written by Donatella Cugliandro and published by "The International Spectator", Vol.44, March 2009, pp.185-197, www.iai.it
The proliferation of Italian civil society organisations (CSOs) in recent years has drawn growing attention from public institutions. Hence the establishment of the National Agency on Non-profit Organisations (Agenzia per le ONLUS) in 2000. Besides providing legal advice to non-profit organisations (NPOs) and gathering and disseminating information on their activities in Italy, this state agency intends to foster a closer relationship with its counterparts in other European countries, thus launching and contributing to several EU programmes with the aim of shaping and consolidating a “European civil society”.
The role of Italian CSOs in the European, and, more broadly, the international arena has also become the subject of lively debate. This article examines three Italian CSOs which are among the best organised and most active and have a remarkable capacity for projection abroad.
The groups examined – Libera, Legambiente and the Community of Sant'Egidio – pursue value-based goals: promotion of the rule of law (Libera), environmental protection (Legambiente) and international solidarity (Community of Sant'Egidio). While other case studies could have been selected, this article focuses on these three in so far as they have different yet comparable characteristics, making it possible to delve into the dynamics underlying the foreign policy dimension of Italian CSO activities. The article also examines the strengths and weaknesses of these organisations, opening the ground for further thoughts about their future.
The explosion of Italian CSOs. The march of the unknowns
Civil society groups and organisations are increasingly gaining ground in both peaceful societies as well as in contexts marked by conflict. The literature broadly acknowledges the increasingly prominent role that CSOs are playing in society. And their activity is, of course, influenced by another fundamental factor: globalisation. This phenomenon has prompted CSOs to explore new horizons, adapting themselves to the new global dimension. Hence the explosion of transnational advocacy networks (TANs) and the perception of a more connected “global civil society”. Keck and Sikkink, for instance, point to the role of TANs in domestic and international politics, arguing that political culture around the world, together with the creation of a new global civil society, has raised interest in international networking and spurred transnational activism. Thus, the internationalisation of CSOs has gradually led local movements to become active at the international level as well.
Such changes have also manifested themselves among Italian CSOs and a flurry of writings, essays and documents delving into these issues has appeared. The only reliable data regarding NPOs and CSOs, however, stems from the only statistical analysis ever carried out in Italy on the subject, published by the Italian National Institute of Statistics (ISTAT) in 1999.
The most striking point highlighted by the survey concerns the rise in the number of NPOs: according to the (partial) data for 1991, there were 61,376 NPOs in Italy at that time, whereas in 1999 they numbered 221,412, an increase of 260.7 percent. Since then, an important constitutional reform has further guaranteed the growth of civil society and non-profit organisations. According to the new Article 118 introduced into the Constitution in 2001, “[t]he State, Regional, Provincial and Municipal administrations favour the free initiative of citizens, as individuals and organisations, in order to accomplish activities of general interest on the basis of the principle of subsidiarity”. Hence the principle of “horizontal” subsidiarity guarantees constitutional recognition of NPOs.
This new and growing third sector has both an economic dimension and a social one. Indeed, in the last twenty years, the “non-profit world” has generated approximately 1 million jobs in Italy. The Agency mentioned earlier is also engaged in creating a transnational web of information and communication at the European level to transcend national boundaries and make it easier for CSOs to play a deeper role and have more sway in international issues and policies. In this respect, the Agency signed a Protocol of Understanding with the EU Representation in Italy in 2007 to help strengthen the Italian third sector’s commitment to EU activities, as well as to reinforce cooperative ties with CSOs in other member states.
Italian civil society in international affairs: three case studies
A look will now be taken at some Italian organisations that can be seen as having or having had an influential role in foreign policy, either by creating transnational links with counterparts in other countries or by fostering an “international interest” on specific issues. One point has to be stressed: the importance of “values” in the proliferation of Italian CSOs. Values have proven to be of the utmost importance in Italian civil society, whether it be respect for the rule of law, protection of the environment, non-violence, solidarity or the fight against poverty. These values represent the common thread in each of the three groups of CSOs analysed below.
Respect for the rule of law. Libera, Terra del Fuoco, FLARE.
According to the FBI, “the economic impact alone [of organised crime] is staggering: it’s estimated that global organised crime reaps illegal profits of around US$ 1 trillion per year.” Italian society is particularly sensitive to this issue, mainly as a consequence of the pervasiveness of various forms of organised crime, with different names, from region to region. This social disease affects southern Italian regions in particular, where organised crime has been allowed to prosper without any definitive cure implemented so far. But it has gradually spread throughout the peninsula and, as we shall see below, beyond it. The blame lies on both sides: neither political actors and governments nor social actors (e.g. associations, trade unions, the Church, private citizens) have been able to take effective action against this great Italian evil.
Nevertheless, some changes loom on the horizon, especially in that part of Italy which is most strongly affected by the problem. In recent years, and on some occasions in recent decades, Italian society has gradually taken a more proactive stance vis-à-vis some issues regarded as particularly sensitive. It is as if the “collective consciousness” has been awakened by events that have taken place. Pressure from civil society has gradually mounted, particularly from the more organised and influential Italian CSOs.
This is the case of Libera (Free), an association established in 1995 to involve and support those interested in the fight against the mafia and organised crime. Less than 15 years later, this CSO has created a nationwide – and transnational – web comprising approximately 1200 associations, groups and schools, and built up synergies between the political and cultural spheres in an attempt to promote a culture of lawfulness.
One of the most effective and successful campaigns promoted by this organisation was for the introduction of a law making it possible to use the real estate confiscated from organised crime for social purposes. Law 109/96 is at the forefront in the fight against organised crime in Italy and represents the first example of its kind. No similar laws have been approved by other countries so far, making it one small success in the fight for the rule of law, with Libera its main proponent.
Libera has also promoted other initiatives such as the setting up of “Libera Memory”, a comprehensive database of mafia victims, recording their names and faces. In 1995, Libera chose 21 March, the first day of spring and thus a symbol of hope and renewal, as the “Day of Memory”.
Of the associations that have joined Libera’s campaigns, one stands out for its efforts to give this work a greater international, and more specially, European dimension: Terra del Fuoco. This CSO is committed to supporting the process of European integration in that it believes that “the constitution of a transnational, [European] subject [is] the generational objective of the children of the 20th century”. What is important here is the partnership established between Terra del Fuoco and Libera and, above all, their mutual project. Since August 2007, they have been working together to establish FLARE, an international – mainly European – network of CSOs. The acronym stands for “Freedom, Legality and Rights in Europe” and the association therefore represents an “international version” of Libera, devoted to the social struggle against all forms of mafia and transnational organised crime. FLARE was established in Brussels on 10 June 2008, after a declaration of membership was signed at the European Parliament by nearly 50 associations and CSOs from 25 European and neighbourhood countries. FLARE intends to focus on two main points, which Libera already stresses. The first is the approval of European legislation combating organised crime, modelled on the Italian Law 109/96. The second is the creation of a “memory bank”, establishing a well-organised network of families and individuals who have been victims of mafia crimes. On the day of its foundation, FLARE put forward a proposal to the European Parliament and Commission to make 21 March the “European Day of Memory for Mafia Victims” and to set up a European Agency for the confiscation and transfer of real estate belonging to organised crime.
FLARE is also committed to finding European funds for the fight against organised crime in order to favour the emergence of national CSOs such as Libera, thus allowing for the “bottom-up push” against all forms of mafia to continue. Luigi Ciotti, the founder of Libera, has stated that, “To the globalisation of organised crime, we reply with the globalisation of citizenship.” The EU Vice President and Commissioner responsible for Justice, Freedom and Security, Jacques Barrot, declared his strong support for the Italian-led initiative.
Libera has also promoted “Libera Internazionale”, a project pushing for, among other things, the implementation of laws modelled on the Italian Law 109/96 in those regions and countries worldwide where organised crime flourishes, such as Colombia, where organised crime operates undisturbed. To that end, Libera has asked the Milan provincial administration to set up an observatory to raise awareness of the Colombian reality and give voice to its victims. This is by far the most notable example of the foreign policy influence this Italian CSO has had on public institutions.
Protecting the environment. Legambiente
Since forms of mafia are so profoundly embedded in Italian society that their tentacles are able to reach all facets of daily life. In recent years, some sectors of organised crime have added to one of their usual activities, construction without building permits, to the fruitful businesses of illegally trafficking in waste and waste disposal, and illegal excavation: in a word, “ecomafia”. This term was coined by the leading and by far most influential environmental organisation on the crowded Italian environmental CSO scene, Legambiente. Founded in 1980, when the global spread of cross-cutting “green movements” led to the emergence of “green parties”, today Legambiente, an organisation addressing all aspects of environmental policy, has more than 1,000 local groups, 20 regional committees and nearly 115,000 members.
In 1994, the state of emergency declared in Naples as a result of ineffective waste disposal was not positively solved, also as a result of the involvement of organised crime. The problem reached a climax in 2007-08, when the government decided to construct new incinerators and follow a new strategy for waste disposal. Although the issue was suddenly brought into the international spotlight after the garbage piled up in the city, even though the garbage problem was only one of the causes that opened Pandora’s box, Legambiente has worked on the waste/mafia link since 1997, when it published its first Ecomafia Report. It has continued to do so, working with police forces and a group of judges and lawyers specialised in environmental crime. According to the latest Report (2008), the “ecomafia phenomenon” is gaining ground dramatically: 83 offences are committed every day, 3 per hour, with an increase of 27.3 percent with respect to 2006. In 2006, Legambiente joined Libera to promote the fight against all forms of mafia and support six main values: freedom, justice, information, solidarity, legality and citizenship.
Legambiente also gives importance to the international dimension of this problem: waste moves undisturbed not only from the Italian peninsula to China, Hong Kong, Pakistan, Tunisia and Senegal but also in the opposite direction, coming to Italy from Albania, Croatia and Serbia. It is this globalisation of the phenomenon that prompted the CSO to think up a globalised reaction. To this end, Legambiente recently organised a “No Ecomafia tour” that also traveled to Brussels in an attempt to generate deeper cooperation among citizens and EU institutions, as well as better knowledge of the issue at a European level.
To improve transnational cooperation on this issue, in 2003, Italy and Spain launched a one-year research project on the ecomafia in both countries, the first comparative study of its kind ever published in Europe. The project focused on the role of organised crime in controlling and facilitating the illegal trafficking of dangerous and special wastes since the mid-1990s. The study, co-financed by the European Commission, represented the first attempt to map the recent tendencies of transnational environmental crime. Following the Italian environmental lobbying activities, in February 2007, the European Commission together with the European Parliament adopted a new proposal for a directive on environmental crime. In this respect, Michele Buonomo, president of Legambiente Campania, supported the approval of an EU directive on environmental crime by the ENVI (Environment, Public Health and Food Safety) Committee delegation to Italy in 2006.
Hence, although Legambiente first came to the fore with the motto “think globally, act locally”, it has increasingly acted globally as well. Indeed, while working locally in order to be rooted and have a say in Italian society, Legambiente has engaged more and more in international activism. The CSO is a member of the European Environmental Bureau, which includes the most influential environmental organisations in Europe, and the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN). In addition, Legambiente opened a European office in Brussels in 2000 to promote a “clean and virtuous environmental lobby”. The European branch publishes Europe Watch, a “civil society observatory” on the European environment.
Exemplifying Legambiente’s step-by-step international involvement is Goletta Verde, a laboratory ship that verifies the conditions of Italy’s coastal waters every summer. This campaign has aroused so much interest that, in the last five years, Legambiente has launched a joint project with other Mediterranean countries, Profondo Blu, supported by the Italian Ministry of Environment.
Legambiente has also fostered global cooperation with its counterparts, especially the Italian branches of Greenpeace and the World Wildlife Fund (WWF). With the former, Legambiente has campaigned against the dumping of toxic waste in Somalia and in favour of the use of wind energy. With the latter, it has worked to oppose hunting and to propose heavy transportation taxes. Together, the three have supported the implementation of the Kyoto Protocol in Italy and the “No al Nucleare” campaign, against the use of nuclear energy for civilian purposes.
Legambiente’s commitment to the nuclear issue can be traced back to the 1980s and especially the 1986 Chernobyl disaster, which provoked a wave of fear and opposition to nuclear energy. Rome-based mass protests reached a peak of 200,000 participants, paving the way for the victory of the 1987 referendum banning the use of nuclear energy. This resulted in the shutdown of Italy’s four nuclear power plants. Furthermore, Legambiente promoted the “Chernobyl project” in collaboration with Bielorussian institutions, offering hospitality to children affected by nuclear radiation. As a spin-off effect of the anti-nuclear green movement, the Italian Green Party came into being in the late 1980s. “The anti-nuclear victory consecrated green issues at central in the country’s public debate. They became fashionable, in.”
Commitment to solidarity. The Comunity of Sant’Egidio
As already tested in the cases of Libera and Legambiente, the respect for and commitment to some fundamental values on the part of Italian CSOs is striking. Especially when it comes to principles such as solidarity, peace or non-violence the need for safeguarding them is perceived as essential. This is the case of the Sant’Egidio Community, a Rome-based organisation born in 1968 on the initiative of a group of high school students. The Community was initially established as a solidarity group devoting itself to the poor and the dispossessed, whose primary objective was to help the elderly, the mentally and physically disabled, children, immigrants and all marginalised people. The periphery of Rome was the centre of its activities.
Unlike Libera and Legambiente, this CSO benefits from a particular “glue” which guarantees that its members adhere completely to St. Egidio’s values and guiding principles, that is religion. Indeed, the organisation was born as an ecumenical movement aiming to spread the Gospel; today it considers itself a public association of laypeople of the Church. Catholicism has inevitably permeated the CSO’s discourse, even influencing the method of recruitment within its inner circle. The original members of the organisation are embedded in religious circles, and still today the relationship between the Community and the Holy See is so close that the former might be considered an increasingly powerful branch of the latter. In this respect, the founder of the organisation, Andrea Riccardi, commenting on the meeting between the Community and US President George W. Bush in 2007, wrote that this unusual encounter attested to the capacity of the Catholic Church to be universal through its commitment of local institutions. Notwithstanding the mechanism of co-optation adopted for recruitment of leadership and the strong links with the Vatican, the organisation has gradually reversed this top-down approach, allowing the Community to expand and giving society at large a chance to be part of it.
Since religion is the glue of the organisation, it goes without saying that inter-religious dialogue is regarded as essential. To this end, since 1986, the Community of Sant’Egidio has organised an annual international meeting to foster dialogue, especially among the three religions of the Mediterranean, that is Christianity, Islam and Judaism. The last conference, held in Cyprus in November 2008, highlighted the link between peace and inter-religious dialogue: it is hardly possible to achieve the former without working together on the latter. Forty representatives of different religions attended the meeting, symbolically crossing the boundaries between the Greek and Turkish sides of Cyprus.
To date, the Community has transcended national boundaries, establishing its offices in 70 countries worldwide and counting more than 50,000 members. Sant’Egidio’s objectives have expanded as well: the value of solidarity still drives the Community’s missions, immediately followed by the goal of peacemaking, which is the focus of most activities abroad. This is particularly true with regard to the organisation’s engagement in conflict resolution, as in the cases of Mozambique and Guatemala.
With regard to the former, the Community was able to open up a dialogue between the two main national actors, that is the Frelimo regime and the Renamo guerrilla movement. The most effective instrument that the Community put into effect was to recognise both the parties to the conflict as legitimate actors, inviting the leader of Renamo, Alphonso Marceta Dhlakama, to the first meeting between the two sides in Rome in 1990. The Community of Sant’Egidio acted as a neutral mediator, stressing that peacemaking was its ultimate goal and avoiding rallying one or the other side in opposition. The activity carried out by the Community was collateral to official diplomacy, but it strongly contributed to the resolution of the conflict: as then UN Secretary General Boutros Boutros-Ghali declared, the Sant’Egidio formula is admirable “for this unique mixture of governmental and non-governmental peacemaking activity”.
Similarly, with respect to the conflict in Guatemala, the Community worked to create informal and direct contacts between the government exponents and members of the guerrilla movement (Union Rivolucionaria Nacional de Guatemala). While maintaining contacts with both the United Nations and the governments involved, the Italian CSO held a meeting of both parties in Rome in 1996.
More recently, in March 2007, the Community participated in the debate on the agreement signed in Burkina Faso between the parties involved in the civil conflict in Ivory Coast. On this occasion, both sides called for the participation of the Community, thus acknowledging its role as an honest broker.
Besides its engagement in conflict resolution, the Sant’Egidio Community works in three other fields. First, it is deeply involved in international solidarity, especially in those areas particularly affected by wars, natural disasters or other kinds of crisis. A critical case in point is the humanitarian aid offered to the Southeast Asian regions hit by the tsunami in 2004. The Community implemented a package of emergency aid and development assistance for the populations. Since 2000, the Community has also activated projects offering help to the Albanian population, giving priority to children, the mentally and physically disabled and the homeless.
Second, as a consequence of its commitment to non-violence, the Community of Sant’Egidio has always proclaimed its opposition to the death penalty. In September 2008, the Community organised an international meeting in Rome, inviting representatives from 16 countries, to debate the worldwide abolition of the death penalty. Under the banner of “No justice without life”, the Community has promoted the establishment of the “International Day against the Death Penalty” on 30 November. More importantly, it has founded the “World Coalition against the Death Penalty” to coordinate the global initiatives taken worldwide. Furthermore, as proof that the Community has not forgotten its original objective, that is solidarity, it has created a web of contacts allowing people from all parts of the world to write online to the more than 1000 persons sentenced to death.
Third, although involved on all continents, the Community is especially concerned with the African countries, which provided the first international terrain for its activities. As war is but one of the unsolved problems afflicting these areas, the Italian CSO has gradually tackled other important and outstanding issues. Among them, the AIDS epidemic. Since 2002, the Community has launched the Drug Resource Enhancement against AIDS and Malnutrition (DREAM) program to slow down the spread of the disease. The project guarantees therapy in accordance with Western standards and allows for free and easy access to medical structures. So far, DREAM operates in ten African countries, but while it has reached nationwide diffusion in Mozambique and Malawi, it has fewer structures and a lower level of organisation in the other countries.
Towards the future - some expectations
These three case studies attest to the increasingly active role of Italian CSOs in the international arena. Without pretending to consider them the sole representatives of the broad spectrum of Italian CSOs, their outstanding relevance is incontrovertible. Furthermore, these three CSOs reflect the conclusions drawn by the Civicus Civil Society Index Report, which analysed all Italian CSOs. As stated in the Report, values drive Italian civil society in its quest for a more influential role.
The report identifies four main indicators in its analysis of civil society: the structure of CSOs, the environment that surrounds them, the values they refer to, and the impact of their activities. Of the four, the Report concludes that the third variable takes on the greatest importance in Italy. Indeed, indicators regarding CSOs’ attitudes towards democracy, solidarity and non-violence received the highest scores, as did those regarding environmental protection. As a result, the “value variable”, as defined in this article, is fundamental in assessing the success of some Italian CSOs: Libera’s commitment to restoring the rule of law, Legambiente’s to protecting the environment, the Comunity of Sant’Egidio’s to assuring international solidarity.
Nonetheless, this variable alone cannot explain the relative effectiveness of CSO activities in the international realm. The strength of Italian CSOs deriving from their commitment to values is counterbalanced, sometimes outweighed, by certain weaknesses. In particular, three factors risk downsizing the influence of CSOs on a national, and therefore also international, level:
• the role of the state: it presumes to be the legitimate actor to deal with public issues, thus undermining the growing importance of civil society hitherto;
• the role of political parties: regarded as the most influential channels of citizen participation in the public sphere, these actors tend to overshadow CSOs;
• the role of the Catholic Church: the social pre-eminence of this institution tends to limit the role and the room for action of secular CSOs.
What do the three case studies tell us about these three sets of limitations? The government and, more broadly, all state institutions tend to view CSOs positively, as an expression of democracy and a critical channel towards society. However, mistrust and low esteem for the stances of some CSOs contaminate the discourse between the two sides. This ambivalence has been defined as a sort of “Dr. Jekyll-Mr. Hyde syndrome”, according to which state institutions have two views of Italian CSOs: “as a resource and as a threat”. These views have in turn tempted many from civil society organisations to get directly involved in politics and institutions in order to be able to have a greater say on policy than simply through civil society activism. The risk however is of being overwhelmed by institutional rules and ties, as was the case with the Italian Green Party, established as a political branch of the green movement, but thereafter caught up in political power dynamics. Instead of committing itself to further strengthening the link between civil society and Legambiente, for example, the green movement became involved and remained hemmed in by political power.
The overarching focus on party politics in Italy tends to exclude CSOs, which are not directly involved in day-to-day politics and policymaking. Whereas the Italian public is likely to agree on many of the values that prompt CSOs to act, people appear to engage in civic activism only to a limited extent because of the predominance of the state and the belief that CSOs are by and large politically “irrelevant”.
As a result, a more cooperative yet distinct role on the part of the state is by far the most important goal that CSOs need to achieve if they are to function as influential actors in both the domestic and international arena. Learning from these experiences, information and communications have to be directed first and foremost at political and institutional actors, thus generating a more fluid debate between the two sides. Not only do Italian CSOs have to extend their voice within society, but they also have to involve the state in their activities and gain the state’s support for their activities abroad. In this respect, some positive steps have been taken to enhance national legislation in response to the demands of CSOs, as was the case with Law 109/96 on the social use of real estate confiscated from organised crime, by far Libera’s greatest success.
In addition, the lack of accurate information as well as interest by the Italian media towards civil society activity must be considered. The representation of CSO activities in the media is often distorted negatively, preventing the Italian public from fully recognising the importance and contribution of CSOs. A case in point is the lack of information and articles on the international meeting on inter-religious dialogue held in Cyprus and organised by the Sant’Egidio Community. Of the most influential Italian newspapers, only La Stampa published an article on the subject. Both state institutions and the media’s attitudes hold sway over the public, contributing to the mounting “popular” mistrust and narrow opinions on these organisations. Sometimes they tend to be conceived and described as a collateral branch of state institutions, as if they do not have their own social personality and independence.
Finally, relations with the Catholic Church have their problematic sides. The influence of the Church risks diluting – perhaps even overwhelming – the power of Italian civil society. On a European and international level, the Church could act as a common thread among Italian CSOs and their counterparts in other countries, in so far as it is a transnational organisation whose members are located worldwide, in the way that Protestant human rights organisations in northern Europe are tightly linked through networks such as APRODEV (Association of the World Council of Churches related Development Organisations in Europe). This could be important for FLARE, for example, considering its appeal to and overlap with Christian values. It goes without saying that this connection with the Catholic Church is already evident in the case of the Sant’Egidio Community, which is strongly linked to the Holy See and benefits from this relationship on an international level.
More must also be done with respect to education and information. Some youth training programmes and research projects are already underway, such as Libera’s seminars scheduled for 2008-09 in London, Naples and The Hague, or the comparative study on ecomafias to be carried out in Italy and Spain. Nevertheless, the problem is to assess the audience of such events and studies, their size and potential for growth.
In all three cases considered, the CSOs were first activated by a small group of citizens. However, it is precisely the enlargement of this inner circle that guarantees the success of any CSO. If this does not happen, the organisation risks becoming close-minded, contradicting the real reason why it was established. Hence the need for a global and globalised communication on civil society activism. This means, first and foremost, strengthening and deepening transnational links by transcending national boundaries.
In this respect, in 2007 Johan Galtung, the founder of TRANSCEND International, a peace and development network, stated unequivocally: “[…] to contribute something to solving big problems you must think big thoughts. Small thoughts will do for small problems, like standardization of car bumpers. Check your thoughts, let them grow with the people concerned. […] The non-governments can probably do it better than the governments.” The role of Italian CSOs in foreign policy needs to be shaped on these grounds.
Concluding remarks
It is rather difficult to summarise the wide scenario of Italian CSOs that has expanded in the last decade. This article has focused on some of their emerging characteristics by taking account of three of the most influential CSOs in Italy. The goal was to provide some insight into the international outreach of Italian civil society.
One characteristic of Italian civil society organisations that emerges is their attachment to values and the will to promote them. The three case studies were chosen in that they represent telling examples of organisations born to safeguard some specific value, be it the rule of law, the environment, peace or solidarity. Their added value has consisted of transcending national boundaries and proclaiming the respect of such principles abroad as well as within the country. The call of these organisations to society has been powerful precisely because they appeal to powerful values, which are effective in mobilising transnational groups and linking them worldwide.
In addition, the three CSOs have also been able to “capture” institutional attention, obtaining important recognition within their country and beyond it. What is essential for reaching an international audience is to gain political support from state institutions, in order to be legitimated and have more of a say within and abroad. Nevertheless, CSOs must maintain their independence from political power, acting as separate actors whose voice represents the expression of the people rather than the echo of the government.
References
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Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
La Turchia si allontana dall'Occidente?
Donatella Cugliandro
Published in "Lettere Internazionali", Il Mulino, March 23, 2009.
Domenica 29 marzo si terranno in Turchia le elezioni amministrative, che decideranno la sorte di oltre duecentomila sindaci e di centinaia di governatori provinciali. Ma la portata del voto va decisamente al di là della dimensione locale e
appare piuttosto come un test particolarmente significativo per il Partito per la Giustizia e lo Sviluppo (AKP), che è al potere dal 2002 e che nel 2007 ha mostrato di godere ancora di ottima salute, aggiudicandosi le elezioni politiche con un solido 46,6% dei voti. In particolare il voto fornirà indicazioni utili sull’effettivo consenso dell’opinione pubblica turca alla progressiva de-occidentalizzazione del paese portata avanti dall’AKP nell’ultimo biennio, tanto sul piano interno quanto su quello internazionale. Sul piano interno numerosi provvedimenti del governo sono andati in direzione di una progressiva islamizzazione della società turca. A partire dalla proposta di riforma che "reinterpretasse" (abrogandola sostanzialmente) la legge che vieta l’utilizzo del velo islamico in tutti gli uffici pubblici, comprese le università. La Corte Costituzionale però ha bocciato questa riforma, dichiarando l’AKP colpevole di "attività anti-secolare", senza tuttavia accogliere la richiesta di messa al bando del partito avanzata dalla Procura Generale. La vicenda ha comunque avuto delle ripercussioni negative sull’AKP, il quale ha gradualmente perso il sostegno dell’opinione pubblica anche in merito alla gestione del processo di adesione all’Unione Europea. La popolazione turca si mostra sempre più insofferente verso le politiche adottate dal governo per rispettare i vincoli imposti da Bruxelles. Da parte sua il governo di Ankara accusa le istituzioni comunitarie del congelamento di alcuni capitoli del negoziato, accusando l’Ue di essere sottomessa ai diktat dei paesi ostili – Francia in primis – all’ingresso turco nel club dei Ventisette.
Il terzo versante di questa de-occidentalizzazione della Turchia è il progressivo rafforzamento delle relazioni con alcuni paesi dell’area mediorientale, tra cui l’Iran e l’Arabia Saudita, nonché il rapporto privilegiato che pare avere stretto con uno degli attori più discussi e problematici della regione, Hamas. Assistiamo qui ad una sorta di paradosso. Se attraverso questo riposizionamento il governo turco sta tentando di ammorbidire il tradizionale filo-atlantismo incondizionato per accreditarsi come mediatore in diversi tavoli negoziali dell’area mediorientale – dalla crisi del Caucaso, alla questione nucleare iraniana, passando per il conflitto arabo-israeliano – agli occhi di molti partner occidentali esso pare essersi sbilanciato troppo sull’altro fronte. In particolare la credibilità di Ankara sulla scena internazionale ha subito un duro colpo in occasione dell’ultimo Forum Economico Mondiale di Davos, il 29 gennaio scorso. Lo scontro tra Erdogan e Peres (durante il quale il premier turco ha abbandonato il panel di discussione accusando l’interlocutore di "parlare ad alta voce per coprire una coscienza sporca. Quando è il momento di uccidere voi sapete bene come farlo") ha da un lato infiammato l’opinione pubblica turca, che ha celebrato Erdogan come un eroe nazionale, ma ha reso definitivamente poco credibile la possibilità che Ankara svolga nel prossimo futuro un ruolo di mediazione tra Israele e Autorità Palestinese. Ad affossare definitivamente questa ipotesi è stata poi la decisione presa dalla Procura di Ankara di aprire un’indagine contro i vertici israeliani per "genocidio, torture e crimini contro l’umanità" commessi in occasione della recente operazione militare nella Striscia di Gaza. L’esacerbarsi della tensione tra Tel Aviv e Ankara rischia oltretutto di minare i rapporti tra la Turchia e gli Usa, in un momento particolarmente infelice, specie all’indomani delle aperture di Obama all’Iran. Per Washington la convergenza di vedute tra Erdogan e Peres era ormai divenuta un elemento portante della strategia statunitense in Medioriente, essendo sia la Turchia sia Israele due alleati storici degli Stati Uniti nella regione. Questo legame privilegiato ha a lungo garantito – nelle principali sedi internazionali – il sostegno degli Usa alla Turchia in merito all’annosa questione del riconoscimento del genocidio armeno. Dopo Davos alcuni analisti hanno previsto un’inversione di questa tendenza, sebbene nelle scorse settimane il neo-inquilino della Casa Bianca, Barack Obama, abbia preferito glissare sul tema, rinviando a una data da definire l’annunciato dibattito al Congresso sul riconoscimento del genocidio armeno. Questa è probabilmente la conferma di come le relazioni tra Stati Uniti e Turchia rappresentino ancora un tassello fondamentale dell’agenda di politica estera americana (Washington, in particolare, non ha smesso di confidare in un ruolo di mediazione di Ankara tra Siria e Israele).
Alla vigilia dell’attesissimo tour europeo di Obama – che si concluderà proprio ad Ankara il prossimo 7 aprile – occorre insomma comprendere se effettivamente la Turchia stia immaginando di poter avviare una strategia di politica estera più indipendente da due attori sino a ieri fondamentali per le sue scelte internazionali, quali l’Unione Europea e gli Stati Uniti. L’esito delle prossime amministrative in Turchia e l’entità del successo elettorale dell’AKP – in cui potrebbe giocare un ruolo determinante proprio il coup de théâtre di Davos, che pare aver risollevato le sorti di un leader in calo di consensi - potranno offrire importanti indicazioni a riguardo. L’impressione è che lo sfogo del 29 gennaio sia stata una mossa elettorale di cui Erdogan non abbia considerato tutte le possibili conseguenze.
Published in "Lettere Internazionali", Il Mulino, March 23, 2009.
Domenica 29 marzo si terranno in Turchia le elezioni amministrative, che decideranno la sorte di oltre duecentomila sindaci e di centinaia di governatori provinciali. Ma la portata del voto va decisamente al di là della dimensione locale e
appare piuttosto come un test particolarmente significativo per il Partito per la Giustizia e lo Sviluppo (AKP), che è al potere dal 2002 e che nel 2007 ha mostrato di godere ancora di ottima salute, aggiudicandosi le elezioni politiche con un solido 46,6% dei voti. In particolare il voto fornirà indicazioni utili sull’effettivo consenso dell’opinione pubblica turca alla progressiva de-occidentalizzazione del paese portata avanti dall’AKP nell’ultimo biennio, tanto sul piano interno quanto su quello internazionale. Sul piano interno numerosi provvedimenti del governo sono andati in direzione di una progressiva islamizzazione della società turca. A partire dalla proposta di riforma che "reinterpretasse" (abrogandola sostanzialmente) la legge che vieta l’utilizzo del velo islamico in tutti gli uffici pubblici, comprese le università. La Corte Costituzionale però ha bocciato questa riforma, dichiarando l’AKP colpevole di "attività anti-secolare", senza tuttavia accogliere la richiesta di messa al bando del partito avanzata dalla Procura Generale. La vicenda ha comunque avuto delle ripercussioni negative sull’AKP, il quale ha gradualmente perso il sostegno dell’opinione pubblica anche in merito alla gestione del processo di adesione all’Unione Europea. La popolazione turca si mostra sempre più insofferente verso le politiche adottate dal governo per rispettare i vincoli imposti da Bruxelles. Da parte sua il governo di Ankara accusa le istituzioni comunitarie del congelamento di alcuni capitoli del negoziato, accusando l’Ue di essere sottomessa ai diktat dei paesi ostili – Francia in primis – all’ingresso turco nel club dei Ventisette.
Il terzo versante di questa de-occidentalizzazione della Turchia è il progressivo rafforzamento delle relazioni con alcuni paesi dell’area mediorientale, tra cui l’Iran e l’Arabia Saudita, nonché il rapporto privilegiato che pare avere stretto con uno degli attori più discussi e problematici della regione, Hamas. Assistiamo qui ad una sorta di paradosso. Se attraverso questo riposizionamento il governo turco sta tentando di ammorbidire il tradizionale filo-atlantismo incondizionato per accreditarsi come mediatore in diversi tavoli negoziali dell’area mediorientale – dalla crisi del Caucaso, alla questione nucleare iraniana, passando per il conflitto arabo-israeliano – agli occhi di molti partner occidentali esso pare essersi sbilanciato troppo sull’altro fronte. In particolare la credibilità di Ankara sulla scena internazionale ha subito un duro colpo in occasione dell’ultimo Forum Economico Mondiale di Davos, il 29 gennaio scorso. Lo scontro tra Erdogan e Peres (durante il quale il premier turco ha abbandonato il panel di discussione accusando l’interlocutore di "parlare ad alta voce per coprire una coscienza sporca. Quando è il momento di uccidere voi sapete bene come farlo") ha da un lato infiammato l’opinione pubblica turca, che ha celebrato Erdogan come un eroe nazionale, ma ha reso definitivamente poco credibile la possibilità che Ankara svolga nel prossimo futuro un ruolo di mediazione tra Israele e Autorità Palestinese. Ad affossare definitivamente questa ipotesi è stata poi la decisione presa dalla Procura di Ankara di aprire un’indagine contro i vertici israeliani per "genocidio, torture e crimini contro l’umanità" commessi in occasione della recente operazione militare nella Striscia di Gaza. L’esacerbarsi della tensione tra Tel Aviv e Ankara rischia oltretutto di minare i rapporti tra la Turchia e gli Usa, in un momento particolarmente infelice, specie all’indomani delle aperture di Obama all’Iran. Per Washington la convergenza di vedute tra Erdogan e Peres era ormai divenuta un elemento portante della strategia statunitense in Medioriente, essendo sia la Turchia sia Israele due alleati storici degli Stati Uniti nella regione. Questo legame privilegiato ha a lungo garantito – nelle principali sedi internazionali – il sostegno degli Usa alla Turchia in merito all’annosa questione del riconoscimento del genocidio armeno. Dopo Davos alcuni analisti hanno previsto un’inversione di questa tendenza, sebbene nelle scorse settimane il neo-inquilino della Casa Bianca, Barack Obama, abbia preferito glissare sul tema, rinviando a una data da definire l’annunciato dibattito al Congresso sul riconoscimento del genocidio armeno. Questa è probabilmente la conferma di come le relazioni tra Stati Uniti e Turchia rappresentino ancora un tassello fondamentale dell’agenda di politica estera americana (Washington, in particolare, non ha smesso di confidare in un ruolo di mediazione di Ankara tra Siria e Israele).
Alla vigilia dell’attesissimo tour europeo di Obama – che si concluderà proprio ad Ankara il prossimo 7 aprile – occorre insomma comprendere se effettivamente la Turchia stia immaginando di poter avviare una strategia di politica estera più indipendente da due attori sino a ieri fondamentali per le sue scelte internazionali, quali l’Unione Europea e gli Stati Uniti. L’esito delle prossime amministrative in Turchia e l’entità del successo elettorale dell’AKP – in cui potrebbe giocare un ruolo determinante proprio il coup de théâtre di Davos, che pare aver risollevato le sorti di un leader in calo di consensi - potranno offrire importanti indicazioni a riguardo. L’impressione è che lo sfogo del 29 gennaio sia stata una mossa elettorale di cui Erdogan non abbia considerato tutte le possibili conseguenze.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
A European Communication Strategy on Turkey
chapter written by Nathalie Tocci and Donatella Cugliandro and published in the volume "Talking Turkey in Europe: towards a differentiated Communication Strategy", IAI Quaderni, English Series, n.13, 2008, pp.249-278, in http://www.iai.it/pdf/Quaderni/Quaderni_E_13.pdf
1. Existing Conceptualizations of a Communication Strategy
The importance of developing a Communication Strategy on Turkey was first recognized by the European Commission in the fall of 2004, when the opening of Turkey’s accession negotiations loomed on the horizon.1 In response, in April 2005 the Commissioner for Institutional Relations and Communication Strategy, Margot Wallstrom confidently declared that ‘enlargement [is] an easy thing to communicate […] a bit tricky, but still it [is] very concrete and it [is] something that could be done’.2 The issue of enlargement has indeed been “trickier” than anticipated, especially as far as Turkey is concerned. Before delving into the conclusions of our study, let us take a step back and assess how EU actors have conceptualized, crystallized and implemented such a Strategy, and what problems they have faced.
1.1 An EU Communication Strategy on the EU
Efforts to create a Communication Strategy were first directed to the broad question of the relationship between the EU and more specifically “Brussels” and the member states, and can be traced back almost a decade.In 2001, the European Commission published a Communication, whose aim was ‘to establish a new inter-institutional relationship, […] to provide information at grassroots level, […] to bring Europe closer to its citizens’.3 While not specifically aimed at elaborating a “strategy”, the Commission endeavoured to provide guidelines for a coordinated policy in the field of communication. A more detailed programme of action was announced in 2002, when the reasons to elaborate and implement a Communication Strategy were explicitly recognized. In particular, the Commission stressed the need to improve public perceptions of the Union through the implementation of an ‘information and communication policy’.4 The Strategy would aim at ‘polishing [the EU’s] image [and] developing the means of controlling [it]’.5
The approach was transparent: the objective of the Strategy was to present a new “face” for the Union, to improve its image; not to question its substance. This “window-dressing” approach has its merits. Some argue that ‘the EU’s soft power derives as much from style as from substance’.6 Moreover, “Brussels” does have an undeniable image problem – being viewed as dull, bureaucratic and elitist –, an image which does not do justice to its many virtues. Branding and re-branding the EU also helps contributing to the public perception of a single European face and voice. Aware of these pros, EU institutions have instinctively associated the need for “communication” with the creation and recreation of the Union’s “image”. As put by the Commission: ‘the acquisition of a new communication culture will depend on a coherent and methodical reconstruction of the “European Union’s image”.7 This approach was reproduced in successive documents, such as the 2005 Action Plan, the 2006 WhitePaper,8 as well as the 2005 Commission “Plan-D” for Democracy, Dialogue and Debate, aimed at responding to the French and Dutch rejections of the Constitutional Treaty. As a response to the European impasse, the Plan crystallizes the paradigm of communication interpreted as the reconstruction of image. The Plan aimed at generating public approval of the EU and of the Treaty by explaining the text (thus providing much-needed information on it) as well as by increasing its appeal by polishing its image (thus increasing its legitimacy): ‘Plan-D must seek to clarify, deepen and legitimize a new consensus on Europe’ (emphases added);9 its aim was not that of re-discussing the content of this consensus or the functioning of the EU as a whole.
Setting aside the merits and achievements of this approach, it evidently neglected a fundamental problem regarding both substance and strategy. The Commission’s window-dressing approach automatically implied that the EU’s faults were exclusively or at least primarily due to its image rather than its substance. This made the Commission an easy prey of civil society critiques that such a Communication Strategy was all about ‘selling Europe, [rather than] opening-up Europe’,10 as the Platform of European Social NGOs argued. This civil society forum stressed the fact that ‘communication cannot be addressed in an abstract way and always needs to be connected to content’.11 In other words, the three D’s (dialogue, debate and democracy) by definition ought to have implied a genuine openness to substantive change, achieved through dialogue and debate with civil society and the wider public.Yet the public struggled to see this. This is not to deny that a Communication Strategy must inevitably have a top-down element to it. In so far as effective and constructive communication hinges upon the delivery of “information”, EU-level actors in a first instance must provideinformation, in a re-branded and accessible manner, to the public.Yet if the aim is communication rather than “selling” a particular product or policy, this would be the beginning and not the end of the process. The difference between information delivery and communication lies precisely in the fact that once information is delivered and receives discernible reactions, those reactions are acknowledged, debated and followed-up by a genuine attempt to incorporate them in the construction of Europe. The absence of this second step in the process of communication has generated an internal inconsistency in the EU’s ensuing strategy. Precisely because the aim of a Communication Strategy is to bring the Union closer to its citizens, the latter’s perception of an EU which is not genuinely willing to question itself has hindered the Strategy’s objectives. It is difficult to see how the gap between Brussels and the European publics is to be bridged if the former openly states that its prime objective is that of polishing its image in order to “appear” rather than “become” more attractive to the latter.
1.2 An EU Communication Strategy on Enlargement
In view of worsening opinion poll figures, the question of enlargement was also acknowledged as an issue that required improved communication.12 To do so, the Commission proposed a joint EU-member state effort to develop a coherent communication policy, aimed at persuading Europeans of the need and desirability of enlargement. The Commission in 2004 focused on the implementation of an information and communication strategy, highlighting the role of national institutions in this process. It also stressed that the object of this Strategy was not only the 2004 enlargement, but also the ongoing enlargement process: the Communication Strategy ‘should also cover the ongoing negotiations with the other candidate countries,’ and not be restricted to the entry of the ten new member states.13
Reading in and in-between the lines of the Commission’s documents several points stand out. First and most importantly, the Communication Strategy on enlargement displays a striking “one-size-fits-all” approach. While recognizing member state (and candidate country) actors as indispensable part-ners in the process, the Commission does not address specific strategies to each country, assuming that views and arguments on enlargement are homogenous across the Union and beyond. Yet there is no single “European public debate” on enlargement, there are several, interlocking European debates, rooted in the overlapping yet different historical trajectories, interests and ideas within the European mosaic.
Second, and as in the case of the Communication Strategy on the EU, the Communication Strategy on enlargement is interpreted as a one-way process. The communication is intended to flow from the Union, through national institutions, to the public, rather than envisaging the reverse process of communication as well. It sets aside the need for a genuine “twoway communication” and associates communication with information-provision from the EU to the national level, albeit information presented in a more appealing manner to the European publics. This brings to the fore a central problem to which we return to below: a conflict of interests which arises between the aim of “managing enlargement” and that of “communicating enlargement”. If genuine communication entails a readiness to change in substance (i.e., questioning enlargement), then a contradiction arises in the Commission’s mandate to manage the accession process with existing candidate countries. Whereas genuine communication can be promoted directly by the Commission as far as potential candidates and other neighbours are concerned (e.g., Ukraine or Moldova), it cannot directly promote as easily a genuine Communication Strategy for existing candidate countries such as Turkey.
Finally, the Communication Strategy on enlargement is meant to inform the public in general rather than elite national stakeholders within the EU and in the candidate countries as target audiences in their own right. National actors are seen exclusively as transmitters in the implementation of the Commission’s Strategy rather than as target audiences. In the case of Turkey, while the Commission delegation in Ankara has identified the media and business amongst its elite and mid-level target groups of a Communication Strategy,14 tellingly, Turkish institutional actors are excluded from the list, being viewed only as transmitters to reach the public rather than target audiences as well.Yet public opinion is formed prima-rily through the views expressed by national stakeholders, including institutional ones, and thus much of the misinformation and misperceptions permeating public debate reflect the deficiencies embedded in the national messages delivered to citizens. In other words, national elite and midlevel actors are not simply the necessary filters, translating EU messages to the European publics in languages that resonate. Related to the first critique raised above, a two-way process of information-sharing is necessary, with national actors being the mediators, who communicate to the public and communicate back to the EU level the concerns, perceptions and interests of the public.Without this mediating role, the process of communication, which allows both sides to inform and be informed, risks being truncated, thus thwarting the goal of a Communication Strategy.
On closer inspection, the interplay and circularity in these critiques is essential for the purpose of our study.A Communication Strategy has so far been conceptualized and implemented as a one-way street, in which EU actors present “objective” information to the European publics in a more appealing, repackaged and rebranded manner. In order to do so, the role of national-level actors is critical, in translating EU messages in languages – literally and figuratively – that resonate with the people. This process of rebranding, through the aid of national mediators, certainly inserts an element of differentiation in the process. Yet differentiation is limited to the delivery of the message, its style and language, and not to the message itself, whose content remains undifferentiated across national and sectoral contexts. Closing the circle, differentiation does not go deeper precisely because communication is interpreted as a one-way street stemming from a single set of actors (and the Commission in particular) to the public. Yet the public disclosure of this approach has also sowed the seeds of its limited success, not only because it has been viewed as a quintessentially topdown window-dressing process, but also because it has failed to engage with the “real” debates – prejudiced or otherwise – rooted within European societies.
1.3 A Turkish Communication Strategy on EU-Turkey Relations
Turning to Turkey, here the most salient effort to report and comment upon is that undertaken by Turkish institutions to communicate their case for membership to the EU and to the Turkish public. In 2000, the government established its Secretariat General for EU Affairs in order to coordinate the efforts of several domestic institutions involved in the harmonization withEU laws and regulations. More recently, the Secretariat has developed a project called “EU-Turkey Communication Platform”, aimed at ensuring an interactive communication among all relevant stakeholders in both Turkey
and the EU. Others have followed suit. The “Avrupa Birligˇi Iletisim Grubu” (European Union Communication Group – ABIG) is a partnership of Turkish public and private organizations established to provide accurate information about Turkey’s progress towards EU accession.15 It should be noted however, that in the overall cooling-off climate in EU-Turkey relations since 2004 many of these projects have lost their momentum and no new public-private initiatives have been taken.16
These Turkish efforts are commendable in so far as they expressly target national stakeholders in Turkey, the EU and the candidate countries as well as public opinion writ large. This is particularly evident in the target audiences identified by the EU-Turkey Communication Platform. Indeed, on the Turkish side these include not only individuals, but also ministries and public institutions, the private sector, non-governmental organizations, universities and the mass media. The list continues on the EU side, including EU institutions, member states, candidate countries, embassies of member states and embassies of candidate countries.17 In terms of EU member states, particular attention is paid to the Belgian, French, German and British cases.18 In the case of ABIG instead, communication efforts are targeted specifically to decision-makers and the media. Its goal is that of informing these elite mediators in order for these actors to communicate effectively with the general public.
Yet this greater degree of differentiation in Turkey’s communication efforts opens up, not only in the specific case of Turkey, but also on a broader conceptual level, a problem of coordination, vision and strategy. Some have pointed out that a comprehensive strategy in Turkey has not come to the fore yet largely because of problems of coordination. At present, there are approximately 33 institutions which provide information, from and about Turkey, ‘however, there is almost no coordination, no strategic outlook andno resources to reach out to foreign audiences on key Turkish foreign policy issues’.19 Hence ‘[w]hat is needed is a new agency with a chief communicator who coordinates Turkey’s communication with European and foreign audiences’ claims Suat Kinikliogˇlu.20 Achieving a strategy that is both differentiated as well as coherent and coordinated is no small feat. While full coordination in a strict sense may be difficult to come by, a common strategic outlook and a unifying idea appears critical in providing overall coherence to the differentiated communication efforts of different actors to different audiences. Another problem is the inconsistency of pursuing concomitantly the goal of effective communication while also favouring a particular outcome regarding the object of such communication. This has been the main problem bedeviling Turkish efforts in communicating with EU-sceptics in Turkey and Turkey-sceptics in the EU. Inevitably, the aim underpinning Turkey’s efforts to elaborate a Communication Strategy is to promote its accession course. Turkish actors have not shied away from stating this reality. The aim of a Communication Strategy is deliberately not “neutral”, but aimed at ‘reach[ing] a “conscious acceptance” by the majority of the Turkish public for Turkish membership to the EU.’21 To this we may add the goal of selling Turkey’s case to the EU, by highlighting the positive and downplaying the negative aspects of Turkey’s accession.22 Yet this inevitably creates a perception of bias within the targeted audiences, a perceived bias which dilutes the objective strength of the arguments raised regarding both the pros and the cons of Turkey’s membership.
In the case of Turkey of course, there is no way of effectively by-passing this problem, and perhaps recognizing it upfront is the best way forward. Yet when it comes to an EU Communication Strategy on Turkey it is of fundamental importance that this “conflict of interests” is hedged against. It is in this spirit that we argue that a Communication Strategy on Turkey ought not to simply and directly promote Turkey’s EU accession, but rather instill a more open, informed and empathic debate on the question, a goal, whichif achieved, cannot but support Turkey’s EU bid.
The main conclusions from this overview can be summarized as follows:
- The need for a Communication Strategy to be a two-way street and have in-built within it the readiness to change, in substance and not only in style. This also entails the need for a Communication Strategy to have “communication” as its prime object and purpose if it is to be viewed as genuine and credible by its recipients, thus avoiding to push for a particular
policy position;
- The need for a Communication Strategy to be differentiated and view national-level stakeholders as targets and not only transmitters of an EU message. This relates to the need for a Communication Strategy to include a wide variety of actors, differentiating its messages, its audiences and its messengers;
- The need for a Communication Strategy to retain overall vision, coordination and purpose despite its internal differentiation and dynamism.
2. Building an EU Communication Strategy on Turkey
Having distilled what we mean – and what we don’t mean – by a Communication Strategy let us apply these lessons to the case of an EU Communication Strategy on Turkey.
2.1 An Informed Two-Way Communication
The objective of an EU Communication Strategy on Turkey, thus, ought to have “communication” as its object and purpose. It would not use communication as a means to promote Turkey’s EU accession, i.e., as a public relations campaign for Turkey. While initiatives such as those carried out by Turkey or by member states such as the UK (e.g., through its UK-Turkey Strategic Partnership as discussed by Whitman) are of critical importance, they do not share the interpretation of a Communication Strategy endorsed here. Only if the genuine aim is that of promoting communication per se would a Communication Strategy avoid the temptation of persuading EU stakeholders and publics of the desirability of Turkey’s EU membership and rather engage in an authentic debate over the pros and cons of accession. Such communication would have two principal functions. On the one hand, it would engage in a debate on the “real” issues on the minds of stakeholders
and publics, including the thorniest questions surrounding Turkey’s accession. On the other hand, it would provide information and attempt toinstil a more constructive and informed debate on these questions. These two interrelated functions of a Communication Strategy would promote a healthier enlargement process to Turkey, which would hedge against the spoiling potential of misperceptions, avoiding ugly surprises either during the accession process or at its conclusion. It is in this, indirect, manner that a Communication Strategy would support Turkey’s European prospects.
Listening and responding to public concerns
Turning to the first function, a Communication Strategy would listen to and tackle head-on the concerns of stakeholders and publics, and thus engage in a genuine two-way communication with them. As pointed out by Lippert, there is little empirical information on why exactly German citizens hold negative attitudes towards Turkey’s accession process. The same can be said of other member states as well. If the aim is to influence public opinion and respond to it through a Communication Strategy, then in a first instance more information on what the public thinks is needed. This information can be collected through polling or compiled by establishing forums for domestic dialogue with representatives of civil society. An interesting
example of this is the “German Islam Conference” (DIK) established by the Ministry of the Interior in 2006. The DIK does not tackle directly EU-Turkey relations, but deals with relations between the German state and its Muslim citizens. It is important in highlighting the method of communication, which is indeed a two-way dialogue, beginning with an appreciation and understanding of the concerns of all parties.
Engaging in genuine dialogue would also entail avoiding the temptation of
not dealing with the hottest issues surrounding the Turkey question. Some may think that it is wiser to postpone public debate on potentially explosive topics altogether or up until when Turkey’s accession comes closer on the horizon. All authors confirm that to date, the thorniest issues surrounding the Turkey question have rested in the identity-religion-migration nexus. Especially in cases such as Italy, Poland or the UK, where the debate on Turkey has been rather low-key because it has not been associated (yet) with this nexus, the temptation may be that of avoiding the subject. Indeed if the aim is that of directly promoting Turkey’s accession process, then the argument “if it ain’t broken don’t fix it” holds sway. This is particularly true from a Commission perspective, whose mandate is that of proceeding with the accession process, rather than questioning its desirability. Indeed from a Commission point of view (and indeed from Turkey’s too), the argument isthat Turkey should have been “talked about” prior to 1999 when it was accorded candidate status. Since then, as put by Esen and Bölükbas¸ı, the debate about Turkey ought to be about “when and how” and not about “whether” it should enter the EU. As far as the Commission is concerned, its mandate to negotiate accession is in fact grounded precisely on the understanding that Turkey was talked about and a consensus emerged from that talk in 1999. This relates back to the conflict of interests within the Commission between “communicating enlargement” and “managing enlargement” highlighted above.We return to this contradiction and a possible way out of it below.
While these authors sympathize with this position, from the perspective of promoting genuine communication, the picture changes. True, Turkey ought to have been talked about openly prior to the recognition of its candidacy in 1999. But it was not. And when public debate is ignited, as it was in France or Austria, often for unrelated domestic political reasons, it tends to take radical and unexpected turns. The most evident case in point is that
of Austria, where prior to 2004, Turkey was not debated at all, and certainly not in terms of identity, religion and migration. Yet when the debate was sparked in the context of domestic political competition – i.e., the rise of the FPÖ and the need for the two people’s parties to react – prejudices imbued in xenophobic rhetoric spread like wildfire. Had those issues been discussed beforehand in a less populist and less polarized political climate we may have expected a different outcome. As argued by Günay, Austria today presents a new opportunity. After several years of populist Turkey talk, the decision to hold a referendum on Turkey’s accession has calmed spirits in the country.A similar argument is put forth by Le Gloannec in the
French context. Yet rather than using this period of calm to revert back to the former “don’t talk Turkey” approach, this opportunity could be used to proactively instil a more cool-headed and informed debate about Turkey. This re-energized debate however would only steal the thunder of populist, prejudiced or uninformed “Turkey talk” if it responded to not shied away from the preoccupations bedevilling Austrian and French societies. These arguments would not avoid dealing with “real” public concerns over immigration, social welfare, the pace of enlargement and the future of the European political project. They would not replicate the silencing approach adopted during the eastern enlargements, which then boomeranged on public views regarding the ongoing process of enlargement to the Western Balkans, Turkey and beyond.
Providing information
This leads to the second function of genuine communication, i.e., that of injecting informed facts and arguments into the public debates.23 Without attempting to simply persuade the publics of the advantages of Turkey’s accession, greater information is likely to benefit Turkey’s EU bid. The lesson from the UK in particular seems to be that the greater the knowledge of and direct engagement with Turkey, especially amongst elite stakeholders, and the less susceptible the environment to hostile and prejudiced views about Turkey’s accession. Likewise, in Germany, Lippert suggests that there is a positive correlation between education and pro-Turkish attitudes. While the function of information-provision has an inevitable top-down element, reminiscent of the Commission’s “Plan D” on the Constitutional Treaty, information-delivery in the context of a two-way communication would respond to rather than speak on top of the concerns of the public. In other words, the function of information-provision would be intrinsically tied to the function of listening to and debating about the questions concerning societies, including the most sensitive subjects.
The chapters in this volume mention several areas in which information provision is of the essence. In chapters on Austria, Denmark, France, Greece and Poland, the emphasis is placed on the need to provide more and better information in the realms of history and culture, through the revision of history books, but also through greater efforts in the realms of art and entertainment. Through these different mediums, the aim would be that of adding nuance to the monolithic “Battle of Vienna syndrome”, in which the Turks are represented as the unknown “other”,24 by bringing to the forefront “Marcus Aurelius’ foot”, that is the many ways in which Turks have been part and parcel of Europe’s complex and evolving history, art and culture. This would include not only bringing to the fore elements of Turkish tradition but also of Turkish modernity in the realms of music, art and entertainment.
In the UK and Italy, authors focus on migration and integration. These are questions that have not “short-circuited” yet in both countries, as well as in Poland, but may do so in future for different reasons, including“Christian public opinion” in Italy and Poland, and the link between migration and enlargement in the minds of the British public. Hence, the need to provide accurate information on existing migration flows to and from Turkey, projections on whether and how there may be labour migratory consequences from Turkey’s accession, and on what the social, political and economic implications of these would be. Furthermore, information would also be provided and discussed as regards to the trends of integration of existing Turkish communities living in these countries. This would be done to pre-empt the emergence of a dominant prejudiced narrative on migration from Turkey in the national medias and by political figures at some point in future.
A third and final argument, which may be worth exploring, in order to hedge against its possible manipulations in future, is the link between the financial crisis and Turkey’s membership prospects. The crisis and its implications on the European economy and political systems cannot be foreseen. In turn, its impact on the enlargement project in general, and Turkey’s accession in particular, cannot be anticipated. Yet given the inevitably far-reaching implications of the crisis, we may expect a link being drawn in public
debates between the crisis and Turkey’s accession process. It may thus be worth preparing such public debates by instilling within the EU information about Turkey’s position, reactions and adjustments to the crisis.
A cost-benefit approach to communication
Having listened to public concerns and the reasons underpinning those concerns through national polling and civil society dialogue, and having provided information there where it is missing or one-sided, a Communication Strategy would adopt a cost-benefit approach to the question of Turkey’s accession. It is above all in this respect that a Communication Strategy must avoid downplaying the costs while overstating the benefits of Turkey’s membership. For it to be credible, a Communication Strategy must not, and must not be seen, as promoting Turkey’s accession course. It is here again that the delicate balancing act of the Commission as manager of Turkey’s accession process and communicator of Turkey’s accession process comes to the fore. In 2004 the Commission published a cost-benefit analysis of Turkey’s future membership.25 The approach was laudable in many respects, andremains the most serious and systematic attempt to assess the possible impacts of Turkey’s accession to date. However, this “one-size-fits-all” impact study failed to strike many chords in European public debates. A single cost-benefit balance-sheet has the advantage of reaching clear “objective” answers or reasoned hypotheses to complex questions. Yet it cannot escape the critique that providing an authoritative balance-sheet of the state of affairs in an indefinite future on the relationship between two movi and multifaceted objects – the EU and Turkey – is next to impossible.26 Furthermore, a single impact study necessarily fails to engage with the different and specific preoccupations across national, regional and sectoral domains within the EU and Turkey.
A Communication Strategy would not have the ambition of presenting an “impact study”. It would however engage with the pro and con arguments within different geographical and sectoral arenas in the EU and Turkey in order to promote a more informed and constructive debate on the different dimensions of EU-Turkey relations. It would respond to the different
arguments and concerns of different stakeholders and publics. This would imply first responding to the specific questions viewed as important by different European stakeholders. Hence, as suggested by Alessandri and Canan, when debating with trade unions, a main subject of debate would be the costs and benefits of Turkey’s accession regarding EU and Turkish labour rights. Second, cost-benefit arguments would be framed in a manner that resonates, i.e., they would be aware of and respond to the particular interests and worldviews of specific stakeholders. Hence, when speaking to a French federalist, as opposed to a British eurosceptic, it would be nonsensical to present as a benefit the hypothesis that Turkey’s accession would dampen the European political project. Doing so would either fall on deaf ears or consolidate rather than question existing assumptions regarding EUTurkey relations within specific groups.
2.2 A Differentiated and Dynamic Strategy
The discussion above opens the way to a second prerequisite of an EU Communication Strategy on Turkey: the need for it to be differentiated and dynamic. But what do we mean by this? What has emerged over the courseof this two-year project is that there is no EU debate on Turkey. The debates vary widely across as well as within member states, adding to this complex EU reality the debate in Turkey itself as well as within the Brussels-based policy community. These different debates are the reflection of different interests and ideas, which are either directly or indirectly related to the EU-Turkey question. These debates also oscillate over time, whereby particular issues are sparked and others diffused in public debates at different points in time, again as the result of the changing configurations of domestic, regional and international interests and ideas. In other words, an effective Communication Strategy cannot be a “one-size-fits-all” EUwide strategy, but must be based on a careful and constantly monitored selection of its content, timing and interlocutors. It must target the right audience, at the right time, with the right message delivered by the right messenger.
As this book has attempted to do, a differentiated and dynamic Communication Strategy must begin with an analysis of the different stakeholders within member states, the EU and Turkey. This analysis would seek to uncover who these actors are, what their position is, what the interests and ideas underlying such positions are, and how these intersect with the Turkey question. Having undertaken such analysis here, let us turn to examine what a differentiated and dynamic Communication Strategy might look like.
A differentiated message
The first and most evident point to make, linking back to a Communication Strategy which resonates with the interests and concerns of its audiences, is that the message delivered by such a Strategy must respond to the existing debate within a specified group. Hence, there is little point in presenting the geostrategic costs and benefits of Turkey’s accession when the existing debate is focused on the effect of Turkey’s accession on EU institutions, its budget or its agricultural policy. A subtler variant of this point would be that even the same topic may be treated in a variety of ways depending on who the specific interlocutor is. Let us take the question of identity-religion to highlight this point, an aspect which across the EU represents the single most important source of resistance to Turkey’s accession.
Here we can unpack a set of different arguments whose appropriateness would depend on the specific audience to whom the message is delivered and discussed. A first argument is that of Turkey having a (positive) impact on a multicultural EU, which makes of multiculturalism, alongside toler-ance and coexistence, a principal defining feature of its identity. This is an argument that would resonate well with European socialist, liberal and leftwing political groups, with liberal/left-leaning intellectuals and civil society organizations, and with Diaspora community associations. It would strike the wrong chords instead with right-wing and ethnocentrist political, media and civil society groups, or with those who identify the EU with its Christian-Judaic roots in member states such as Italy and Poland.
Second, Turkey can and has been presented as a bridge to the Middle East and a model of Muslim democracy, thus strengthening the EU’s foreign policy potential. This is an argument that tends to resonate well with the foreign policy community across the EU, and has been often cited by the foreign and defence communities in member states such as Italy and the UK, as well as sceptical member states such as France and Germany. As argued by Lippert, this argument is convincing to foreign policy realists who aspire at strengthening the relative “power” of the West vis-à-vis the Muslim world, as well as to liberal internationalists who view the EU as a civilian post-national power that projects its norms beyond its borders. Yet not all foreign policy experts would value highly this line of reasoning. As argued by Balcer, in Poland foreign policy attention turns east: to Russia, Eastern Europe and the Caucasus. Polish foreign policy experts have less of an interest
in building a bridge to the Middle East and the Muslim world and are more concerned with Turkey’s relations with Russia and the Caucasus, as well as the links drawn between Turkey’s accession process and Ukraine’s EU perspective. In the case of Greece also, this line of reasoning holds little sway amongst foreign policy realists, who remain anchored to the idea that Turkey ought to be contained and weakened through all possible means. As argued by Jung, beyond foreign policy this argument would not strike any chords with stakeholders across member states who view Islam and liberal democracy as incompatible, and would thus use the slightest glitch in Turkey’s human rights record to affirm their thesis. In other words, even if we were to see an entirely reformed Turkey with glittering human rights standards projecting peace and stability to its neighbourhood, any minimal incident in Turkey would be flagged as “proof” of the unbridgeable cultural gap separating “Muslim Turkey” from “Christian Europe”.
Third, Turkey can be represented as one of the cradles of Christian civilization while being a predominantly Muslim country. Polish and Italian “Christian public opinion”, the Roman Catholic Church, Law & Justice in Poland as well as Catholic networks, social clubs and student fraternities inAustria would abhor arguments that present Turkey as an asset to a multicultural Europe. Yet they may be more sensitive to arguments regarding Turkey’s role in the history of Christianity. Hence the importance of Pope Benedict XVI’s apostolic visit to Turkey in November 2006 cited by several authors in this volume.
Finally, Turkey can feature in European debates on secularism. Notwithstanding its peculiar interpretation of secularism, certainly distinct from the French understanding of laïcité as discussed by Le Gloannec,Turkey is a secular state in so far as it is a country where citizens can be either religious practicing or not, and both are accepted by the state and society. This is an argument that may appeal to European secularists, as well as right-ofcentre and conservative groups with little sympathy for “Islam”. By contrast, other conservative parties in Europe, and in particular Christian democratic parties in Italy, Austria and Germany may find more appealing arguments about the AKP as a “Muslim democratic” party, comparable to their own parties, which are liberal in economic outlook but socially conservative.
A differentiated audience
The messages delivered and debated by a Communication Strategy would focus on two sets of actors: elite and mid-level stakeholders on the one hand and public opinion on the other. However, whereas in the case of stakeholders a Communication Strategy would foresee a genuine two-way debate, in the case of “public opinion” the Strategy would envisage an indirect form of communication through the mediation of national stakeholders. National stakeholders would represent the views of the wider public to the EU level and communicate back to the public the messages elaborated in the context of the Communication Strategy. In other words, a Communication Strategy would target directly national stakeholders and
through them reach the wider public.
Across all member states we note that elite stakeholders tend to hold more open views regarding the Turkey question than “public opinion”. On the one hand, this would facilitate the task of a Communication Strategy. On the other hand, this finding shadows the reality that public opinion is formed through the messages delivered by elite stakeholders, which in turn often hide behind public opinion when adopting defensive positions in a classic Putnamite “two-level game”. In other words, to reach-out to public opinion it is essential that debate is undertaken with national stakeholders, who would mediate more nuanced messages to the publics.
The stakeholder audiences across member states include several actors. First we find state institutions and the civil service. These actors tend to have greater influence in member states in which Turkey is a low-level political issue, such as in Poland or the UK, as well as in countries where there is a relatively strong bi-partisan support for Turkey’s EU accession, such as the UK or Italy. These actors also tend to hold rather positive views on Turkey’s accession in so far as they are driven above all by foreign policy considerations, making them more open to the positive geopolitical arguments about Turkey’s accession. This is because actors within state institutions dealing with Turkey are normally located in foreign ministries or in foreign affairs committees in parliaments, as discussed in chapters on Poland and the UK in particular. Furthermore, civil services are sensitive to pacta sunt servanda arguments, whereby Turkey, having been granted candidacy in 1999, ought to proceed with the accession process on the exclusive basis of its compliance with EU conditions, as argued by Turkish stakeholders as well.
Second we find political parties. This is the domain where we report the largest degree of variance across member states. It is these differences, rooted in the domestic politics and trajectories of each member state, which above all else explain the absence of a single European debate on Turkey. The area of similarity and overlap across member states lies in the extremes. Far-right parties tend to oppose resolutely Turkey’s membership on the grounds of religion and culture, being backed by some segments within strongly Catholic parties. Hence, the similar rhetoric permeating the Lega Nord in Italy, FPÖ in Austria, the Dansk Folkeparti in Denmark, the Mouvement pour la France and LAOS in Greece, as well as some elements within Law & Justice in Poland, the CDU/CSU in Germany or the Union of Christian Democrats in Italy. Parties on the far-left instead often tend to mildly oppose Turkey’s accession while being open to change. They reject Turkey’s membership in view of its human rights record, its treatment of the Kurds, its reluctance to recognize the Armenian genocide and its deregulated labour markets. However, they would be ready to accept Turkey’s accession if the country were to fully reform and are enthusiastic of the assets Turkey would bring to a multicultural Europe. Following this line of thinking we find Rifondazione Comunista in Italy, Socialistisk Folkeparti in Denmark as well as the Greens in Austria. When it comes to the mass centre- left and centre-right parties in the EU, differences prevail instead. In some member states we find strong bipartisan support in favour of Turkey’s accession (Italy, UK, Greece), in others cautious or weak bipartisan support(Denmark and Poland), in others strong bipartisan rejection of Turkey’s EU bid (Austria and France), while in other still stark divisions both within and between parties (Germany).
Third, we find business, which across all member states represents the single most ardent, committed and undivided supporter of Turkey’s EU cause. While claims that Turkey is “already in Europe” may give rise to doubts regarding the degree to which business is truly interested in Turkey’s membership, most confirm the importance attributed to Turkey’s reform process, which they view as being intrinsically tied to the anchor of membership. In other words, while EU business stakeholders consider Turkey to be already “in Europe”, as confirmed by their trade and investment decisions, their expectation as well as their desire is that Turkey becomes a full EU member state. Interestingly, this is largely true also of the most sceptical member states: France and Austria. This said, business has been a relatively silent stakeholder in the debate, having sway on government positions, but not exposing itself in public debate.With few and far away exceptions such as the the report published by Dansk Industri in Denmark, the activities of TÜSIAD in Germany, or the Saison de la Turquie financed by French business, the strong and committed support of business stakeholders has not translated into a vocal EU-wide economic lobby in support of Turkey’s cause.
Fourth, we find trade unions and economic interest groups. Here the story to be told is fairly consistent across member states, and most notably in Germany, Italy and France. While far from being vocal, trade unions tend to take an interest in Turkey and are open to the prospect of Turkey’s accession – or at the very least they are certainly not against Turkey’s EU bid for reasons related to religion and culture. However, trade unions are concerned with the state of labour rights in Turkey and the deregulation of the Turkish labour market, which, they fear, could either spill-into the EU or may generate unfair competitive pressures on member state workers. This is particularly true of some sectors, such as the agricultural one in member states such as Italy or the FNSEA in France.
Fifth, we find the media. Here again the story to be told is fairly similar across the EU. The media, on the whole tends to paint a rather negative image of Turkey, driven above all by its commercial logic whereby stereotypes, sensationalism and alarmism “sell”. This is certainly true of the tabloid press in cases like Poland and the UK, television in Germany, but also, to a lower degree, of the principal national dailies across member states, with the possi-ble exceptions of Germany or the UK.27 Cross-cutting tendencies in member state medias include “culturalizing” political issues and reporting about Turkey’s EU accession in the context of Islam, focusing on tragic incidents or crises, and linking these back to the depiction of Turkey as the unknown “other” and its inability to conform to “European standards of civilization”.
Sixth, we find the Churches. Here again, the position of the churches is fairly consistent across member states. As far as the Catholic Church is concerned, the message of the Vatican has been cautious, yet some Catholic personalities have expressed a resolutely negative stance on the Turkey question. Reasons include broad-brush arguments related to Europe’s “Christian identity”, as well as more subtle arguments related to the rights of Christians in Turkey. Protestant churches in Germany and France in particular have discussed Turkey both in the context of religious freedoms as well as in terms of secularism and its meaning in Europe. This fairly homogenous message of churches across member states must however be mapped against the different degrees of influence that the churches yield within them. On one end of the spectrum we find Italy and Poland, where the views of the Vatican hold considerable sway on public opinion. On the other end, we find the UK, Denmark and interestingly, Greece, where the Church either has been conditionally favourable to Turkey’s accession (Greece) or has little sway over public opinion (UK and Denmark). In the middle we find Austria, France and Germany, where both Catholic and Protestant churches have spoken on the Turkey question but have influence on specific sectors of society rather than on public opinion writ large.
Finally, we find Diaspora communities. Here again the story is fairly consistent, with Turkish Diaspora communities being viewed as “silent stakeholders”. This is either because of their small numbers (Poland, Italy), because they are weakly organized (Austria, France, Denmark), because they are relatively well-integrated and thus “disappear” in the public space (Italy), or because the political system reduces the prospects for community groups to make an impact through electoral politics (UK). Only in Germany, in view of the sheer size of the Turkish community, the EU-Turkey cause is promoted by well-known personalities of Turkish origin and associations (often organized as “Muslim” rather than specifically Turkish organizations). This notwith-standing, in member states such as France, Denmark, Germany and Austria, the real and perceived non-integration of these “silent stakeholders” becomes a prime source of argumentation against Turkey’s EU bid by other vocal stakeholders. This relates to and contrasts with another Diaspora community: the French of Armenian origin. While not being one monolithic community, the level of integration and organization of the French Armenians has allowed them to occupy much of the space left vacant by a poor, irresponsible and unresponsive leadership regarding the EU-Turkey question.
Differentiate the messenger
A differentiated Communication Strategy ought to have at its core a differentiated message, a differentiated audience, but also, and less obviously, a differentiated messenger. The same message if delivered by one stakeholder as opposed to another can have a very different effect. To take one evident example, it may well be counterproductive for a British conservative, perceived as auguring the dilution of the European political project, to argue the merits of Turkey’s accession to a French or a German federalist. It may be far more appropriate for Italian diplomacy or political parties to argue Turkey’s case to their French or German counterparts, in so far as Italy is viewed as a more committed Europeanist member state.
Exploring this question further, three actors have punched beneath their weight in their communications on Turkey. First and most evidently is the case of business, which while being an ardent, committed and virtually undivided supporter of Turkey’s EU accession across the EU spectrum, has been rather silent in public debate. This silence, particularly in member states such as Austria or France, may be linked to the belief of there is little point in publicly swimming against the tide of public opinion in a situation in which “business as usual” proceeds in economic relations with Turkey. Yet business stakeholders, while ill-equipped to capture and contribute to the “ideational” arguments regarding EU-Turkey relations (e.g., identity, religion, etc), can contribute to highlighting the gains, as well as the challenges to both national and EU economies stemming from Turkey’s entry. Particularly if these arguments are articulated more vocally by business actors alongside trade unions and professional associations, some of the space occupied by the alarmist economic messages given by some political figures may be rebalanced in public debate.
Second and displaying the most urgent need of attention is the media.Wehave already discussed how the media, across member states, bears a major responsibility in (mis)representing Turkey to EU publics. At the same time it is recognized by all as a, if not the, key messenger with the power to mould European debates on Turkey. The question becomes how to ensure that the message delivered by the media becomes more nuanced and coolheaded, focusing not only on moments of political crisis or covering Turkey in the context of Islam, but also devoting space and attention to other issues surrounding the EU-Turkey debate such as culture, art, history, as well as Turkey’s complex process of political, social and economic transformation. In all member states, journalists are identified as key targets of information campaigns, highlighting the need to establish more organic links between academia and the media regarding the Turkey question, as well as between journalists and media holdings in Turkey and in EU member states. A key example in this respect are the joint Greek-Turkish media initiatives such as the Greek-Turkish Journalists’ Forum and the synergies explored by the Dog˘an Holding in Turkey and Kathimerini in Greece, explored in the chapter by Ifantis and Fotiou.
Finally, three chapters in this volume have examined the multifaceted role of the single most important external stakeholder in European debates on Turkey: the United States. All concur that the US has played a decisive role at key points in time in EU-Turkey relations (e.g., in conjunction with the European Council meetings taking major decisions on Turkey between 1999 and 2004). All agree that this influence has declined in recent years, primarily because Turkey has become an increasingly “internal” EU matter. Yet what emerges from the chapters by Barkey, Lesser and Ojanen is also that American influence has at times punched beneath its weight, while at other times it has misfired. The US appears not to have made the most of its potential influence primarily because it has pressed for Turkey’s cause by relying upon geostrategic and geoeconomic considerations, which in turn hold sway primarily in those member states which are already “converted” to Turkey’s cause (e.g., the UK, Italy or Poland). A possible exception here is Germany, where at least some stakeholders appear to be increasingly sensitive to geopolitical arguments. Furthermore, in some respects, US policies have, unintentionally, backfired in the EU, by pushing Turkey increasingly into the Middle East either in concrete (e.g., through the war in Iraq) or discursive terms (by talking about Turkey within the paradigm of the “clash of civilizations”).
Either way, the underlying line emerging from these chapters is that beyondgeopolitics, US messengers could target more effectively other EU stakeholders. These include the European human rights communities, often concentrated on the liberal and left ends of the political spectrum, which are at times sceptical of Turkey while open to change their views.Washington could target these stakeholders not only directly by engaging in debate with them, but also and above all by strengthening its messages to Turkey regardin its reforms and domestic politics. It is above all in this way that the remaining concerns about Turkey representing an “American Trojan horse” in Europe, often voiced by liberal and left quarters in Europe, would diffuse or disappear.
2.3 Retaining Overall Vision
This project has argued and these chapters confirmed that a “European Communication Strategy on Turkey” ought to be differentiated and dynamic in order to be effective. It must be differentiated in terms of its messengers, its messages as well as its target audiences, departing from “one-sizefits-all” approaches to communication. The Strategy must be finely tuned
in order to address the multiplicity of discourses and actors within each and every member state. The Strategy must also be dynamic, by carefully selecting its moments of intervention and promptly reacting when public debates inflame and veer in dangerous directions. Moreover, an effective and influential Communication Strategy must not blindly promote Turkey’s accession course, but rather engage, genuinely, with the interests, beliefs and arguments dominating European public debates. A Communication Strategy must engage in a genuine two-way conversation with different European stakeholders and constituencies in the EU-Turkey question.
Yet, we are left with two dilemmas. First, if a Strategy is to be differentiated with a plethora of messages, audiences and messengers, how can it retain overall coherence? Coherence and coordination call for a Strategist pulling the strings of communication, but wouldn’t a single Strategist undermine the efforts of achieving differentiation? Second, if a Strategy is to avoid simply pushing for Turkey’s EU cause, who is to carry it out? Both candidate Turkey and the Commission mandated to negotiate Turkey’s membership have an underlying conflict of interests, wishing to proceed with accession without jeopardizing it with communications that may undermine the project of enlargement. Even if the underlying premise of a Communication Strategy and indeed of this project is that a healthierprocess of communication would indirectly support Turkey’s EU bid, what is clear is that genuine communication would go right to the heart of the overall desirability of Turkey’s membership, a question which both Turkey and the Commission would find difficult to deal with in an open-minded manner. Yet who then could act as the Strategizer who would formulate, coordinate, implement and constantly revise this Communication Strategy? These two dilemmas are closely intertwined and the way out rests precisely in their interlinkage. There is no actor other than the Commission who could provide the necessary coordination and strategic vision underpinning an EU Communication Strategy on Turkey. This does not entail that the Commission must be on the frontline of such a Strategy, elaborating the messages and delivering these to different audiences. Indeed its vested interests in Turkey’s accession course is such that it cannot be at the forefront of such communications. The Commission would rather select and promote fora for dialogue between specific messengers and target audiences, based upon its understanding of the different debates that resonate within different national and sectoral contexts. In other words, the Commission would initiate and coordinate the communications between different European stakeholders, providing coherence and vision in the overall architecture of the Strategy and not in the substantive messages delivered within it. The Commission would also listen to these differentiated debates, enriching its own substantive communications to select stakeholders and audiences. Its Communication Strategy would thus begin with an appreciation of the stakeholders, arguments and audiences involved in public debates; it would proceed with coordinating and promoting communications between these actors, and it would conclude by revising its own substantive communications on the grounds of the mediated messages it has heard. Hence the dynamism as well as the differentiation in the Strategy.
A supporting idea regarding the overall architecture of a Communication Strategy and the Commission’s own substantive messages would be that of seeking an overall “big idea” underpinning and weaving a strong yet subtle thread across the many messages communicated to and from the Strategy. This idea would have the same strength and appeal as the “transition from dictatorship” in the case of the southern enlargements, “economic development” in the case of the northern enlargements, or the “reunification of Europe” in the case of the eastern enlargements.
Such a single and powerful idea in the case of Turkey’s accession seemshard. Rather than a single idea related to the content of communication, perhaps a more plausible unifying idea may be found in the realm of procedure. What emerges starkly from this project and the chapters of this book is that arguments within the EU about Turkey’s accession ought to focus less on why the EU “owes” Turkey membership, why membership would benefit Turkey, as well as why Turkey would benefit the EU in strictly utilitarian terms (e.g., arguments related to economy or geostrategy). It would rather focus more on what Turkey would contribute to Europe in political, cultural and ideational terms, on how Turkey would enrich the European political project, contribute to the process of European construction as well as strengthen the cross-fertilizations in the European cultural mosaic.
This alternative reading of a cost-benefit approach puts a major onus on Turkey itself. Beyond strategizing about communication, what speaks most eloquently of all to EU stakeholders is what actually happens in Turkey itself: its reform process, its political, economic, social and cultural dynamics, as well as its role in the wider world. It is here we find a final dilemma, accurately examined by Esen and Bölükbas¸ı in their contribution. The multifarious yet often negative European debates on Turkey have not gone unnoticed by the multitude of Turkish stakeholders in the EU-Turkey debate. And it is here that the often negative communication stemming from the EU has interlocked with at times passive, at other times defensive, and at other times reactionary or adversarial communications in Turkey itself on the EU question. Hence the slowing down of the reform process. Hence the disillusioned Turkish public opinion. Breaking out of this vicious circle is no small feat. Both sides point the finger to each other: EU stakeholders, including the most committed to the Turkey cause, call for a resumption of Turkey’s reform process. Turkish stakeholders, including the most committed to the EU project, call for fairer treatment of Turkey in the EU. Reality, inevitably, goes both ways. It is only through greater EU efforts in Talking Turkey and dealing with Turkey’s accession process in a more constructive manner, alongside efforts of Turkish stakeholders to swim against the tide and resume the reform process, that renewed virtuous circles can be set in motion in the practical and discursive domains of EUTurkey relations.
Notes
1 See Commission of the European Communities (2004) 2004 Regular Report on Turkey’s progress towards accession, SEC(2004) 1201, Brussels.
2 Interview: Commissioner Wallström on the EU’s communication strategy, 6 April 2005; http://www.euractiv.com/engeneral/interview-commissioner-wallstrom-eu-communicationstrategy/article-137597.
3 Commission of the EC (2001) Communication from the Commission to the Council, European Parliament, Economic and Social Committee, the Committee of the Regions on a new framework for co-operation on activities concerning the information and communication policy of the European Union, COM(2001)354, Brussels.
4 Commission of the EC (2002) Communication from the Commission to the Council, European Parliament, Economic and Social Committee, the Committee of the Regions on a new framework for co-operation on an information and communication strategy for the European Union, COM(2002) 350 final/2, Brussels.
5 Ibid.
6 Van Ham, P. (2005) ‘Opinion Piece Branding European Power’, Place Branding, Vol. 1, p.124; Henry Stewart Publications,http//www.clingendael.nl/publications/2005/20050400_paper_vanham.pdf.
7 Commission of the EC (2002) op. cit. [our italics].
8 See Commission of the EC (2005) Action Plan to Improve Communicating Europe by the Commission, SEC(2005) 985 final, http://ec.europa.eu/dgs/communication/pdf/communication_com_en.pdf; and Commission of the EC (2006) White Paper on a European Communication Policy, COM(2006) 35 final, Brussels, http://eurlex.europa.eu/LexUriServ/LexUriServ.do?uri=COM:2006:0035:FIN:EN:PDF.
9 Commission of the EC (2005) The Commission’s contribution to the period of reflection and beyond: Plan-D for Democracy, Dialogue and Debate, COM(2005) 494 final, Brussels.
10 Platform of European Social NGOs (2006) Communicating: Selling Europe or Opening Europe?, October 5,
http://cms.horus.be/files/99907/MediaArchive/Policies/Participatory_democracy/ENResponse%20White%20Paper%20on%20Communication.pdf.
11 Ibid.
12 Commission of the EC (2002) op. cit.
13 Commission of the EC (2004) Communication from the Commission to the Council, European Parliament, Economic and Social Committee, the Committee of the Regions on implementing the information and communication strategy for the European Union, COM(2004) 196final, Brussels.
14 Commission Delegation to Turkey (2007) Information and Communications Support Programme, http://www.avrupa.info.tr/AB_Mali_Destegi/AB_Program_Bilgileri,Enformasyon_.letisim.html?LanguageID=2.
15 ABIG consists in the Turkish Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Ministry of Culture and Tourism, the Secretariat General for EU Affairs, TOBB, TUSIAD and IKV. See http://www.abig.org.tr/.
16 Ulgen, S (2006) ‘Turkish business and EU accession’, Centre for European Reform http://www.cer.org.uk/pdf/essay_turkish_business_accession_dec06.pdf.
17 Ibid.
18 Ibid.
19 Kinikliog˘lu, S. (2006) ‘Turkey needs to act on a communication strategy now’, Turkish Daily News, 16 November,
http://www.suatkiniklioglu.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=150&Itemid=914.
20 Ibid.
21 Secretariat General for the EU Affairs, EU-Turkey Communication Platform.
22 Dogan, C. (2005) ‘Der lange Weng nach Westen’, Politik & Kommunikation, March, http://www.euractiv.com/29/images/turkey_tcm29-137878.pdf.
23 As noted by Le Gloannec in her chapter, a noteworthy example in this respect is the recent book by Michel Rocard, which, while advocating Turkey’s cause, does not shy away from highlighting the costs and challenges to the EU and the negative sides of Turkey. See Rocard, M. (2008) Oui à la Turquie, Paris, Hachette.
24 In the case of Greece, the “Battle of Vienna Syndrome” does not exist. Negative stereotypes derive from the period of Ottoman rule over the Greek Orthodox population.
25 Commission of the EC (2004) Issues Arising from Turkey’s Membership Perspective, Commission Staff Working Document, SEC(2004) 1202, Brussels, 6 October.
26 As discussed at length in Talking Turkey I, a key question when discussing Turkey’s “impact” is the level at which such impact unfolds (e.g., the impact on the global, EU, national or candidate country levels). See Tocci, N (ed.) (2007) Conditionality, Impact and Prejudice in EUTurkey Relations, IAI Quaderni, English Series, Rome.
27 In the case of the UK however there has been a growing link being drawn by the media between the Turkish-Kurdish Diaspora and organized crime.
1. Existing Conceptualizations of a Communication Strategy
The importance of developing a Communication Strategy on Turkey was first recognized by the European Commission in the fall of 2004, when the opening of Turkey’s accession negotiations loomed on the horizon.1 In response, in April 2005 the Commissioner for Institutional Relations and Communication Strategy, Margot Wallstrom confidently declared that ‘enlargement [is] an easy thing to communicate […] a bit tricky, but still it [is] very concrete and it [is] something that could be done’.2 The issue of enlargement has indeed been “trickier” than anticipated, especially as far as Turkey is concerned. Before delving into the conclusions of our study, let us take a step back and assess how EU actors have conceptualized, crystallized and implemented such a Strategy, and what problems they have faced.
1.1 An EU Communication Strategy on the EU
Efforts to create a Communication Strategy were first directed to the broad question of the relationship between the EU and more specifically “Brussels” and the member states, and can be traced back almost a decade.In 2001, the European Commission published a Communication, whose aim was ‘to establish a new inter-institutional relationship, […] to provide information at grassroots level, […] to bring Europe closer to its citizens’.3 While not specifically aimed at elaborating a “strategy”, the Commission endeavoured to provide guidelines for a coordinated policy in the field of communication. A more detailed programme of action was announced in 2002, when the reasons to elaborate and implement a Communication Strategy were explicitly recognized. In particular, the Commission stressed the need to improve public perceptions of the Union through the implementation of an ‘information and communication policy’.4 The Strategy would aim at ‘polishing [the EU’s] image [and] developing the means of controlling [it]’.5
The approach was transparent: the objective of the Strategy was to present a new “face” for the Union, to improve its image; not to question its substance. This “window-dressing” approach has its merits. Some argue that ‘the EU’s soft power derives as much from style as from substance’.6 Moreover, “Brussels” does have an undeniable image problem – being viewed as dull, bureaucratic and elitist –, an image which does not do justice to its many virtues. Branding and re-branding the EU also helps contributing to the public perception of a single European face and voice. Aware of these pros, EU institutions have instinctively associated the need for “communication” with the creation and recreation of the Union’s “image”. As put by the Commission: ‘the acquisition of a new communication culture will depend on a coherent and methodical reconstruction of the “European Union’s image”.7 This approach was reproduced in successive documents, such as the 2005 Action Plan, the 2006 WhitePaper,8 as well as the 2005 Commission “Plan-D” for Democracy, Dialogue and Debate, aimed at responding to the French and Dutch rejections of the Constitutional Treaty. As a response to the European impasse, the Plan crystallizes the paradigm of communication interpreted as the reconstruction of image. The Plan aimed at generating public approval of the EU and of the Treaty by explaining the text (thus providing much-needed information on it) as well as by increasing its appeal by polishing its image (thus increasing its legitimacy): ‘Plan-D must seek to clarify, deepen and legitimize a new consensus on Europe’ (emphases added);9 its aim was not that of re-discussing the content of this consensus or the functioning of the EU as a whole.
Setting aside the merits and achievements of this approach, it evidently neglected a fundamental problem regarding both substance and strategy. The Commission’s window-dressing approach automatically implied that the EU’s faults were exclusively or at least primarily due to its image rather than its substance. This made the Commission an easy prey of civil society critiques that such a Communication Strategy was all about ‘selling Europe, [rather than] opening-up Europe’,10 as the Platform of European Social NGOs argued. This civil society forum stressed the fact that ‘communication cannot be addressed in an abstract way and always needs to be connected to content’.11 In other words, the three D’s (dialogue, debate and democracy) by definition ought to have implied a genuine openness to substantive change, achieved through dialogue and debate with civil society and the wider public.Yet the public struggled to see this. This is not to deny that a Communication Strategy must inevitably have a top-down element to it. In so far as effective and constructive communication hinges upon the delivery of “information”, EU-level actors in a first instance must provideinformation, in a re-branded and accessible manner, to the public.Yet if the aim is communication rather than “selling” a particular product or policy, this would be the beginning and not the end of the process. The difference between information delivery and communication lies precisely in the fact that once information is delivered and receives discernible reactions, those reactions are acknowledged, debated and followed-up by a genuine attempt to incorporate them in the construction of Europe. The absence of this second step in the process of communication has generated an internal inconsistency in the EU’s ensuing strategy. Precisely because the aim of a Communication Strategy is to bring the Union closer to its citizens, the latter’s perception of an EU which is not genuinely willing to question itself has hindered the Strategy’s objectives. It is difficult to see how the gap between Brussels and the European publics is to be bridged if the former openly states that its prime objective is that of polishing its image in order to “appear” rather than “become” more attractive to the latter.
1.2 An EU Communication Strategy on Enlargement
In view of worsening opinion poll figures, the question of enlargement was also acknowledged as an issue that required improved communication.12 To do so, the Commission proposed a joint EU-member state effort to develop a coherent communication policy, aimed at persuading Europeans of the need and desirability of enlargement. The Commission in 2004 focused on the implementation of an information and communication strategy, highlighting the role of national institutions in this process. It also stressed that the object of this Strategy was not only the 2004 enlargement, but also the ongoing enlargement process: the Communication Strategy ‘should also cover the ongoing negotiations with the other candidate countries,’ and not be restricted to the entry of the ten new member states.13
Reading in and in-between the lines of the Commission’s documents several points stand out. First and most importantly, the Communication Strategy on enlargement displays a striking “one-size-fits-all” approach. While recognizing member state (and candidate country) actors as indispensable part-ners in the process, the Commission does not address specific strategies to each country, assuming that views and arguments on enlargement are homogenous across the Union and beyond. Yet there is no single “European public debate” on enlargement, there are several, interlocking European debates, rooted in the overlapping yet different historical trajectories, interests and ideas within the European mosaic.
Second, and as in the case of the Communication Strategy on the EU, the Communication Strategy on enlargement is interpreted as a one-way process. The communication is intended to flow from the Union, through national institutions, to the public, rather than envisaging the reverse process of communication as well. It sets aside the need for a genuine “twoway communication” and associates communication with information-provision from the EU to the national level, albeit information presented in a more appealing manner to the European publics. This brings to the fore a central problem to which we return to below: a conflict of interests which arises between the aim of “managing enlargement” and that of “communicating enlargement”. If genuine communication entails a readiness to change in substance (i.e., questioning enlargement), then a contradiction arises in the Commission’s mandate to manage the accession process with existing candidate countries. Whereas genuine communication can be promoted directly by the Commission as far as potential candidates and other neighbours are concerned (e.g., Ukraine or Moldova), it cannot directly promote as easily a genuine Communication Strategy for existing candidate countries such as Turkey.
Finally, the Communication Strategy on enlargement is meant to inform the public in general rather than elite national stakeholders within the EU and in the candidate countries as target audiences in their own right. National actors are seen exclusively as transmitters in the implementation of the Commission’s Strategy rather than as target audiences. In the case of Turkey, while the Commission delegation in Ankara has identified the media and business amongst its elite and mid-level target groups of a Communication Strategy,14 tellingly, Turkish institutional actors are excluded from the list, being viewed only as transmitters to reach the public rather than target audiences as well.Yet public opinion is formed prima-rily through the views expressed by national stakeholders, including institutional ones, and thus much of the misinformation and misperceptions permeating public debate reflect the deficiencies embedded in the national messages delivered to citizens. In other words, national elite and midlevel actors are not simply the necessary filters, translating EU messages to the European publics in languages that resonate. Related to the first critique raised above, a two-way process of information-sharing is necessary, with national actors being the mediators, who communicate to the public and communicate back to the EU level the concerns, perceptions and interests of the public.Without this mediating role, the process of communication, which allows both sides to inform and be informed, risks being truncated, thus thwarting the goal of a Communication Strategy.
On closer inspection, the interplay and circularity in these critiques is essential for the purpose of our study.A Communication Strategy has so far been conceptualized and implemented as a one-way street, in which EU actors present “objective” information to the European publics in a more appealing, repackaged and rebranded manner. In order to do so, the role of national-level actors is critical, in translating EU messages in languages – literally and figuratively – that resonate with the people. This process of rebranding, through the aid of national mediators, certainly inserts an element of differentiation in the process. Yet differentiation is limited to the delivery of the message, its style and language, and not to the message itself, whose content remains undifferentiated across national and sectoral contexts. Closing the circle, differentiation does not go deeper precisely because communication is interpreted as a one-way street stemming from a single set of actors (and the Commission in particular) to the public. Yet the public disclosure of this approach has also sowed the seeds of its limited success, not only because it has been viewed as a quintessentially topdown window-dressing process, but also because it has failed to engage with the “real” debates – prejudiced or otherwise – rooted within European societies.
1.3 A Turkish Communication Strategy on EU-Turkey Relations
Turning to Turkey, here the most salient effort to report and comment upon is that undertaken by Turkish institutions to communicate their case for membership to the EU and to the Turkish public. In 2000, the government established its Secretariat General for EU Affairs in order to coordinate the efforts of several domestic institutions involved in the harmonization withEU laws and regulations. More recently, the Secretariat has developed a project called “EU-Turkey Communication Platform”, aimed at ensuring an interactive communication among all relevant stakeholders in both Turkey
and the EU. Others have followed suit. The “Avrupa Birligˇi Iletisim Grubu” (European Union Communication Group – ABIG) is a partnership of Turkish public and private organizations established to provide accurate information about Turkey’s progress towards EU accession.15 It should be noted however, that in the overall cooling-off climate in EU-Turkey relations since 2004 many of these projects have lost their momentum and no new public-private initiatives have been taken.16
These Turkish efforts are commendable in so far as they expressly target national stakeholders in Turkey, the EU and the candidate countries as well as public opinion writ large. This is particularly evident in the target audiences identified by the EU-Turkey Communication Platform. Indeed, on the Turkish side these include not only individuals, but also ministries and public institutions, the private sector, non-governmental organizations, universities and the mass media. The list continues on the EU side, including EU institutions, member states, candidate countries, embassies of member states and embassies of candidate countries.17 In terms of EU member states, particular attention is paid to the Belgian, French, German and British cases.18 In the case of ABIG instead, communication efforts are targeted specifically to decision-makers and the media. Its goal is that of informing these elite mediators in order for these actors to communicate effectively with the general public.
Yet this greater degree of differentiation in Turkey’s communication efforts opens up, not only in the specific case of Turkey, but also on a broader conceptual level, a problem of coordination, vision and strategy. Some have pointed out that a comprehensive strategy in Turkey has not come to the fore yet largely because of problems of coordination. At present, there are approximately 33 institutions which provide information, from and about Turkey, ‘however, there is almost no coordination, no strategic outlook andno resources to reach out to foreign audiences on key Turkish foreign policy issues’.19 Hence ‘[w]hat is needed is a new agency with a chief communicator who coordinates Turkey’s communication with European and foreign audiences’ claims Suat Kinikliogˇlu.20 Achieving a strategy that is both differentiated as well as coherent and coordinated is no small feat. While full coordination in a strict sense may be difficult to come by, a common strategic outlook and a unifying idea appears critical in providing overall coherence to the differentiated communication efforts of different actors to different audiences. Another problem is the inconsistency of pursuing concomitantly the goal of effective communication while also favouring a particular outcome regarding the object of such communication. This has been the main problem bedeviling Turkish efforts in communicating with EU-sceptics in Turkey and Turkey-sceptics in the EU. Inevitably, the aim underpinning Turkey’s efforts to elaborate a Communication Strategy is to promote its accession course. Turkish actors have not shied away from stating this reality. The aim of a Communication Strategy is deliberately not “neutral”, but aimed at ‘reach[ing] a “conscious acceptance” by the majority of the Turkish public for Turkish membership to the EU.’21 To this we may add the goal of selling Turkey’s case to the EU, by highlighting the positive and downplaying the negative aspects of Turkey’s accession.22 Yet this inevitably creates a perception of bias within the targeted audiences, a perceived bias which dilutes the objective strength of the arguments raised regarding both the pros and the cons of Turkey’s membership.
In the case of Turkey of course, there is no way of effectively by-passing this problem, and perhaps recognizing it upfront is the best way forward. Yet when it comes to an EU Communication Strategy on Turkey it is of fundamental importance that this “conflict of interests” is hedged against. It is in this spirit that we argue that a Communication Strategy on Turkey ought not to simply and directly promote Turkey’s EU accession, but rather instill a more open, informed and empathic debate on the question, a goal, whichif achieved, cannot but support Turkey’s EU bid.
The main conclusions from this overview can be summarized as follows:
- The need for a Communication Strategy to be a two-way street and have in-built within it the readiness to change, in substance and not only in style. This also entails the need for a Communication Strategy to have “communication” as its prime object and purpose if it is to be viewed as genuine and credible by its recipients, thus avoiding to push for a particular
policy position;
- The need for a Communication Strategy to be differentiated and view national-level stakeholders as targets and not only transmitters of an EU message. This relates to the need for a Communication Strategy to include a wide variety of actors, differentiating its messages, its audiences and its messengers;
- The need for a Communication Strategy to retain overall vision, coordination and purpose despite its internal differentiation and dynamism.
2. Building an EU Communication Strategy on Turkey
Having distilled what we mean – and what we don’t mean – by a Communication Strategy let us apply these lessons to the case of an EU Communication Strategy on Turkey.
2.1 An Informed Two-Way Communication
The objective of an EU Communication Strategy on Turkey, thus, ought to have “communication” as its object and purpose. It would not use communication as a means to promote Turkey’s EU accession, i.e., as a public relations campaign for Turkey. While initiatives such as those carried out by Turkey or by member states such as the UK (e.g., through its UK-Turkey Strategic Partnership as discussed by Whitman) are of critical importance, they do not share the interpretation of a Communication Strategy endorsed here. Only if the genuine aim is that of promoting communication per se would a Communication Strategy avoid the temptation of persuading EU stakeholders and publics of the desirability of Turkey’s EU membership and rather engage in an authentic debate over the pros and cons of accession. Such communication would have two principal functions. On the one hand, it would engage in a debate on the “real” issues on the minds of stakeholders
and publics, including the thorniest questions surrounding Turkey’s accession. On the other hand, it would provide information and attempt toinstil a more constructive and informed debate on these questions. These two interrelated functions of a Communication Strategy would promote a healthier enlargement process to Turkey, which would hedge against the spoiling potential of misperceptions, avoiding ugly surprises either during the accession process or at its conclusion. It is in this, indirect, manner that a Communication Strategy would support Turkey’s European prospects.
Listening and responding to public concerns
Turning to the first function, a Communication Strategy would listen to and tackle head-on the concerns of stakeholders and publics, and thus engage in a genuine two-way communication with them. As pointed out by Lippert, there is little empirical information on why exactly German citizens hold negative attitudes towards Turkey’s accession process. The same can be said of other member states as well. If the aim is to influence public opinion and respond to it through a Communication Strategy, then in a first instance more information on what the public thinks is needed. This information can be collected through polling or compiled by establishing forums for domestic dialogue with representatives of civil society. An interesting
example of this is the “German Islam Conference” (DIK) established by the Ministry of the Interior in 2006. The DIK does not tackle directly EU-Turkey relations, but deals with relations between the German state and its Muslim citizens. It is important in highlighting the method of communication, which is indeed a two-way dialogue, beginning with an appreciation and understanding of the concerns of all parties.
Engaging in genuine dialogue would also entail avoiding the temptation of
not dealing with the hottest issues surrounding the Turkey question. Some may think that it is wiser to postpone public debate on potentially explosive topics altogether or up until when Turkey’s accession comes closer on the horizon. All authors confirm that to date, the thorniest issues surrounding the Turkey question have rested in the identity-religion-migration nexus. Especially in cases such as Italy, Poland or the UK, where the debate on Turkey has been rather low-key because it has not been associated (yet) with this nexus, the temptation may be that of avoiding the subject. Indeed if the aim is that of directly promoting Turkey’s accession process, then the argument “if it ain’t broken don’t fix it” holds sway. This is particularly true from a Commission perspective, whose mandate is that of proceeding with the accession process, rather than questioning its desirability. Indeed from a Commission point of view (and indeed from Turkey’s too), the argument isthat Turkey should have been “talked about” prior to 1999 when it was accorded candidate status. Since then, as put by Esen and Bölükbas¸ı, the debate about Turkey ought to be about “when and how” and not about “whether” it should enter the EU. As far as the Commission is concerned, its mandate to negotiate accession is in fact grounded precisely on the understanding that Turkey was talked about and a consensus emerged from that talk in 1999. This relates back to the conflict of interests within the Commission between “communicating enlargement” and “managing enlargement” highlighted above.We return to this contradiction and a possible way out of it below.
While these authors sympathize with this position, from the perspective of promoting genuine communication, the picture changes. True, Turkey ought to have been talked about openly prior to the recognition of its candidacy in 1999. But it was not. And when public debate is ignited, as it was in France or Austria, often for unrelated domestic political reasons, it tends to take radical and unexpected turns. The most evident case in point is that
of Austria, where prior to 2004, Turkey was not debated at all, and certainly not in terms of identity, religion and migration. Yet when the debate was sparked in the context of domestic political competition – i.e., the rise of the FPÖ and the need for the two people’s parties to react – prejudices imbued in xenophobic rhetoric spread like wildfire. Had those issues been discussed beforehand in a less populist and less polarized political climate we may have expected a different outcome. As argued by Günay, Austria today presents a new opportunity. After several years of populist Turkey talk, the decision to hold a referendum on Turkey’s accession has calmed spirits in the country.A similar argument is put forth by Le Gloannec in the
French context. Yet rather than using this period of calm to revert back to the former “don’t talk Turkey” approach, this opportunity could be used to proactively instil a more cool-headed and informed debate about Turkey. This re-energized debate however would only steal the thunder of populist, prejudiced or uninformed “Turkey talk” if it responded to not shied away from the preoccupations bedevilling Austrian and French societies. These arguments would not avoid dealing with “real” public concerns over immigration, social welfare, the pace of enlargement and the future of the European political project. They would not replicate the silencing approach adopted during the eastern enlargements, which then boomeranged on public views regarding the ongoing process of enlargement to the Western Balkans, Turkey and beyond.
Providing information
This leads to the second function of genuine communication, i.e., that of injecting informed facts and arguments into the public debates.23 Without attempting to simply persuade the publics of the advantages of Turkey’s accession, greater information is likely to benefit Turkey’s EU bid. The lesson from the UK in particular seems to be that the greater the knowledge of and direct engagement with Turkey, especially amongst elite stakeholders, and the less susceptible the environment to hostile and prejudiced views about Turkey’s accession. Likewise, in Germany, Lippert suggests that there is a positive correlation between education and pro-Turkish attitudes. While the function of information-provision has an inevitable top-down element, reminiscent of the Commission’s “Plan D” on the Constitutional Treaty, information-delivery in the context of a two-way communication would respond to rather than speak on top of the concerns of the public. In other words, the function of information-provision would be intrinsically tied to the function of listening to and debating about the questions concerning societies, including the most sensitive subjects.
The chapters in this volume mention several areas in which information provision is of the essence. In chapters on Austria, Denmark, France, Greece and Poland, the emphasis is placed on the need to provide more and better information in the realms of history and culture, through the revision of history books, but also through greater efforts in the realms of art and entertainment. Through these different mediums, the aim would be that of adding nuance to the monolithic “Battle of Vienna syndrome”, in which the Turks are represented as the unknown “other”,24 by bringing to the forefront “Marcus Aurelius’ foot”, that is the many ways in which Turks have been part and parcel of Europe’s complex and evolving history, art and culture. This would include not only bringing to the fore elements of Turkish tradition but also of Turkish modernity in the realms of music, art and entertainment.
In the UK and Italy, authors focus on migration and integration. These are questions that have not “short-circuited” yet in both countries, as well as in Poland, but may do so in future for different reasons, including“Christian public opinion” in Italy and Poland, and the link between migration and enlargement in the minds of the British public. Hence, the need to provide accurate information on existing migration flows to and from Turkey, projections on whether and how there may be labour migratory consequences from Turkey’s accession, and on what the social, political and economic implications of these would be. Furthermore, information would also be provided and discussed as regards to the trends of integration of existing Turkish communities living in these countries. This would be done to pre-empt the emergence of a dominant prejudiced narrative on migration from Turkey in the national medias and by political figures at some point in future.
A third and final argument, which may be worth exploring, in order to hedge against its possible manipulations in future, is the link between the financial crisis and Turkey’s membership prospects. The crisis and its implications on the European economy and political systems cannot be foreseen. In turn, its impact on the enlargement project in general, and Turkey’s accession in particular, cannot be anticipated. Yet given the inevitably far-reaching implications of the crisis, we may expect a link being drawn in public
debates between the crisis and Turkey’s accession process. It may thus be worth preparing such public debates by instilling within the EU information about Turkey’s position, reactions and adjustments to the crisis.
A cost-benefit approach to communication
Having listened to public concerns and the reasons underpinning those concerns through national polling and civil society dialogue, and having provided information there where it is missing or one-sided, a Communication Strategy would adopt a cost-benefit approach to the question of Turkey’s accession. It is above all in this respect that a Communication Strategy must avoid downplaying the costs while overstating the benefits of Turkey’s membership. For it to be credible, a Communication Strategy must not, and must not be seen, as promoting Turkey’s accession course. It is here again that the delicate balancing act of the Commission as manager of Turkey’s accession process and communicator of Turkey’s accession process comes to the fore. In 2004 the Commission published a cost-benefit analysis of Turkey’s future membership.25 The approach was laudable in many respects, andremains the most serious and systematic attempt to assess the possible impacts of Turkey’s accession to date. However, this “one-size-fits-all” impact study failed to strike many chords in European public debates. A single cost-benefit balance-sheet has the advantage of reaching clear “objective” answers or reasoned hypotheses to complex questions. Yet it cannot escape the critique that providing an authoritative balance-sheet of the state of affairs in an indefinite future on the relationship between two movi and multifaceted objects – the EU and Turkey – is next to impossible.26 Furthermore, a single impact study necessarily fails to engage with the different and specific preoccupations across national, regional and sectoral domains within the EU and Turkey.
A Communication Strategy would not have the ambition of presenting an “impact study”. It would however engage with the pro and con arguments within different geographical and sectoral arenas in the EU and Turkey in order to promote a more informed and constructive debate on the different dimensions of EU-Turkey relations. It would respond to the different
arguments and concerns of different stakeholders and publics. This would imply first responding to the specific questions viewed as important by different European stakeholders. Hence, as suggested by Alessandri and Canan, when debating with trade unions, a main subject of debate would be the costs and benefits of Turkey’s accession regarding EU and Turkish labour rights. Second, cost-benefit arguments would be framed in a manner that resonates, i.e., they would be aware of and respond to the particular interests and worldviews of specific stakeholders. Hence, when speaking to a French federalist, as opposed to a British eurosceptic, it would be nonsensical to present as a benefit the hypothesis that Turkey’s accession would dampen the European political project. Doing so would either fall on deaf ears or consolidate rather than question existing assumptions regarding EUTurkey relations within specific groups.
2.2 A Differentiated and Dynamic Strategy
The discussion above opens the way to a second prerequisite of an EU Communication Strategy on Turkey: the need for it to be differentiated and dynamic. But what do we mean by this? What has emerged over the courseof this two-year project is that there is no EU debate on Turkey. The debates vary widely across as well as within member states, adding to this complex EU reality the debate in Turkey itself as well as within the Brussels-based policy community. These different debates are the reflection of different interests and ideas, which are either directly or indirectly related to the EU-Turkey question. These debates also oscillate over time, whereby particular issues are sparked and others diffused in public debates at different points in time, again as the result of the changing configurations of domestic, regional and international interests and ideas. In other words, an effective Communication Strategy cannot be a “one-size-fits-all” EUwide strategy, but must be based on a careful and constantly monitored selection of its content, timing and interlocutors. It must target the right audience, at the right time, with the right message delivered by the right messenger.
As this book has attempted to do, a differentiated and dynamic Communication Strategy must begin with an analysis of the different stakeholders within member states, the EU and Turkey. This analysis would seek to uncover who these actors are, what their position is, what the interests and ideas underlying such positions are, and how these intersect with the Turkey question. Having undertaken such analysis here, let us turn to examine what a differentiated and dynamic Communication Strategy might look like.
A differentiated message
The first and most evident point to make, linking back to a Communication Strategy which resonates with the interests and concerns of its audiences, is that the message delivered by such a Strategy must respond to the existing debate within a specified group. Hence, there is little point in presenting the geostrategic costs and benefits of Turkey’s accession when the existing debate is focused on the effect of Turkey’s accession on EU institutions, its budget or its agricultural policy. A subtler variant of this point would be that even the same topic may be treated in a variety of ways depending on who the specific interlocutor is. Let us take the question of identity-religion to highlight this point, an aspect which across the EU represents the single most important source of resistance to Turkey’s accession.
Here we can unpack a set of different arguments whose appropriateness would depend on the specific audience to whom the message is delivered and discussed. A first argument is that of Turkey having a (positive) impact on a multicultural EU, which makes of multiculturalism, alongside toler-ance and coexistence, a principal defining feature of its identity. This is an argument that would resonate well with European socialist, liberal and leftwing political groups, with liberal/left-leaning intellectuals and civil society organizations, and with Diaspora community associations. It would strike the wrong chords instead with right-wing and ethnocentrist political, media and civil society groups, or with those who identify the EU with its Christian-Judaic roots in member states such as Italy and Poland.
Second, Turkey can and has been presented as a bridge to the Middle East and a model of Muslim democracy, thus strengthening the EU’s foreign policy potential. This is an argument that tends to resonate well with the foreign policy community across the EU, and has been often cited by the foreign and defence communities in member states such as Italy and the UK, as well as sceptical member states such as France and Germany. As argued by Lippert, this argument is convincing to foreign policy realists who aspire at strengthening the relative “power” of the West vis-à-vis the Muslim world, as well as to liberal internationalists who view the EU as a civilian post-national power that projects its norms beyond its borders. Yet not all foreign policy experts would value highly this line of reasoning. As argued by Balcer, in Poland foreign policy attention turns east: to Russia, Eastern Europe and the Caucasus. Polish foreign policy experts have less of an interest
in building a bridge to the Middle East and the Muslim world and are more concerned with Turkey’s relations with Russia and the Caucasus, as well as the links drawn between Turkey’s accession process and Ukraine’s EU perspective. In the case of Greece also, this line of reasoning holds little sway amongst foreign policy realists, who remain anchored to the idea that Turkey ought to be contained and weakened through all possible means. As argued by Jung, beyond foreign policy this argument would not strike any chords with stakeholders across member states who view Islam and liberal democracy as incompatible, and would thus use the slightest glitch in Turkey’s human rights record to affirm their thesis. In other words, even if we were to see an entirely reformed Turkey with glittering human rights standards projecting peace and stability to its neighbourhood, any minimal incident in Turkey would be flagged as “proof” of the unbridgeable cultural gap separating “Muslim Turkey” from “Christian Europe”.
Third, Turkey can be represented as one of the cradles of Christian civilization while being a predominantly Muslim country. Polish and Italian “Christian public opinion”, the Roman Catholic Church, Law & Justice in Poland as well as Catholic networks, social clubs and student fraternities inAustria would abhor arguments that present Turkey as an asset to a multicultural Europe. Yet they may be more sensitive to arguments regarding Turkey’s role in the history of Christianity. Hence the importance of Pope Benedict XVI’s apostolic visit to Turkey in November 2006 cited by several authors in this volume.
Finally, Turkey can feature in European debates on secularism. Notwithstanding its peculiar interpretation of secularism, certainly distinct from the French understanding of laïcité as discussed by Le Gloannec,Turkey is a secular state in so far as it is a country where citizens can be either religious practicing or not, and both are accepted by the state and society. This is an argument that may appeal to European secularists, as well as right-ofcentre and conservative groups with little sympathy for “Islam”. By contrast, other conservative parties in Europe, and in particular Christian democratic parties in Italy, Austria and Germany may find more appealing arguments about the AKP as a “Muslim democratic” party, comparable to their own parties, which are liberal in economic outlook but socially conservative.
A differentiated audience
The messages delivered and debated by a Communication Strategy would focus on two sets of actors: elite and mid-level stakeholders on the one hand and public opinion on the other. However, whereas in the case of stakeholders a Communication Strategy would foresee a genuine two-way debate, in the case of “public opinion” the Strategy would envisage an indirect form of communication through the mediation of national stakeholders. National stakeholders would represent the views of the wider public to the EU level and communicate back to the public the messages elaborated in the context of the Communication Strategy. In other words, a Communication Strategy would target directly national stakeholders and
through them reach the wider public.
Across all member states we note that elite stakeholders tend to hold more open views regarding the Turkey question than “public opinion”. On the one hand, this would facilitate the task of a Communication Strategy. On the other hand, this finding shadows the reality that public opinion is formed through the messages delivered by elite stakeholders, which in turn often hide behind public opinion when adopting defensive positions in a classic Putnamite “two-level game”. In other words, to reach-out to public opinion it is essential that debate is undertaken with national stakeholders, who would mediate more nuanced messages to the publics.
The stakeholder audiences across member states include several actors. First we find state institutions and the civil service. These actors tend to have greater influence in member states in which Turkey is a low-level political issue, such as in Poland or the UK, as well as in countries where there is a relatively strong bi-partisan support for Turkey’s EU accession, such as the UK or Italy. These actors also tend to hold rather positive views on Turkey’s accession in so far as they are driven above all by foreign policy considerations, making them more open to the positive geopolitical arguments about Turkey’s accession. This is because actors within state institutions dealing with Turkey are normally located in foreign ministries or in foreign affairs committees in parliaments, as discussed in chapters on Poland and the UK in particular. Furthermore, civil services are sensitive to pacta sunt servanda arguments, whereby Turkey, having been granted candidacy in 1999, ought to proceed with the accession process on the exclusive basis of its compliance with EU conditions, as argued by Turkish stakeholders as well.
Second we find political parties. This is the domain where we report the largest degree of variance across member states. It is these differences, rooted in the domestic politics and trajectories of each member state, which above all else explain the absence of a single European debate on Turkey. The area of similarity and overlap across member states lies in the extremes. Far-right parties tend to oppose resolutely Turkey’s membership on the grounds of religion and culture, being backed by some segments within strongly Catholic parties. Hence, the similar rhetoric permeating the Lega Nord in Italy, FPÖ in Austria, the Dansk Folkeparti in Denmark, the Mouvement pour la France and LAOS in Greece, as well as some elements within Law & Justice in Poland, the CDU/CSU in Germany or the Union of Christian Democrats in Italy. Parties on the far-left instead often tend to mildly oppose Turkey’s accession while being open to change. They reject Turkey’s membership in view of its human rights record, its treatment of the Kurds, its reluctance to recognize the Armenian genocide and its deregulated labour markets. However, they would be ready to accept Turkey’s accession if the country were to fully reform and are enthusiastic of the assets Turkey would bring to a multicultural Europe. Following this line of thinking we find Rifondazione Comunista in Italy, Socialistisk Folkeparti in Denmark as well as the Greens in Austria. When it comes to the mass centre- left and centre-right parties in the EU, differences prevail instead. In some member states we find strong bipartisan support in favour of Turkey’s accession (Italy, UK, Greece), in others cautious or weak bipartisan support(Denmark and Poland), in others strong bipartisan rejection of Turkey’s EU bid (Austria and France), while in other still stark divisions both within and between parties (Germany).
Third, we find business, which across all member states represents the single most ardent, committed and undivided supporter of Turkey’s EU cause. While claims that Turkey is “already in Europe” may give rise to doubts regarding the degree to which business is truly interested in Turkey’s membership, most confirm the importance attributed to Turkey’s reform process, which they view as being intrinsically tied to the anchor of membership. In other words, while EU business stakeholders consider Turkey to be already “in Europe”, as confirmed by their trade and investment decisions, their expectation as well as their desire is that Turkey becomes a full EU member state. Interestingly, this is largely true also of the most sceptical member states: France and Austria. This said, business has been a relatively silent stakeholder in the debate, having sway on government positions, but not exposing itself in public debate.With few and far away exceptions such as the the report published by Dansk Industri in Denmark, the activities of TÜSIAD in Germany, or the Saison de la Turquie financed by French business, the strong and committed support of business stakeholders has not translated into a vocal EU-wide economic lobby in support of Turkey’s cause.
Fourth, we find trade unions and economic interest groups. Here the story to be told is fairly consistent across member states, and most notably in Germany, Italy and France. While far from being vocal, trade unions tend to take an interest in Turkey and are open to the prospect of Turkey’s accession – or at the very least they are certainly not against Turkey’s EU bid for reasons related to religion and culture. However, trade unions are concerned with the state of labour rights in Turkey and the deregulation of the Turkish labour market, which, they fear, could either spill-into the EU or may generate unfair competitive pressures on member state workers. This is particularly true of some sectors, such as the agricultural one in member states such as Italy or the FNSEA in France.
Fifth, we find the media. Here again the story to be told is fairly similar across the EU. The media, on the whole tends to paint a rather negative image of Turkey, driven above all by its commercial logic whereby stereotypes, sensationalism and alarmism “sell”. This is certainly true of the tabloid press in cases like Poland and the UK, television in Germany, but also, to a lower degree, of the principal national dailies across member states, with the possi-ble exceptions of Germany or the UK.27 Cross-cutting tendencies in member state medias include “culturalizing” political issues and reporting about Turkey’s EU accession in the context of Islam, focusing on tragic incidents or crises, and linking these back to the depiction of Turkey as the unknown “other” and its inability to conform to “European standards of civilization”.
Sixth, we find the Churches. Here again, the position of the churches is fairly consistent across member states. As far as the Catholic Church is concerned, the message of the Vatican has been cautious, yet some Catholic personalities have expressed a resolutely negative stance on the Turkey question. Reasons include broad-brush arguments related to Europe’s “Christian identity”, as well as more subtle arguments related to the rights of Christians in Turkey. Protestant churches in Germany and France in particular have discussed Turkey both in the context of religious freedoms as well as in terms of secularism and its meaning in Europe. This fairly homogenous message of churches across member states must however be mapped against the different degrees of influence that the churches yield within them. On one end of the spectrum we find Italy and Poland, where the views of the Vatican hold considerable sway on public opinion. On the other end, we find the UK, Denmark and interestingly, Greece, where the Church either has been conditionally favourable to Turkey’s accession (Greece) or has little sway over public opinion (UK and Denmark). In the middle we find Austria, France and Germany, where both Catholic and Protestant churches have spoken on the Turkey question but have influence on specific sectors of society rather than on public opinion writ large.
Finally, we find Diaspora communities. Here again the story is fairly consistent, with Turkish Diaspora communities being viewed as “silent stakeholders”. This is either because of their small numbers (Poland, Italy), because they are weakly organized (Austria, France, Denmark), because they are relatively well-integrated and thus “disappear” in the public space (Italy), or because the political system reduces the prospects for community groups to make an impact through electoral politics (UK). Only in Germany, in view of the sheer size of the Turkish community, the EU-Turkey cause is promoted by well-known personalities of Turkish origin and associations (often organized as “Muslim” rather than specifically Turkish organizations). This notwith-standing, in member states such as France, Denmark, Germany and Austria, the real and perceived non-integration of these “silent stakeholders” becomes a prime source of argumentation against Turkey’s EU bid by other vocal stakeholders. This relates to and contrasts with another Diaspora community: the French of Armenian origin. While not being one monolithic community, the level of integration and organization of the French Armenians has allowed them to occupy much of the space left vacant by a poor, irresponsible and unresponsive leadership regarding the EU-Turkey question.
Differentiate the messenger
A differentiated Communication Strategy ought to have at its core a differentiated message, a differentiated audience, but also, and less obviously, a differentiated messenger. The same message if delivered by one stakeholder as opposed to another can have a very different effect. To take one evident example, it may well be counterproductive for a British conservative, perceived as auguring the dilution of the European political project, to argue the merits of Turkey’s accession to a French or a German federalist. It may be far more appropriate for Italian diplomacy or political parties to argue Turkey’s case to their French or German counterparts, in so far as Italy is viewed as a more committed Europeanist member state.
Exploring this question further, three actors have punched beneath their weight in their communications on Turkey. First and most evidently is the case of business, which while being an ardent, committed and virtually undivided supporter of Turkey’s EU accession across the EU spectrum, has been rather silent in public debate. This silence, particularly in member states such as Austria or France, may be linked to the belief of there is little point in publicly swimming against the tide of public opinion in a situation in which “business as usual” proceeds in economic relations with Turkey. Yet business stakeholders, while ill-equipped to capture and contribute to the “ideational” arguments regarding EU-Turkey relations (e.g., identity, religion, etc), can contribute to highlighting the gains, as well as the challenges to both national and EU economies stemming from Turkey’s entry. Particularly if these arguments are articulated more vocally by business actors alongside trade unions and professional associations, some of the space occupied by the alarmist economic messages given by some political figures may be rebalanced in public debate.
Second and displaying the most urgent need of attention is the media.Wehave already discussed how the media, across member states, bears a major responsibility in (mis)representing Turkey to EU publics. At the same time it is recognized by all as a, if not the, key messenger with the power to mould European debates on Turkey. The question becomes how to ensure that the message delivered by the media becomes more nuanced and coolheaded, focusing not only on moments of political crisis or covering Turkey in the context of Islam, but also devoting space and attention to other issues surrounding the EU-Turkey debate such as culture, art, history, as well as Turkey’s complex process of political, social and economic transformation. In all member states, journalists are identified as key targets of information campaigns, highlighting the need to establish more organic links between academia and the media regarding the Turkey question, as well as between journalists and media holdings in Turkey and in EU member states. A key example in this respect are the joint Greek-Turkish media initiatives such as the Greek-Turkish Journalists’ Forum and the synergies explored by the Dog˘an Holding in Turkey and Kathimerini in Greece, explored in the chapter by Ifantis and Fotiou.
Finally, three chapters in this volume have examined the multifaceted role of the single most important external stakeholder in European debates on Turkey: the United States. All concur that the US has played a decisive role at key points in time in EU-Turkey relations (e.g., in conjunction with the European Council meetings taking major decisions on Turkey between 1999 and 2004). All agree that this influence has declined in recent years, primarily because Turkey has become an increasingly “internal” EU matter. Yet what emerges from the chapters by Barkey, Lesser and Ojanen is also that American influence has at times punched beneath its weight, while at other times it has misfired. The US appears not to have made the most of its potential influence primarily because it has pressed for Turkey’s cause by relying upon geostrategic and geoeconomic considerations, which in turn hold sway primarily in those member states which are already “converted” to Turkey’s cause (e.g., the UK, Italy or Poland). A possible exception here is Germany, where at least some stakeholders appear to be increasingly sensitive to geopolitical arguments. Furthermore, in some respects, US policies have, unintentionally, backfired in the EU, by pushing Turkey increasingly into the Middle East either in concrete (e.g., through the war in Iraq) or discursive terms (by talking about Turkey within the paradigm of the “clash of civilizations”).
Either way, the underlying line emerging from these chapters is that beyondgeopolitics, US messengers could target more effectively other EU stakeholders. These include the European human rights communities, often concentrated on the liberal and left ends of the political spectrum, which are at times sceptical of Turkey while open to change their views.Washington could target these stakeholders not only directly by engaging in debate with them, but also and above all by strengthening its messages to Turkey regardin its reforms and domestic politics. It is above all in this way that the remaining concerns about Turkey representing an “American Trojan horse” in Europe, often voiced by liberal and left quarters in Europe, would diffuse or disappear.
2.3 Retaining Overall Vision
This project has argued and these chapters confirmed that a “European Communication Strategy on Turkey” ought to be differentiated and dynamic in order to be effective. It must be differentiated in terms of its messengers, its messages as well as its target audiences, departing from “one-sizefits-all” approaches to communication. The Strategy must be finely tuned
in order to address the multiplicity of discourses and actors within each and every member state. The Strategy must also be dynamic, by carefully selecting its moments of intervention and promptly reacting when public debates inflame and veer in dangerous directions. Moreover, an effective and influential Communication Strategy must not blindly promote Turkey’s accession course, but rather engage, genuinely, with the interests, beliefs and arguments dominating European public debates. A Communication Strategy must engage in a genuine two-way conversation with different European stakeholders and constituencies in the EU-Turkey question.
Yet, we are left with two dilemmas. First, if a Strategy is to be differentiated with a plethora of messages, audiences and messengers, how can it retain overall coherence? Coherence and coordination call for a Strategist pulling the strings of communication, but wouldn’t a single Strategist undermine the efforts of achieving differentiation? Second, if a Strategy is to avoid simply pushing for Turkey’s EU cause, who is to carry it out? Both candidate Turkey and the Commission mandated to negotiate Turkey’s membership have an underlying conflict of interests, wishing to proceed with accession without jeopardizing it with communications that may undermine the project of enlargement. Even if the underlying premise of a Communication Strategy and indeed of this project is that a healthierprocess of communication would indirectly support Turkey’s EU bid, what is clear is that genuine communication would go right to the heart of the overall desirability of Turkey’s membership, a question which both Turkey and the Commission would find difficult to deal with in an open-minded manner. Yet who then could act as the Strategizer who would formulate, coordinate, implement and constantly revise this Communication Strategy? These two dilemmas are closely intertwined and the way out rests precisely in their interlinkage. There is no actor other than the Commission who could provide the necessary coordination and strategic vision underpinning an EU Communication Strategy on Turkey. This does not entail that the Commission must be on the frontline of such a Strategy, elaborating the messages and delivering these to different audiences. Indeed its vested interests in Turkey’s accession course is such that it cannot be at the forefront of such communications. The Commission would rather select and promote fora for dialogue between specific messengers and target audiences, based upon its understanding of the different debates that resonate within different national and sectoral contexts. In other words, the Commission would initiate and coordinate the communications between different European stakeholders, providing coherence and vision in the overall architecture of the Strategy and not in the substantive messages delivered within it. The Commission would also listen to these differentiated debates, enriching its own substantive communications to select stakeholders and audiences. Its Communication Strategy would thus begin with an appreciation of the stakeholders, arguments and audiences involved in public debates; it would proceed with coordinating and promoting communications between these actors, and it would conclude by revising its own substantive communications on the grounds of the mediated messages it has heard. Hence the dynamism as well as the differentiation in the Strategy.
A supporting idea regarding the overall architecture of a Communication Strategy and the Commission’s own substantive messages would be that of seeking an overall “big idea” underpinning and weaving a strong yet subtle thread across the many messages communicated to and from the Strategy. This idea would have the same strength and appeal as the “transition from dictatorship” in the case of the southern enlargements, “economic development” in the case of the northern enlargements, or the “reunification of Europe” in the case of the eastern enlargements.
Such a single and powerful idea in the case of Turkey’s accession seemshard. Rather than a single idea related to the content of communication, perhaps a more plausible unifying idea may be found in the realm of procedure. What emerges starkly from this project and the chapters of this book is that arguments within the EU about Turkey’s accession ought to focus less on why the EU “owes” Turkey membership, why membership would benefit Turkey, as well as why Turkey would benefit the EU in strictly utilitarian terms (e.g., arguments related to economy or geostrategy). It would rather focus more on what Turkey would contribute to Europe in political, cultural and ideational terms, on how Turkey would enrich the European political project, contribute to the process of European construction as well as strengthen the cross-fertilizations in the European cultural mosaic.
This alternative reading of a cost-benefit approach puts a major onus on Turkey itself. Beyond strategizing about communication, what speaks most eloquently of all to EU stakeholders is what actually happens in Turkey itself: its reform process, its political, economic, social and cultural dynamics, as well as its role in the wider world. It is here we find a final dilemma, accurately examined by Esen and Bölükbas¸ı in their contribution. The multifarious yet often negative European debates on Turkey have not gone unnoticed by the multitude of Turkish stakeholders in the EU-Turkey debate. And it is here that the often negative communication stemming from the EU has interlocked with at times passive, at other times defensive, and at other times reactionary or adversarial communications in Turkey itself on the EU question. Hence the slowing down of the reform process. Hence the disillusioned Turkish public opinion. Breaking out of this vicious circle is no small feat. Both sides point the finger to each other: EU stakeholders, including the most committed to the Turkey cause, call for a resumption of Turkey’s reform process. Turkish stakeholders, including the most committed to the EU project, call for fairer treatment of Turkey in the EU. Reality, inevitably, goes both ways. It is only through greater EU efforts in Talking Turkey and dealing with Turkey’s accession process in a more constructive manner, alongside efforts of Turkish stakeholders to swim against the tide and resume the reform process, that renewed virtuous circles can be set in motion in the practical and discursive domains of EUTurkey relations.
Notes
1 See Commission of the European Communities (2004) 2004 Regular Report on Turkey’s progress towards accession, SEC(2004) 1201, Brussels.
2 Interview: Commissioner Wallström on the EU’s communication strategy, 6 April 2005; http://www.euractiv.com/engeneral/interview-commissioner-wallstrom-eu-communicationstrategy/article-137597.
3 Commission of the EC (2001) Communication from the Commission to the Council, European Parliament, Economic and Social Committee, the Committee of the Regions on a new framework for co-operation on activities concerning the information and communication policy of the European Union, COM(2001)354, Brussels.
4 Commission of the EC (2002) Communication from the Commission to the Council, European Parliament, Economic and Social Committee, the Committee of the Regions on a new framework for co-operation on an information and communication strategy for the European Union, COM(2002) 350 final/2, Brussels.
5 Ibid.
6 Van Ham, P. (2005) ‘Opinion Piece Branding European Power’, Place Branding, Vol. 1, p.124; Henry Stewart Publications,http//www.clingendael.nl/publications/2005/20050400_paper_vanham.pdf.
7 Commission of the EC (2002) op. cit. [our italics].
8 See Commission of the EC (2005) Action Plan to Improve Communicating Europe by the Commission, SEC(2005) 985 final, http://ec.europa.eu/dgs/communication/pdf/communication_com_en.pdf; and Commission of the EC (2006) White Paper on a European Communication Policy, COM(2006) 35 final, Brussels, http://eurlex.europa.eu/LexUriServ/LexUriServ.do?uri=COM:2006:0035:FIN:EN:PDF.
9 Commission of the EC (2005) The Commission’s contribution to the period of reflection and beyond: Plan-D for Democracy, Dialogue and Debate, COM(2005) 494 final, Brussels.
10 Platform of European Social NGOs (2006) Communicating: Selling Europe or Opening Europe?, October 5,
http://cms.horus.be/files/99907/MediaArchive/Policies/Participatory_democracy/ENResponse%20White%20Paper%20on%20Communication.pdf.
11 Ibid.
12 Commission of the EC (2002) op. cit.
13 Commission of the EC (2004) Communication from the Commission to the Council, European Parliament, Economic and Social Committee, the Committee of the Regions on implementing the information and communication strategy for the European Union, COM(2004) 196final, Brussels.
14 Commission Delegation to Turkey (2007) Information and Communications Support Programme, http://www.avrupa.info.tr/AB_Mali_Destegi/AB_Program_Bilgileri,Enformasyon_.letisim.html?LanguageID=2.
15 ABIG consists in the Turkish Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Ministry of Culture and Tourism, the Secretariat General for EU Affairs, TOBB, TUSIAD and IKV. See http://www.abig.org.tr/.
16 Ulgen, S (2006) ‘Turkish business and EU accession’, Centre for European Reform http://www.cer.org.uk/pdf/essay_turkish_business_accession_dec06.pdf.
17 Ibid.
18 Ibid.
19 Kinikliog˘lu, S. (2006) ‘Turkey needs to act on a communication strategy now’, Turkish Daily News, 16 November,
http://www.suatkiniklioglu.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=150&Itemid=914.
20 Ibid.
21 Secretariat General for the EU Affairs, EU-Turkey Communication Platform.
22 Dogan, C. (2005) ‘Der lange Weng nach Westen’, Politik & Kommunikation, March, http://www.euractiv.com/29/images/turkey_tcm29-137878.pdf.
23 As noted by Le Gloannec in her chapter, a noteworthy example in this respect is the recent book by Michel Rocard, which, while advocating Turkey’s cause, does not shy away from highlighting the costs and challenges to the EU and the negative sides of Turkey. See Rocard, M. (2008) Oui à la Turquie, Paris, Hachette.
24 In the case of Greece, the “Battle of Vienna Syndrome” does not exist. Negative stereotypes derive from the period of Ottoman rule over the Greek Orthodox population.
25 Commission of the EC (2004) Issues Arising from Turkey’s Membership Perspective, Commission Staff Working Document, SEC(2004) 1202, Brussels, 6 October.
26 As discussed at length in Talking Turkey I, a key question when discussing Turkey’s “impact” is the level at which such impact unfolds (e.g., the impact on the global, EU, national or candidate country levels). See Tocci, N (ed.) (2007) Conditionality, Impact and Prejudice in EUTurkey Relations, IAI Quaderni, English Series, Rome.
27 In the case of the UK however there has been a growing link being drawn by the media between the Turkish-Kurdish Diaspora and organized crime.
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