitarian and cultural dimensions.

There are numerous issues here, which I think are fairly obvious.  Most importantly, it’s not a particularly simple model, which makes me worry it has some redundancies within it.  Secondly, it doesn’t have a predictive capability.  Third, because of the first level it hampers cross-country comparison, although that would become easier with more cases, as patterns appear.

So, some gains, some costs.  Something for me to think about some more as I head back from Belfast.

It’s the first day of the Political Studies Association conference in Belfast.  I’ve been presenting on my recent work on eurosceptic discourse, but here I’d like to focus on some of the other themes that have been emerging.

The plenary with Matt Flinders on ‘Defending Politics’ was a genuine call to arms to political scientists.  Speaking on the 50^th anniversary of Crick’s classic text “In Defence of Politics” and of Matt’s our new title “Defending Politics”, He asked colleagues to move on from the “methodological masturbation” of the discipline and rebuild the connection to the real world.  His argument that too often our writing is dry and inaccessible is very true: when was the last time you read a politics text that gave you any sense of enjoyment, pleasure, or indeed any emotion?

The answer is not about working harder, Matt suggests, but working smarter, in order to close the capability-expectations gap (good to see European studies giving something back to the wider discussion of politic, incidentally).  Work needs to be recast for different audiences: conventional research is not only for traditional academic outlets, but also for more accessible research notes for practitioners and then as pieces for media for general consumption.

That’s an agenda that I’m more than happy to buy into.  Matt talked about getting more ‘fire in our bellies’: that might be a b it strong, but if political studies are to have any future, then we have to demonstrate our relevance to the lives of those around us.

PS’s piece on EU blogging last week made a very good argument about its core proposition that EU funding of blogging would be a terrible and counter-productive thing (thanks again to @ronpatz for taking sure I read it!).

As an aside, PS noted that that EU’s budget goes very disproportionately to agriculture, the result (he argued) of effective lobbying by farmers.  I can agree with that as an argument, but it’s worth just exploring some of the assumptions behind that and their related arguments, since they rarely get discussed.  It also gives me an opportunity to talk about the budget, which my colleagues know is a secret passion of mine.

Just to remind, here’s how the budget breaks down in 2012:

Since the reform of the budget structure some years ago, this is less obvious than it used to be, but in essence CAP spending falls under the green segments, and cohesion under the blue.

The argument that gets made (and I’m not suggesting PS does this) is that this distribution of spending shows how out of touch the EU is with real-world concerns, since agriculture is such a small part of EU GDP or employment (e.g. the BBC or Open Europe), while not spending on jobs or growth instead.

The point that seems to get lost in this is that the EU isn’t a state and doesn’t do the same things as a state, so its expenditure is not the same as a state’s.  I agree that CAP spending is in dire need of major reform, but member states did agree that spending in this field (pun not intended) should be europeanised, while retaining most other areas of government spending in national budgets.  The only way to reduce CAP spending as a percentage of the EU budget is to spend relatively more on other policy areas.  Given that no one is really suggesting that the EU takes over social security, pensions, education, health or defence budgets, there’s not much that can really be done.  Even reducing CAP spending on direct aid will not radically change matters, given the shift to rural development instead.

Once again, this is the use of an inappropriate yard-stick to measure the EU, albeit one that a short reflection could simply correct.

by John Turner

The 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iranmarked the beginning of the second Middle East Cold War. Saudi Arabia and Iran along with their allies have been engaged in cold confrontation since that time. However, in large part this began to thaw in the years following the election of Muhammad Khatami to the Iranian presidency in 1997. Recent events, most notably the Arab Spring along with the overthrow of Saddam Hussein in Iraq, have renewed old tensions.  Some have argued that the uprising in Syria has now set the country up to be a proxy conflict in a renewed Cold War between Russia and the West, dividing the world along the lines of Iran, Syria and Hezbollah on the one hand and Saudi Arabia and most of the Arab states on the other. Indeed Syria is in danger of becoming a proxy conflict in a cold war, but this conflict is not reflective of the Cold War that consumed the world in the 20^th century. It is rather a Middle East Cold War. It is driven not by external actors seeking to exploit regional uncertainty for advantage, but by internal rivalries that position the world’s great powers, the US, EU, Russia and China, in an awkward position, actors who for the most part prefer regional stability.

The politics of the Middle Eastare influenced by religion and sectarian divides, add to this ideological, ethnic and tribal tensions and the region is further complicated. The ideas of Arab nationalism, Islamic unity, foreign influence, as well as sectarian and ethnic divides have all plagued, undermined and at times strengthened the various states of the region. However, in spite of these persistent challenges to the sovereignty of individual states and the problems these have posed to political elites, the Middle East sub-state system can still be understood through the Westphalian lens. The Middle East Cold War is defined by state interests, however sectarian and ethnic divisions as well as ideological positions represent both the defining features of the Middle East Cold War and tools that are employed to fight it.

The influence of Iran on the Shia populations of the region, who represent a majority in Iraq and account for nearly 70% of the population of thePersian Gulf, has been a consistent concern for Arab leaders. Before the fall of the Iraqi regime in 2003 Iraq served as a buffer against Iranian hegemonic ambitions, real or imaginary. In fact, Iran had never successfully managed to convince the Shia to rebel against their Sunni masters, as was demonstrated most clearly during the Iran Iraq War 1980-1988. Jordan’s King Abdullah warned before the US led invasion of Iraq that if the Ba’ath regime in Bagdad were to be dismantled a Shia Crescent would engulf the region from Iran across Iraq into Lebanon and Syria. In reality, however, the Middle East Cold War has less to do with sectarian divisions and is linked rather to differing interpretations of regional politics. Iran and its affiliates are transformational actors seeking to limit Western influence and undermine Israel. The Status Quo Arab bloc seeks greater regional stability and is willing to tolerate US military presence as it serves as a security guarantor.

The Arab Spring represents both an opportunity and a danger to these cold war adversaries. Egyptwhich was once firmly bonded toSaudi Arabia, friendly to Western powers and committed to the Camp David Accords, is now an unknown. Iran may well have seen the prospects of an Islamist government in Egypt, though of Sunni origin, as an opportunity for stronger relations with that country and as well an opportunity to peel Egypt away from its traditional allies. The events inEgypt however were largely an Egyptian enterprise. Syria may not be quite so simple. Iran openly championed the revolutions in Egypt, Libya, Tunisia and Bahrain, heralding them as a blow to Western intrusion and a victory for Islam. However, no such cheerful praise was afforded the Syrian revolutionaries from Ahmadinejad or the Ayatollahs. With the uprising against Bashir al-Assad’s regime the tables to some extent are being turned onIran. Its erstwhile ally is under threat and the Arab bloc may itself see an opportunity to remove Iran’s most valuable ally. With the West unwilling, or more likely unable, to intervene in the crisis, regional players no doubt will. Saudi Arabian clerics have urged jihad against the Syrian regime and the Arab league has attempted to stop al-Assad’s crackdown. More concerning, however, may be that the Saudis are arming the Syrian Free Army through tribal channels in Iraq and Lebanon. At present,Iran may be less able to influence the conflict directly, apart from symbolic acts of sending war vessels to anchor in Syrian ports, but the regime has other friends. What appears evident is that the Syrian affair will not remain a domestic one. The intervention of outside powers may ensure the conflict endures for some time. Unlike Libya, Syria is a key strategic player in the Middle Eastand its fate represents both an opportunity and a peril to the states of the region that could well tip the balance in the Middle East Cold War. Some may see this as a positive development weakening Iran’s ability to stretch its influence into the heart of the Middle Eastand bringing an end to a bothersome and distasteful regime. However, the cost in humanitarian terms will likely be even higher than at present and the prospect for regional stability significantly diminished.

John Turner is a PhD candidate in the School of Politics