Kate Skow

The migrant crisis has been a sobering test for Europe as both its solidarity and humanitarianism have been called into question. But what about its identity? This paper proposes a framework on ‘European identity’ that departs from the conventional assumptions about how European identity is constructed through interactions, transactions, and community generations by the density of EU institutions and practices. This framework aligns with the expectations and predictions of social psychology and social identity theory, which predicts that group identification is as much—if not more—driven by these external processes of boundary creations as by any inter-group dynamics. The paper then asks under what conditions migrants from outside Europe become the cultural ‘other’ defining or deepening European citizens’ identification with Europe by their very exclusion? Using empirical data from the British and Maltese press, I look for the degree to which there is evidence for a coherent European identity, based on the sociological construct of collective identity developed in opposition to an ‘other,’ in the rhetoric and framing of migration. With this data, I found that ‘Europeans’ are more likely to identify as such when faced with a non-European ‘other.’ This group membership appears to be creating an impetus for security cooperation because it has recently become more salient in Europeans’ self-identity.

This paper looks at the factors of possible Turkish accession to the EU and specifically, the idea of European identity as an explanation for opposition to this. First, it addresses competing theories of European identity and the formation of identity based on an excluded out­-group. Second, it briefly explains EU enlargement and historical Turkey­-EU relations. Third, it looks at reasons for opposition to Turkey becoming an EU member, with a specific focus on member state Germany; and fourth, it offers a possible explanation for why certain conditions foster certain ‘types’ of opposition, as well as implications for both Turkey and the Union itself.

Under Stalin’s rule, much of the Soviet population was annihilated by its own government. The state’s categorizing of the nation, forced famine in Ukraine, and population purges lead to millions of deaths based on classifications made by the Russian government. If you expand the definition presented in the United Nations Convention on the Punishment and Prevention of the Crime of Genocide, and consider instead the original definition presented by Raphael Lemkin, Stalinist Russia, and specifically the Holodomor in 1932, is genocide.

Both alive and writing during the time of Nero, Petronius and Seneca each help define the era’s signature age of excess. Their biggest characters, Trimalchio and Medea, respectively, are, on the surface, similar in their extravagance and would invite comparisons to the emperor who currently ruled Rome. Yet, while Trimalchio is a wink at his audience and too much of a joke to be human, Medea’s origins in Greek tragedy make her still evoke sympathy from hers. Furthermore, despite seeming like a caricature of her former self, Medea remains a much more powerful figure and complex character than her other exaggerated, Neronian contemporaries, especially Petronius’ Trimalchio.

In The Aeneid, Virgil creates Dido, an amalgamation of literary and historical female characters, queen of future enemy Carthage, and serious threat to the founding of an eventual empire. Before she can prevent Aeneas from fulfilling his divinely sanctioned quest however, her agency is totally stripped away by the power of outside, godly forces. By Book IV, she has devolved into his helpless, dramatic, and deranged girlfriend, a passive female out of control of her own body. Dido is initially introduced as a formidable equal, if not better, of Aeneas; both her resistance to be marginalized as a stereotypical female and the loss of the very agency that differed her from stereotypes make her arc the most complex of Virgil’s entire epic and her eventual suicide the most unsettling yet ultimately satisfying end to her story.

Preemptive war, one that is undertaken because of a perceived offensive, is legal under international law when facing an “imminent threat.” However, the National Security Strategy, published in 2002, pushed the boundaries of what imminent threat meant, and essentially targeted “rogue states” and especially Iraq, Iran, and North Korea–those that President Bush had dubbed the “axis of evil.” The NSS used preemption to justify pursuing these enemies under the guise of stopping terror and invasion, and spreading our American ideals. This strategy of preemptive war cannot be utilized short or long term, and serious problems can be found much later on, as evidenced by the ‘war on terror’ result of the September 11, 2001 attacks and the United States’ decision to invade Iraq in 2003.