European Citizenship in Three Eurocities

Adrian Favell 

Department of Sociology, UCLA
afavell@soc.ucla.edu




Paper for presentation at
European Union Studies Association Conference
March 30th – April 2nd 2005 
Austin, TX





Abstract

Discussions on European citizenship, have tended to be driven by abstract normative concerns, 
and at best ground their arguments at the institutional level of law and policy.  But if European 
citizenship means anything, it should also be reflected sociologically in the choices, experiences 
and behavior of those we might most think of as prototypical European citizens: free moving 
educated and professional workers who have exercised their European citizenship and free 
movement rights to live and work in another member state. I will present findings from an 
empirical study of the mobility and integration of these Eurostars, as I call them, resident 
European nationals living and working as foreigners in three cities: London, Amsterdam and 
Brussels. Notably, their political participation as European citizens in the cities is much less 
significant than their economic participation as consumers and cultural entrepreneurs. I present 
distinctive findings about political participation from the three cities, and offer some reflections 
on what this means for debates about the 'democratic deficit' and the future of the EU.


European Citizenship in Three Eurocities
Adrian Favell, UCLA


Talk of European citizenship often relates the notion to idealistic philosophical notions of 
political participation, rights and democracy, but how is it actually experienced and 
practiced? I discuss here findings related to a study of 'highly Europeanised' European 
citizens, of the kind who might be thought to care most about their putative European 
citizenship. The study builds on a unique data set: on 60 long, in-depth interviews I 
conducted between 2001-2003 with some 'proto-typical' European citizens: 'free 
moving' foreign European nationals, all college educated or equivalent, working in 
middle class professions, and resident in three Eurocities: London, Brussels and 
Amsterdam. It also draws on the Framework V PIONEUR survey currently underway, 
which has interviewed 5000 such European citizens, resident as foreigners in five 
European countries.* The work previewed here will form one chapter in a book on the 
new European mobility, entitled Eurostars and Eurocities: Free Moving Urban 
Professionals in an Integrating Europe (forthcoming Blackwell 2006).   


EU freedom of movement and EU citizenship

Freedom of movement is at the core of the European integration process. That is, freedom 
of movement of capital, goods, services and persons. The legal development of the 
European Union has in fact been mostly driven by this core idea, and the breaking down 
of national barriers to movement of all kinds across the European continent. Pause for a 
moment, and it is not hard to see that the last of these clauses – freedom of movement of 
persons – is perhaps the EU's single greatest achievement, after the securing of peace and 
prosperity in post 2nd world war Europe. Why? John Torpey's marvellous study, The 
Invention of the Passport, takes us through the ending of the free moving nineteenth 
century Europe with the emergence of the twentieth century pastoral state. In this crucial 
nation-building epoch, state monopoly over the freedom to live, trade and move across 
borders, constituted and solidified the territorial nation-state, that is embodied in modern 
regimes of citizenship and welfare. Territorial sovereignty is seen most visibly in the 
erection of state borders to control, prevent and regulate all movements across them. 
European integration has thus inexorably changed all this. That the EU has over decades 
worked to dismantle this core aspect of the modern nation-state within the European 
continent, is a genuinely post-national achievement that should not be underestimated. 
Compare the experience of crossing by road, train or air the now empty customs posts 
across all of Western Europe – in which grass now grows over buildings once marked out 
with barbed wire, fences and road barriers – with the experience of any US airport, or any 
entry port between Mexico and Canada into the 'free market' USA. This is a unique 
achievement of European Union.

The EU promotes freedom of movement of persons as central to its mission of a 
economically dynamic, knowledge-driven European economy. The movement of 
educated, middle class people is particularly encouraged as a fast route to European 
integration from below. The student mobility programs, Erasmus/Socrates, are but the 
most visible aspects of this effort. Behind this, lies the familiar economic argument about 
European integration: that mobile labor will adjust for asymmetric shocks and/or spurts 
within the European economy, encouraging the brightest and the best to move to the most 
obvious loci of economic opportunity. Thousands of young Europeans have taken up this 
opportunity, and can be found living and working in the main urban hubs of the 
continent, of which three cities perhaps stands out as the most international (in different 
ways): London, Brussels and Amsterdam.

One of the key rights that EU free movers enjoy is the right to vote in both local and 
European elections in their chosen country of residence. This is indeed one of the most 
obvious, political dimensions of the notion of European citizenship, that the EU 
institutions have been keen to encourage since the early 1990s. Beyond this, European 
citizenship is a small but growing body of supplementary rights that EU nationals with 
full national membership of one EU member state enjoy when they travel or reside 
abroad in the EU. 

There has been a huge literature on European citizenship, driven by lawyers and political 
theorists. On the whole, this has sought to argue for a progressive, democratising notion 
of European citizenship, that builds on certain normative ideas of citizenship and 
democracy anchored in historical national experiences (references: Meehan, Weiler, 
Bellamy, Kostakopoulou, Shaw, Habermas, Ferry, Kastoryano). Some see European 
citizenship as a protean version of post-national democracy. All share an idealist vision 
that is not much linked to the actual practice of European citizenship as a lived set of 
rights and opportunities (one partial exception is Antje Wiener's book, which focuses on 
more 'everyday' citizenship practices, like border crossings, shopping, tourism etc). As 
theorists and legal commentators, none really present any empirical substantiations about 
the practice of European citizenship from below. Yet as philosophers, many bemoan the 
actual state of affairs in the light of their ideals, pointing to the limitations of European 
citizenship as further proof of the European Union's 'democratic deficit'. 

The European institutions themselves are wracked with anxiety about this deficit: there is 
a huge production of information, websites, phone hotlines, and so on, aimed at 
combatting a popular feeling that is widely seen as the EU's achilles heel. And 
Eurosceptics warm to the theme of democracy at peril in the bureaucracy and distant 
legal regimes of Brussels and Luxembourg. Come June 2004, and a dismal turnout out at 
the European elections seemed to offer further proof of the lack of legitimacy of 
Eurodreams. Against this backdrop, it is reasonable to expect that those people who 
might be considered the most 'highly Europeanised citizens'of the EU ought to be a 
crucial test case for the realities and possibilities of European citizenship beyond the 
nation-state.


Political participation in three Eurocities

So what of the Eurostars? Have they been exercising their European citizenship, as surely 
they must, in voting and electoral participation?

The general evidence for their participation has always suggested it is low. Two broad 
quantitative studies, a cross-national study by the French political sociologist, Sylvie 
Strudel, and a study over time of EU citizens participation in Brussels by Hassan 
Bousetta and Marc Swyngedouw, both discovered surprisingly low rates of participation 
among a population who would have thought to be prototypically 'Europeanised' in their 
attitudes. 

My own research has been qualitative: asking individual citizens about their awareness 
and motivations to participate in local elections, and exercise their voting rights. On the 
face of it, as residents, some of them long term, it would seem likely that they would be 
motivated to vote on local issues that do materially affect them, whether it is local issues 
of quality of life, traffic, environment, development, street cleaning, cycle lanes, or 
whatever. But is this the case?

Don't worry about the government

These sixty or so individuals are highly international, cosmopolitan and often very pro-
European, and distinctly urban professionals. A large majority of them are strongly 
involved in the social, cultural and economic life of their chosen city of residence. Many 
of them strongly self-identify as 'Londoners', 'Bruxellois' or 'Brusselaars', or 
'Amsterdammers'. What is noticeable, however, across all the cities, is how this 
involvement almost never translates into political participation. The EU studies literature 
on European citizenship indeed is way off beam in its hopes that this might be an 
effective route towards Europeanisation and a more democratic Europe. Nicole, a young 
French woman in London, when asked about this, shrugged in a way typical of nearly all 
interviewees—who would otherwise be classified among some of the most politically and 
culturally aware members of the European population, as well as those most likely to care 
about European citizenship.

"I don't have the energy. I didn't ever vote [as a European citizen]. I didn't know anything about 
it. I didn't receive any information, and I didn't look for it. I was expecting information but I was 
lazy. I read the papers, follow the news and everything, but I'm much more interested in French 
politics, and I have voted in France. I think if I had a family here, I would. But I know that I'm not 
going to stay here for 20 years."

Some interviewees are even surprised by the question. For example, Federico, an Italian 
who has been living and working in the Netherlands for several years.

"No, I'm still Italian. I don't have any rights to vote here. I'm registered, but I cannot vote for 
political elections… Voting in the city? Let me think…. I received a couple of times the invitation, 
I never did it. It's nice, the idea. I could do that, but for one reason or another I just skip it. I'm 
very bad at that! I'm living as if this was part of Italy." 

Another voice, this time a young Spanish Londoner:

"No. But I paid attention and got all the papers. I didn't understand very well how to vote or what 
the system is, so I didn't vote. I wouldn't mind voting for the European elections… There's a 
really big gap between the EU, between the actual normal people and the European stuff. You see 
that as really miles away. I was just going to do it because I'm very interested in Europe. Europe 
as a whole. I just thought it would be nice to participate, but I haven't done it really."

Clearly, conceptually, these mobile Europeans see themselves as fundamentally 
politically linked to where they come from, or to a broader European entity, even if most 
other aspects of their lives are in the foreign city. This signals a different kind of spatial 
awareness, a way of living that is not the conventionally nationalised one, of the native 
resident at home – rather than apathy or apolitical attitudes. 

In conversation with Jean, a French broker, he points to issues he feels are important at 
the local level, why local participation still makes no sense, and how France remains his 
main political reference point.

Adrian: "Have you voted in Britain?" 
Jean: "You can vote?"
Adrian: "Yes, as residents. Are there things that get you worked up, frustrated? That would push 
you to do something?"
Jean: "Living here, what is really a pain, is all this traffic. And all these planes…  In Paris we 
don't have all these planes on top of the city. It's really too much… We have no great confidence 
in local government. It's more like, do you know someone who can help me with this?"
Adrian: "Do you follow French politics?"
Jean: (as if this is stupid question) "Yes!… I'm still interested in that. I'm not going to vote here… 
I read a French newspaper… Of course, I'm more interested in that."

It is not just a question of temporary attachment. Dieter is one of the most perplexing 
cases. He is a successful young architect, with an internationally renowned Dutch office. 
He has been living outside of Germany for nearly all his adult life. Highly integrated in 
Amsterdam life, a house owner with an Australian wife and child who speaks Dutch, he 
is very motivated in getting involved in all aspects of local urban life, and talks 
animatedly about local schools, his neighborhood, city housing policies, and urban 
planning. He is a committed Amsterdammer in so many ways, yet  it turns out he sees his 
political commitment totally in Germany!

Dieter: "Of course, we read the newspapers, but then politics is also a very tricky thing. It's hard 
to follow if you are not already really in the system for years. 
Adrian: "Did you vote in any local election?"
Dieter: "No. [European elections?] No, also not yet. I'm still a registered voter in Germany. It's 
easier for me to know what is going on there."
Adrian: "Is it still relevant for you there?"
Dieter: "Well, for the European parliament, or German government elections, yeah, I think so. 
Every vote counts." 

This pattern is common, even for the most politically engaged and aware. Siain, in 
Brussels, is Irish, an a quite committed trades unionist, working for the international 
association. I ask him if he voted in the local elections in Brussels.

"No. We were a bit guilty. I thought, especially working where I do, I shall have to remain 
anonymous. Yeah, I would be interested [in participating]. I read quite a bit about it when I saw 
some expats were standing in some areas, and the resistance to it… (laughs) I'm on dodgy grounds 
here. You know, theorising about it in the pub, but then not doing anything about it." 

Of course, a few are the prototypical 'barbarians': international free movers, only 
concerned with escaping the binds or obligations of any nation-state, with only apathy 
and cynicism about politics. For instance, Pablo and Bianca, a Portuguese-Italian couple, 
now homeowners and working in Brussels.

Adrian: "Did you vote? Register?"
Pablo: "No. No interest"
Bianca: "No interest."
Pablo: "…Neither in politics in general, neither on a personal level."
Adrian: "You knew you had rights."
Pablo: "Yes, we saw the stuff, we talked about this with friends…"
Adrian: "Well, I'm still looking for someone who did vote (in Brussels)…"
(Big laughs) 
Bianca: "Well, you are going to be looking for a long time!!"
Adrian: "University researchers love talking about 'European citizenship'…"
(More laughs)
Pablo: For me, personally… I don't believe in politics at all. I've never voted in my life, and I'm 
not going to begin now."

Eurocity1: London

Of course, this general picture needs qualifying across the three cities. A minority of 
interviewees had exercised their political rights as European citizens, and there were 
some interesting differences between the modalities of politics in each of the three cities, 
that led to different types and likelihood of participation.

Of the three cities, post-national non-participation was at its highest in arguably the 
world's most 'global city', London. The scale and free market driven individualism of 
London perhaps accounts for the far less present involvement of local government issues 
in the details of everyday life. The one or two people that did vote, did so less out of 
political commitment, more out of sense of curiosity.

Rainer is a very successful mid-career manager with a large MNC. He and his family live 
in suburban London, and he was not going to miss the chance to vote.

"Yes. I attended nearly all elections. Local, European parliament. I am also registered for 
Germany, but also the local community here. I voted for everything except for the prime minister. 
Having rights, I enjoyed that. I like to see the candidate at the doorstep. You never see that in 
Germany! I talked with them, it's good fun. I think they were a little bit turned off by my accent!"

When they did vote, some interviewees were not even sure which election they voted in. 
Valerie is a thirty year old French broker, working in the City.

"When I was in Bayswater I voted, and I was amazed by the way that it was done with a pencil, 
and putting a cross (laughs). I don't think they even verified my identity. It was quite strange 
compared to what I'm used to… Local elections, they were. I don't know what it was for in the 
end. They trust you, its something that's part of the English character. There's no way you could 
do that in France!… It was an interesting experience the vote."

I also uncovered one or two cases of Britain's famously loose electoral registration 
practices, actual leading to national election voting cards being sent out to foreign 
residents. This perhaps wasn't what the architects of European citizenship had in mind. In 
conversation with an older Spanish couple, who had been living in England three or four 
years.

Adrian: "Did you vote as European citizens?"
Raoul: "For the local council, not the European.."
Susana: "No no! It was for the general election… I did!" 
Raoul: "Voting here is a folklore kind of exercise. We didn't know much about it." 
Susana: "I wanted to see what it was like, so I voted. It was not for the local election, it was for the 
general election. That's something that shocked me. In Spain, when you vote, they check your 
identity card, and then you get a tick, and you have voted and you cannot vote again. I went to the 
police station with a letter sent by them (voting registration card) with my name and address. As 
they don't have id here, they asked me, 'Are you Susana Hernandez?', and I said, 'Yes.' 'OK, you 
can vote..' It could have been my neighbour, or my mother (laughs)."

Anton, a young German, resident, did vote, but again with a rather voyeuristic motive.

"Yes, I voted, local elections, once for the European… almost all I could. Actually, I'd never 
voted in my life, so maybe I just wanted to try it (laughs). Maybe this is one of the reasons. There 
were no campaigns, but getting a vote was pretty unavoidable. Once a year the council asks for a 
list [of voters in the household]. You fill in the list and you are automatically on the register, and 
they send you polling cards. The only way you could not be on it, is to be the kind of person who 
throws away the post without reading it, or someone who cant be bothered to fill in forms… Now 
that I'm working, I have to pay council tax. I have very general ideas about democracy – that its 
important to participate and so on – but to be honest, I'm not very interested in local borough 
elections. I don't think it affects much. I would be a lot more interested in the national elections… 
The fact that anybody can turn up to vote, it's all a complete mess. I even know Japanese people 
who voted simply because the council didn't get it right with the nationalities. Basically, if you 
find someone's poll card you can just go there. They never look for a photograph, or other form of 
id."

But in the end, Anton too admits that what really counts for him is German politics.

"I do follow political developments in Germany. I would know exactly which party to vote for. I 
tend to still find I follow much much more the politics in Germany than here. I'm more bothered 
about everything. The unemployment rate in Germany bothers me more than here. This [feeling] is 
something that doesn't change, even after these years."

Eurocity2: Brussels 

Brussels should be the crucial test case. Voting is at the very local commune level, and 
European citizens number more than 20% in some communes. In theory, then, they could 
make a big local impact on precariously poised Flemish-Walloon relations in the city. 
Also, Brussels is a leader in multicultural participation after the big local successes of 
Moroccan, Turkish and African representation in recent city elections. But EU citizen 
participation is, it turns out, the dog that doesn't bark in Brussels. This is despite the 
efforts of the Belgian political parties, as well as local communes and the region, to 
mobilise them. One exception was the success of the Flemish green party to target and 
mobilise Euro voters in the Brussels City commune, which apparently led to a small scale 
electoral success, and their elected representative Bruno de Witte, going on to become 
alderman. Another, has been the rise to prominence in Etterbeek of the vocal pro-cycling 
activist, Rik Jellema, a Dutchman who works as a translator in the Commission and made 
some effort to contact fellow foreign European residents.
 
Again, awareness, some interest, and a lot of 'theoretical' embarassment is the main 
pattern. The fact that they are obviously not motivated enough in order to vote, suggests 
that something at least is missing from the usual democratic notions. Hartmut, a IT 
software entrepreneur, explained his reasons, and his alternate ways of getting involved 
in public life.

"I think it was a mistake [not voting]. I think I should have done it, but in fact I'm not registered 
[as living] here. I'm registered in Germany. My wife could [she is from southern Europe, and 
works at the Commission]. I will recommend to my wife in the next election to go and vote. It's a 
right but also an obligation. But we were not really following the issues in Schaarbeek. I even 
don't know what the issues are. I did notice that shortly before the election they started to renovate 
the neighborhood, that's an old trick, 'Hey, look what we've done', and that's it for another four 
years. My experience, having being involved in the parents' association at school (the 
International School in Brussels), is that you cannot only complain. You have to make your 
contribution to it. You have to get more active. And doing something, sometimes with very little 
things you can do a lot. Sometimes you just have to get your act together, and do something like 
get some signatures, and say, 'We want trees in the street!'. And from the commune, you might 
get them. If you don't ask, you don't get it."

Joost, a Dutch journalist, very much wanted to participate in the election, but couldn't 
because it turned out he had to organise a traditional 'bull frog' party that day back with 
old friends in Den Haag. He had grown up partly in Brussels, so was very much at home 
working for an international organisation in the city. He was highly motivated to vote – 
but on the Flemish side. He was one of many Dutch, German, Nordic and English 
speakers who belied the common perception that foreign European residents 
automatically side with the French speakers in the city (in total much more than the 15% 
it would take to affect the current balance). In fact, he was infuriated that in Ukkle, he 
was automatically assigned to the French speaking political lists, as a European resident, 
even though he was Dutch. He was also annoyed that parties had complete access to 
foreigner status list and addresses, which meant he had been the target of some 
campaigning. In the end, it was the rigidity of the Belgian system of voting that put him 
off. Not being sure if he could be physically present on the day (as is required), and 
knowing that there are fines for not voting in Belgium, he was one of the 90% or so 
European residents who didn't register.

Janet, a long term English resident, who works for an MNC, found out the hard way, the 
costs of being a committed 'European citizen' and actually registering.

"I got my fingers burned last September, when I enrolled to vote in the European elections. I've 
been living here for five years, I thought, 'I should exercise my right to vote'. I've been paying 
taxes very high here – although you shouldn't necessarily link taxes and voting together – so I 
registered before July 31, and because I was in the right age group, I got called in to do voting 
duty. If you are between 30 and 32, you are the age group they ask, you are the most intelligent or 
most flexible, or whatever. I got two days notice. I have to turn up in Kraainem (a controversial 
commune à facilités), and sit the whole day from 7.30am to 4.30am, ticking off names on a list! I 
was very very pissed off. If I didn't do it, I'd get a 600 Euros fine, according to the leaflet I got. 
All the Belgians get around it. They say, 'Oh, my 83 year old granny is coming', or 'I've got an 
airline ticket'. My Belgian boss said to me, 'Oh, you should have said to me, we could have sent 
you off on business somewhere'. But I was too honest, played it by the rules… I asked a few 
people my age group, 'Hold on, why aren't you doing this duty?' They were visiting their granny 
and so on, but they still managed to vote! It was very frustrating, it really put me off Belgian 
politics. There's no way I'm getting involved again, forget it. The weather was awful, but they 
gave me free cakes, I had a bit of a laugh. [Because of the rules], I had to speak and write for the 
people in Flemish, which I don't speak! 'Goede daag, meeneer, kommen binnen' (in a terrible 
Dutch accent). They are looking at me, and they are like, 'What was that!?'" 

Again, despite being politically aware, even idealistic, Janet found that European 
citizenship didn't mean much to her. I asked if there were issues that mobilised her.

'Not really. I wouldn't know how to get involved. To me, it's a minefield. The parties are not 
appealing. I voted for Agalev, the year before. I voted for a guy because he was called Costello, 
like 'Elvis Costello'. He was with Agalev or the Green party, I can't remember. I thought, 'That 
sounds like a nice name'." 

Much of the problem in Belgium comes down to the fact that the internal Belgian 
political struggles don't mean a lot to foreign European residents, and don't represent 
issues close to their interests or ideas. One of the most settled and engaged long term 
residents I meet in Brussels is Dario, a successful architect in the city. Again, he responds 
by affirming that it is Italy – a country he has not lived in for over 10 years – where he 
feels politically rooted.

"I'm an Italian citizen, I vote in Italy. I didn't vote in the commune, but I pay a lot of attention to 
politics, in Italy, here, and abroad. I read two newspapers every day, Le monde diplomatique, the 
internet. I try to be very informed, and try to read things that I don't understand, like economics 
news."

Dario in fact feels alienated by the shape and terms of politics in Belgium. It is not at all 
that he lacks political interest or opinions. But the cleavages that appeal to his political 
sensitivities are found better in his native country.

"I don't see here in Belgium real labour or progressive attitudes in politics. You can have parties 
like the Greens, with their social attitude, but when they talk about the territory [national issues] 
they are more conservative than the fascists in the 20s. They have a reactionary attitude on what 
I'm concerned of, my job [architecture]. The French have a very good expression: 'n'importe 
quoi!'. I don't find ideas that go with mine. I don't feel represented here in Belgium. A lot of the 
time when I discuss with Belgians, politics, they think that it's really a cultural difference. They 
turn it always by saying, that [I think the way I do] because I am Italian, that it's normal that I 
react this way. This is stupid. It's not because I am Italian! It's because I have an idea of the things 
[in architecture] different from them."

When the most engaged foreign residents still feel this way about the local political 
scene, it is perhaps not so surprising that they choose not to participate directly in party 
politics in their adopted city.

Eurocity3: Amsterdam
 
Political participation poses the same kind of obstacles in Amsterdam, where like in 
Belgium a bewildering array of parties, with often minor or very specific ideological 
differences, cluster around the voters' choices. Of the three cities, Amsterdam is by far 
and away the most difficult to settle in and integrate in the long run as a foreigner.  
However, among the minority of people who had managed to integrate effectively in the 
city, there was a more overt commitment to political participation, particularly in the 
many local ballot initiatives that are raised for dealing with local issues—referenda on 
public transport (the north-south underground line), new urban developments (building in 
the Ijmeer), or city environment issues. 

As in London or Brussels, the shape of national Dutch politics does not appeal. One 
English resident, Jonathan, a successful businessman in the courier business, expresses 
the usual jaded feeling with normal politics—which, in fact, expresses the same 
sentiments that lie behind much of the Dutch electorate turning to new alternatives, such 
as the Lijst Pim Fortuyn, in recent years.

"[on voting] Uh huh… not that I know anything about it. I talk about it with my girlfriend, she 
takes a look, and says, 'He's OK', and we vote for him! No real issues. I have been watching the 
British elections recently, and the one thing you realise about politicians is it doesn't really matter, 
because they don't do what they are saying they are going to do anyway. It's why I don't get 
involved at all. I think it's the same here with the Dutch government. There's so many parties that 
they can't organise it that one party has a majority, so they spend so much time talking about 
things. That's why it takes so long to get anything done. There's only marginal differences 
between the parties, trading off one thing for another. It's just ridiculous when you see some of the 
things they come up with." 

However, participation begins to make much more sense when it is framed in terms of 
common urbanistic interests that are not defined by the typical national party political 
cleavages. Paul is English, speaks perfect Dutch, has lived in the Netherlands for all his 
working life, and is a very successful management consultant in an international firm. He 
is still wary of being thought of as naturalised Dutch, but he is 100% a committed 
Amsterdammer.

"As far as [national Dutch] politics is concerned, I don't follow it, I don't have any emotional 
involvement in it. Also I don't have a vote, even though I've lived here for 14 years. But I do vote 
in local elections. I am motivated in local issues that affect me personally, for example, boats 
going up and down in front on this canal, or when the house across here was squatted and it took 
months and months for the police to do anything about it. Those sort of things, literally in your 
own back yard. Things like that can get me really motivated… In this building, we talked to each 
other [about the squat]. I really had an incredible sense of injustice about that, and got really 
pissed off … Because of that we talked to local politicians, and I talked to someone I knew on 
local television, and pulled out all the stops we could to get them out."

In a sense, this is really what local citizenship is all about: not ideology, not party 
politics, but local conflicts over everyday living. Paul's apparent NIMBYism here in fact, 
is indicative of a very high degree of commitment to his locality, which includes a 
famous gay street, that was why the main reason he and his partner bought a house in that 
neighborhood.

"In one of the last referendum, should the center of Amsterdam be a separately controlled area—
we voted for that. Things like whether or not they build on the edge of Amsterdam, I'm not so 
interested. There is a street we go to near here with bars [??], and there is an issue about whether 
or not it should be pedestrians only. I've seen car drivers drive along it very aggressively, even 
though people spill out onto the roads from cafes. One of the political parties was canvassing for 
that [the pedestrian street] in the gay bars, and I voted for that party. Again it's things which affect 
my quality of life which I am interested in. If you look at national politics, like the health service, 
for some reason that doesn't seem to bother me what they do. Education—I wasn't ever educated 
here, and I won't ever have children, so again I don't feel bothered by that."

Paul essentially left Britain because of the Thatcher years, and the homophobic 
atmosphere he felt during the height of the AIDS scare. For him, Amsterdam is home, 
and uniquely welcoming to his lifestyle. Yet Britain still retains more political emotion 
for him.

"Yeah, I do care. I don't vote in Britain either, but I do follow British politics. I follow that on a 
daily basis and often get emotionally involved in it."

Other long term residents echo his terms of local participation. Sylvie is a research 
scientist, who lives and works further out in the Amsterdam Randstad, near Utrecht.

"Yes, I voted last year. I'm not allowed to vote in the national election. It was about Utrecht 
merging with other villages. It was a special local election. I think it's a chance you have to be 
allowed to participate. In the first place, in local elections there are issues concerning the corner of 
your own street, it's normal to. Is it the same issues as Dutch people? I guess so, I don't know. I 
didn't have any special issues concerning [being] foreigners. I don't feel really like I'm being 
expatriated or whatever."

One significant difference in the Netherlands is that long term non-European resident 
foreigners can also often get a vote at local level. Local politics then generally has more 
meaning for foreigners—of all kinds. Robert is also French, and is actively involved as a 
gay activist and as a campaigner for immigrant rights.

"Yes, I voted twice. I'm very happy to be able to vote. I'm thinking of getting Dutch nationality 
[because of politics]. If I didn't get involved so much now, it's mostly because of lack of faith in 
my own language. I'm not able to express myself properly in Dutch on a political level. It's a very 
abstract way of expressing stuff. In English I could, French definitely. I don't trust my Dutch 
enough. That's what stopped me from getting involved in Dutch politics, because I would love to. 
But I like it [the political scene here]. Just with the nature of the system you have a chance to have 
input. It's not just two parties with a monopoly." 


Impacts of European mobility

Is the weak evidence of political participation among the Eurostars all just more grounds 
for Eurogloom?

No. Politics is about ultimately 'social power' (in Michael Mann's sense of the word), not 
just voting. In terms of their actual 'fields' of influence in their chosen cities, and the de 
facto modes of participation in which European citizens engage with the foreign countries 
they live in, there are many grounds for thinking that the practical exercising of everyday 
European citizenship rights – outside of voting and party politics – is indeed legitimising 
the 'post-national' European project: driven by their fulfillment of the notion of freedom 
of movement, and their non-political party focused urban participation.

It is perhaps too early to fully see the impact of new European mobility among the 
younger adult European population, including the dramatically successful schemes of 
student mobility. For many younger Europeans, this mobility does lead to the emergence 
of a more Europeanised consciousness, although this does not necessarily translate into 
feelings of primary 'European identity', as rather clumsily measured by Eurobarometer 
type studies. Erasmus students in fact often return home with a heightened sense of 
national identity and culture. However the experience does cement a notion of the now 
naturally European scale of career/life trajectories for many. Particularly from southern 
Europe and Ireland, young educated migrants are exploiting career building opportunities 
in the north-west of Europe in unprecedented numbers. 

Amsterdam is a wildly attractive hub, but as mentioned before, very few European stay 
there – and official numbers of resident foreign Europeans remain low, because of 
turnover, rather than flow. Numbers are much greater in London, perhaps the most 
dramatic hub of European mobility, as the perceived gateway to global culture. The new 
wave of young Europeans in London – most notably the large numbers that have seen the 
city become allegedly the fourth largest French city in the world – have had a profound 
Europeanising effect on the economy of the city, and the embedding of London in routine 
European social structures (see Favell 2005)**. This is an invasion far more profound in 
its effects that the tabloid induced hysteria about asylum seekers and East European 
Roma, yet nobody seems to have noticed the 'invisible' yet ever-present young 
Europeans you see everywhere working in sandwich shops, cafes, bars, trains and budget 
airlines. Ask Mayor Ken Livingstone's demographic officers about this significant 
population in their midst, and they simply don't have a clue.

Such Europeans get lost in the big picture of London, and one might question at all the 
'political' significance of their participation. Brussels scores low on political 
participation, but viewed in other terms, it is much easier to see the direct material impact 
of European foreign residents on the city than in either of the other two cities. They have 
largely spurred the economic and cultural revival of Brussels in the last 20 years, notably 
inspiring dissident Belgian cultural activists, from both Walloon and Flemish cultures, to 
re-invest in the city as an international third space, that escapes the nationalist, zero-sum 
logic of Belgian politics. The gentrification of several multicultural Brussels 
neighborhoods has been the other profound effect. Foreign residents have invested in the 
empty spaces (notably the many abandoned town-houses) of a deindustrialising national 
capital, and turned them into new highly Europeanised spaces in which an everyday life 
largely beyond the nation-state is easily possible. Brussels is an exception in this sense 
because of its historical location at the intersection of major European cultures, and its 
international institutions, and its dramatically federalised structures (all the way down to 
commune level). All facilitate a distinct de-nationalised life, that is still not fully possible 
in other international cities, where the nation-state weighs more heavily (in London, 
Paris, or Amsterdam). Its economic peculiarities may be ending too: rising house prices, 
and the overflow of new European residents from new member states, are pushing the 
housing market towards the price range of other major cities, and leading to more anti-
European sentiment among Belgians.


Beyond models of participatory democracy?

The actual modes of participation of European citizens in these three cities should lead us 
to doubt the 'party political' fixation about representation and the democratic deficit. The 
kinds of rights embodied in European citizenship are much better translated into the 
actions of consumers, tourists, and cross-border workers, than into crosses in ballot 
boxes. National politicians disgraced themselves in June 2004 by hardly talking about 
Europe or the EU (and what it actually does) in the European elections, but rather turning 
it all once again into a plebiscite about nationally specific issues, and nationally specific 
political cleavages. Now they are playing cavalier nationalist games with the European 
constitution and its ratification, in attempts to hijack European policy issues by putting 
them at the mercy of Eurosceptic national voters. 

The other sector of society across Europe, outside of party politics, that is most blind to 
social phenomena beyond the nation-state is, of course, the national popular media. It is 
no surprise then that national populations can see very little that is going on beyond 
national society, when the nation-state is all that their politicians and their media talk 
about. What gets pointed to as 'democratic deficit', then, is largely a relic of the highly 
nationalised European past. The biggest threat to Europe is the bankruptcy of European 
national politics, and the increasing equation of 'democracy' with popular mass 
plebiscites (such as referenda, and US presidential style elections). Look again at the face 
of such 'democracy', and we might conclude that these forms of participation are more 
appropriate to the authoritarian politics of the European past, than the multi-levelled, 
multi-scalar governance that might (still) be Europe's future.      

* See our website: www.obets.ua.sp. Results and analysis will be published shortly.
** Further papers from this project can be found at my UCLA website via:
http://www.soc.ucla.edu/faculty.php

References

TO BE ADDED


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