The Politics of Order-Building in Europe and the Mediterranean

 

 

 

 

 

Dr. Dimitris K. Xenakis*

Defence Analysis Institute

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Defence Analysis Institute

 

September 2003

 

 

 

 

 

Contents

 

 

Chapter I  3

Comparative Investigation  3

 

1.1 About the Study: Why and How   6

1.2 Uses of Comparison and Analogical Reasoning  10

 

 

Chapter II 

The Helsinki Process and the Transformation of Europe  14

 

2.1 Europe and the Cold War System   16

2.2 Détente and the Genesis of the CSCE   18

2.3 The Helsinki Final Act 22

2.4 From Détente to Annus Mirabilis: 1975-1989  27

2.5 Europe Post-Cold War  34

2.6 Transformation Within: From Regime to Organisation: 1990-1995  38

2.7 Functions, Structures and Mechanisms  46

2.8 Understanding the Helsinki Paradigm   49

 

 

Chapter III 

The Barcelona Process and the Transformation of the Mediterranean  54

 

3.1 Euro-Mediterranean Systemic Properties  54

3.2 (Mis)perceptions, Islamophobia and the Arab Journey to Modernity  58

3.3 Towards a Comprehensive Security Agenda  64

3.4 The Mediterranean Between and Within Europe and the US  70

3.5 The Barcelona Declaration and the Euro-Mediterranean Partnership  76

3.6 The Evolution of the Barcelona Process  89

3.7 September 11th and the Mediterranean Dimension of ESDP  97

3.8 Overall Evaluation of the Barcelona Project 102

3.9 Conceptualising the Euro-Mediterranean Regime  105

 

 

Chapter IV  

Comparative Investigation and Lessons Learned  110

 

4.1 Comparing ‘Apples with Oranges’ 110

4.2 Multilateral Arrangements and Conditionality  113

4.3 The Politics of Order-Building  116

4.4 Lessons Learned  121

4.5 The Normative Question  128

 

 

 

Chapter I

Comparative Investigation

 

This study explores two distinct international political phenomena from a comparative perspective: the Conference (and then Organisation) on Security and Co-operation in Europe (C/OSCE) as a system-transforming mechanism for the promotion of peaceful change, and the Euro-Mediterranean Partnership (EMP) as an emerging international regime. It claims that important lessons can be drawn from the comparative study of the evolutionary character of these akin, yet not identical, international processes. In particular, the institutional machinery embedded in the case of the Helsinki Process emanates, inter alia, as a useful paradigm for large-scale regime-formation and regime-maintenance, the pursuit of détente among distinct culturally defined and politically organised units, as well as the construction of a ‘cognitive region’ based on a viable multilateralism. Such international processes raise questions about systemic complexity and order-building, international governance and regime-formation, institutional sophistication and policy effectiveness, and finally implementation and compliance. Therefore, the perspective adopted in this study aims not only at mapping down the expectations of the currently fledging Barcelona Process, but also, to provide a set of policy orientations regarding the prospects for creating adequate institutional structures to manage security and interdependence between the European Union (EU) and its EMP partners.

The study explores various areas of international relations in both pre- and post-1989 Europe and the Mediterranean, including the catalytic effect of September 11th 2001 in our perceptions of security. The still dominant International Relations paradigm, developed and refined during the Cold War, understandably emphasised continuity. But this was as much (if not more) a product of the perceptions of what was considered important (high politics) than it was an ‘objective’ view of ‘reality’. The new era has highlighted the need for a new approach that takes dynamic change seriously. The momentous upheaval has spurred renewed interest in comparative international politics as scholars turn to the past for paradigms, insights and categories of analysis to get our bearings in a present that is in flux. These premises are best summed up by King, Keohane and Verba, who argue that we can learn a lot if we could rerun history with everything constant, save for an ‘investigator-controlled explanatory variable’.[1] This perspective posits that the best way to understand international relations is to create linear models, something that also falls within the multiple aims of this comparative study.

Institutionalists of all kinds seem to agree that goal-attainment is affected by the organisational and institutional context within which international actors operate. ‘Institutions contain some sort of governmental DNA and tend to transmit that genetic code to the individuals who take up roles within them’.[2] Although it is true that opinions differ on the extent to which institutions reformulate preferences and interests,[3] what the proposed comparison needs is a research design to ‘force analysts to distil out of this diversity a set of common elements that prove to have great explanatory power’.[4] The organisation of this investigation revolves around the following aims: to examine the systemic complexity of the emerging Euro-Mediterranean order in relation to pre- and post-Cold War European international politics; to conceptualise the EMP in the light of the Helsinki experience; and to explore the benefits of a macroscopic comparative analysis in transformative orders.

The study has been organised along the following lines. The first Chapter is dedicated in the justification of the comparative investigation both in terms of methodology (general level) and in terms of the comparability of the two international processes under scrutiny. Chapter 2 offers a historical overview of the genesis of the CSCE, its process-driven nature, and its distinctive contribution to détente during the Cold War. In this context, the analysis of the European order in relation to the systemic complexity of the Cold War era aims at gaining analytic purchase on the role of the CSCE in meeting the challenges of a fragmented international order. It offers both a broad and precise analysis of what constituted a milestone in East-West politics at the time, namely the Helsinki Final Act and its assorted baskets. The Act also contained a very significant follow-up procedure designed to address problems of continuity in inter-block communication, whilst bestowing to the whole exercise a ‘sense of process’, particularly evident in the way in which analysts have used the term ‘Helsinki Process’ interchangeably with the entire CSCE. The analysis of its evolution from 1975 to the 1989 annus mirabilis aims to explain not only the ‘long peace in Europe’, but also to tackle issues of order and change: how we moved from the bipolar system of the Cold War to a new international system characterised by increased interdependence, higher levels of co-operation, far more sophisticated networks of interaction (involving both state and non-state actors), but also more complicated and uncertain security politics of the post September 11th era..

But the passing from one era to the other did not represent the oft-quoted thesis of the ‘end of history’ and with it the end of security anxiety in Europe. The inherent and ever-growing complexity of the post-1989 order is of profound importance in understanding the rationale that lies behind the transformation of the CSCE to an international organisation under the background of seismic changes. This transformation constituted a response to specific problems in the new European order after the fall of the Berlin Wall and the demand for re-integrating Europe. It is through these analytical lenses that a better conceptualisation of the ‘new’ Helsinki can be reached. Added to that, the analysis of the OSCE’s institutionalisation offers a more sophisticated understanding of its transformation from ‘regime’ to ‘organisation’. This chapter concludes with the conceptualisation of the Helsinki paradigm, something particularly important in terms of analogical reasoning as applied to the EMP.

To gain any valuable insights in contemporary Euro-Mediterranean politics, one has first to understand the complexity of this volatile regional order. Chapter 3 aims at no less. Such a demanding task provides a comprehensive mapping of the Mediterranean, which is taken as a regional space, where geography, history, and politics intermesh with culture and religion with enormous complexity, resulting in a composite system of partial regimes, each reflecting a particular sense of being and belonging. This chapter also examines the patterns of Euro-Mediterranean relations since the signing of the Barcelona Declaration. The nature and the level of regional interdependence and the role that previous Mediterranean approaches of the EU have come to play in the area provide the analytical framework for placing the current state of play in context. The study claims that the EMP represents a ‘breaking with the past’, makes the case for a focused analysis of its basket-based arrangements, and offers an overall account of the project. By employing the uses of ‘process-phased analysis’ in the light of the Helsinki Process, a first evaluation of the project-dynamics is attempted, arguing that it is yet to deliver the expected order-building outcomes. This is due to a variety of reasons, and most notably due to the lack of institutional support, making arduous and erratic the transition of the regional partnership from an ‘association of states’ to a full-blown ‘international regime’.

The final chapter focuses on the comparative insights, by addressing the differences and similarities in the patterns of systemic complexity and order-building of the two international processes. It concludes with the lessons that the Helsinki experience generates for the transformation of the Mediterranean, determining the extent to which the insights drawn from the Helsinki Paradigm are applicable in seeking solutions to the varied challenges that the process of organising the emerging Euro-Mediterranean system is expected to encounter.

 

1.1 About the Study: Why and How

‘Like in Europe we need a sort of CSCE process for the world [...] with three negotiation baskets: security in the region; human rights and religious tolerance; redistribution of wealth between states and within states’. This statement made by Sheik Ahmed S. Yamani in 1991 relates to an evolving debate among scholars and policy-makers on the systematisation of Euro-Mediterranean politics that involves solving collective-action problems, operating international regimes, satisfying conditions of stability, managing complex interdependence, governing transnational networks, and striking a balance between order and change. Most important here is the extent to which a sharing of experience on the development of an international cooperative culture (regime) can be accumulated from the long journey of the Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe (CSCE) to act as a ‘learning process’.

Analogical reasoning permits the transfer of such assumptions and postulates from a well-known phenomenon to a less familiar one and provides the necessary cognitive resources for developing a working conception of new issues and questions.[5] This assumption allows us extend similarity so that information from the familiar domain (Helsinki) can be used to fill gaps in information about the less familiar one (Barcelona). Such reasoning improves our comprehension of the Euro-Mediterranean order in two ways. First, it explains the development of the actors’ consensus in defining the Mediterranean as a common area rather than one subject to national claims. Second, it illuminates certain facets of the evolution of the Barcelona Process (BP) by mapping its institutional dynamics. Elements of this experience provide the intellectual capital needed to meet the challenges that the Euro-Mediterranean system faces in its formative years.

According to Novick, analogical reasoning proceeds in four steps: representation (preliminary characterisation), retrieval (useful analogies), mapping (matching features), and adaptation (model modification).[6] Successful reasoning by analogy rests on the premise that the two knowledge domains are significantly similar and can be treated as results of the same causal process.[7] It takes no specialist in international relations to reach the conclusion that the CSCE project and the Euro-Mediterranean Partnership (EMP) share some common characteristics. The structural affinity between the 1995 Barcelona Declaration and the model developed by the 1975 Helsinki Final Act (HFA) is based on the incorporation of three distinct yet related dimensions (or baskets) of international cooperation. But this prima facie structural resemblance needs a methodological justification so as to utilise the analytical insights offered by analogical reasoning. The procedural modalities embedded in both international processes aim at breaking down systemic complexity. The latter has added to the already burdened past of the CSCE - i.e., inter-block antagonism and discontinuous communication - and, in the case of the Mediterranean, to North-South socio-economic disparities and political/institutional asymmetries. Thus, if the normative implications of these projects are seen as compatible to each other, at least with reference to the emergence of new patterns of co-operation, then the model of interdependent basket-based arrangements is a means of overcoming potentially significant obstacles to regime-formation: the process of developing ‘social institutions that consist of agreed upon principles, norms, rules, decision-making procedures and programs that govern the interaction of actors in specific issue areas’.[8] International regimes are multilateral enterprises (composed of state and non-state actors) based on the functional, structural and behavioural properties of international co-operation.

       Today, scholars perceive a world of complexity and dynamism that was largely masked during the apparent stability of the Cold War. In some interpretations, ‘complexity’ is merely used to describe things that are complicated and not well understood.[9] But a comparative investigation along the lines suggested here is also a means of transcending questions of complexity that are easily discernible at both the systemic level and the units of analysis themselves. This line of inquiry may well lead to an approximation of reality - or indeed a ‘hierarchy of realities’[10] - within pre-existing images of internatioonal organisation and, in the case of the newly-born Mediterranean project, institutionalised governance. Analogical reasoning helps the analyst to familiarise with and simplify an otherwise nebulous image of large-scale regime-formation, thus yielding a deeper understanding of the ontological nature of the nascent Euro-Mediterranean regime and its attempts to manage uneasy interdependencies.

International analysis has shown how analogical reasoning helps leaders and diplomats understand the particular situations they face at any time; evaluate the material and moral impact of possible actions. In practical terms, policy-makers themselves will ultimately decide whether or not the Helsinki experience is applicable to be used in the construction of the Euro-Mediterranean space. Although it may seem rather naive to simply transfer the practises of Cold War Europe to the present Mediterranean reality, Mediterranean policy-makers should take a fresh look at the CSCE to see what light a comparative study might throw on the emerging Euro-Mediterranean order. By using the more familiar as a representational base for the less familiar, we acquire a hypothesis to be tested.[11] We can best reach this through the transfer of ideas from one unit of analysis to the other, which in our case are the transformation of the Helsinki Process (HP) into a more congruent organisational structure, and the patterns of institutionalisation among the Euro-Mediterranean partners. In the latter case, the emphasis is on the limits and possibilities of existing regional arrangements to structure relations among interdependent political entities so that an international co-operative culture is embedded in their multifaceted exchanges. ‘Co-operative culture’ should not to be confused with a certain type of diplomatic accommodation based on quid pro quo practices of interstate bargaining. The latter refers to a loose form of association where the defence of each particular interest rests on the relative strength of the actors involved, rather than a set of principles, norms and rules stemming from participation in an international forum that guides political behaviour.

Already in 1975, the HFA contained a special section dedicated to ‘Questions relating to Security and Co-operation in the Mediterranean’ and linked the process of security-building with the so-called ‘non-participating Mediterranean States’. But the East-West divide proved impossible to incorporate south Mediterranean security in the scope of the largely north-European CSCE project, although the region has long been regarded as an area where Western powers had vital security interests.[12] As a result, the achievements recorded in pan-European security-building were not reflected in the Mediterranean space, despite the fact that periodic meetings of experts did take place within the CSCE framework in the fields of economics, science, culture, and the environment.[13] But ‘[t]he Helsinki tradition to tackle security problems in a more formal rather than substantive manner helped to transform the dialogue for security in the Mediterranean to an insubstantial one’.[14] However, Fenech is right to claim that [I]f the protagonists of the CSCE then objected to extend the scope of the Conference because their chief concern was to bridge the east-west division of Europe, the same reason cannot apply today [where] ... there are clear signs that Europe is taking very seriously the implications to its own security of problems that could emanate from the Mediterranean’.[15]

Attempting to draw insights from the Helsinki experience is not a radically new attempt. Post-Cold War, the conception of a CSCE-like framework was born to cover the entire Mediterranean complex. After the collapse of the ‘Five plus Five’ initiative, the Spanish and Italian governments presented to the CSCE meeting in Palma de Mallorca (1990) a proposal for the creation of a new sub-CSCE forum, the so-called Conference on Security and Co-operation in the Mediterranean (CSCM).[16] Such project, however, did not gain much success, not least due to its limited membership. Moreover, the crisis in Yugoslavia and the incapacity of the CSCE to resolve it was a serious handicap for launching the CSCM. Munuera and Wrede regard the CSCM as an international forum capable of coping with a broad range of pressing issues,[17] a view that reflects a renewed interest in a CSCM-like project following the signing of the Barcelona Declaration in November 1995. But what this study claims as new is that the HP itself helps in the development of a model that provides an analytical platform from which pertinent ideas can be drawn for practical methods of co-operation in the Euro-Mediterranean space. This is further justified with reference to the Cairo (1995) and Tel Aviv (1996) seminars held by the Organisation on Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) on the applicability of previous Confidence-Building Measures (CBMs) to the Mediterranean.

With regards to the different contexts of each case study, attention is paid to the motives underlying these processes, the actors involved, the implications stemming from the implementation of agreed principles, and the emergence of norms of behaviour. But to appreciate the nature and dynamics of the Helsinki model in conjunction with the evolutionary character of the EMP and its international regime aspects, a ‘phased process analysis’ is employed. Different phases of the HP correspond to different frameworks for international co-operation, namely ‘international regime’ (CSCE) and ‘international organisation’ (OSCE). The model is then expanded to include the ‘turning points’, major decisional outputs, negotiated compromises, and system-steering events that enabled the transition from one phase to the other. In short, despite the fact that both projects were initiated to manage different forms and levels of interdependence, the parallel analysis of their systemic complexities and regime dynamics emanates as a useful analytic prism to ascertain the elements of compatibility or, conversely, institutional and policy differentiation.

 

1.2 Uses of Comparison and Analogical Reasoning

It is widely acknowledged in the acquis académique that any comparative analysis is dependent on the selection of the case-studies, which, in turn, rely on the justificatory logic of the research design itself. Out of several methods and possibilities of selection, mainly two research designs maximise the uses of comparison. These are the ‘most different’ and the ‘most similar’ systems designs. International experience shows that the majority of comparativists have opted for the ‘most similar’ systems designs when selecting on the ‘dependent variable’ - i.e., what it is to be explained, or indeed what lessons are to be drawn and learned from the comparative exercise. What is equally crucial for the ‘quality’ of the envisaged research product is that the choice of designs, and for that matter of the cases themselves, should not be based on the principle of convenience and/or familiarity with specific case studies, but rather should be the outcome of a well-thought-out process of selection in relation to the nature of the type of comparative results to be sought.[18] But let us add that inherent to the comparative method is a ‘trade off’ between similarity and differentiation. Whatever the case may be, one can legitimately claim that comparative analysis may be significantly strengthened by the interaction of the aforementioned research styles: as in different approaches to social scientific research, so in the case of comparative analysis, the ‘best possible outcome’ depends on the striking of a delicate balance between equally important variables.

When conducting comparative research we are advised to find cases that are as similar as possible, and then find a crucial difference to set the limits of comparison. To borrow from Harris, those who study comparative politics ‘should endeavour as far as possible to compare similar units and entities ... We should not compare apples with oranges just because are both fruits, but apples of one sort with apples of another sort’.[19] The question that follows concerns the comparability of the applied research areas as represented in the selected international processes or, in Teune’s terms, the ‘equivalence across systems’ for the purposes of construct validity and measurement.[20] The components and properties of the systems compared should ideally be the same or at least indicate some equivalence to avoid the danger of engaging in allegedly creative comparisons that nevertheless are meaningless due to their initial lack of equivalence. Sartori defines a related methodological issue as the ‘travelling problem’,[21] arising arises in cross-national/cross-systemic comparisons, when concepts ‘travel a very long distance’.[22] This points to the different uses and diverse traditions of language, conceptual history, and concept-building, and the various ways of interpreting concepts that are central to the research but account for different ‘structures of meaning’ resting on different normative qualities, modes of conceptualisation, and means of determining our perceptions of reality.

In comparative research, once it is established that comparisons are valid, the researcher has to decide whether to avoid pitfalls and proceed cautiously to formulate ‘laws’, ‘tendencies’, or ‘predictions’. But first, one has to ask how is it possible to measure the degree and validity of comparability, especially when the research at hand claims to represent an comparative exercise in the politics of regional complexity and order-building? Should the comparative exposition of these phenomena involve a time-series analysis, a phased-process one, or one based on clearly designated institutional parameters? To provide an answer, it is important to note that a number of reasons point both to the significance and feasibility of the proposed comparative investigation. An appropriate point of departure is the question of time and, in particular, (a)synchronic analogical reasoning. One way to apply this type of reasoning is to address the question of ‘time’ in a creative manner and draw upon past experiences that can be taken, ceteris paribus, as functional analogies of more contemporary developments. This is especially true for studying international processes as these evolve through different phases that are not dissimilar to those that other processes have previously undergone. We explain: the OSCE is a firmly enough established regional organisation that has evolved through a series of phases. It started as an international conference that approximated the image of an international diplomacy forum, it then turned into an international regime through the development of specific normative commitments and institutional mechanisms, and since 1992 it became a regional organisation ‘proper’ under Chapter VIII of the UN Charter possessing some operational capabilities of its own. On the other hand, it is only recently that a certain degree of systematisation of Euro-Mediterranean relations became manifest. Such a qualitative change in what used to be a series of uncoordinated bilateral arrangements (and then of a largely ad hoc nature) was brought about with the Barcelona Declaration. The latter provided the long awaited platform for the emergence of a multilateral policy framework, with weak but promising institutional features. Theoretically speaking, the EMP can be conceived of as being more than a mere ‘association of states’ as conventionally understood.[23] The principal reason for this progressive assertion is that certain international regime aspects are evident in its structures like the development of norms of good governance and the institutionalisation of mechanisms for collective action. All the above provide for the mapping of the expectations raised in Barcelona, as well as for the prevalence of a new regional order.

The degree of comparability of the two projects is even higher in the post-Cold War era: it was then that the CSCE transformed itself into an international organisation, while the EMP and the premium it places on comprehensive security could not have been realised under the bipolar configuration of the international system. In addition, in both processes, their structural resemblance - i.e., their basket-based architectural design, process-driven nature, and low levels of institutionalisation during their early stages - is linked to the principle of conditionality. In the case of the CSCE, conditionality formally entered into play by linking the importance of human rights to acceptance of the post-Yalta territorial status quo. In the case of the EMP, conditionality takes the form of a ‘trade off’ between financial/technical assistance (as opposed to the less rewarding strategy of development aid) and an ethics of liberalisation based on socio-economic restructuring and, where possible, reconstruction.

Here, an important qualification is in order: the human dimension of the HP was seen by the Western coalition as a useful diplomatic weapon for the gradual erosion of the Soviet-dominating communist regimes, by introducing a system of international controls over human rights issues; on the other hand, the aim of the BP is to establish concrete avenues of communication among distinct historically constituted, culturally defined, socially constructed, and politically organised states and societies based on mutually rewarding outcomes. Put differently, it is not based on a crude Westernisation project along the lines of a neo-colonialist policy aiming at the erosion, if not collapse, of existing South Mediterranean regimes although, as the study will try to illustrate, the distribution of such benefits is not as equitable as Europeans would have us believe. From a process-phased analytic prism - itself part of a wider methodology of crross-time comparisons[24]- this is an important qualification for it points to a differentiation of the motives and expectations that navigate the choices of the actors. At a more general level, the purpose of comparative analysis is to verify propositions and identify differences with the intention to demonstrate, where applicable, similarity and consistency. Post-1989, the aforementioned qualification became redundant due to the collapse of communism in Central and Eastern Europe, the disintegration of the Soviet monolith, and America’s indisputable dominium mundis. The methodological implications stemming from the above observation is that the study of institutionalisation in transformative regional orders assumes greater significance in both explaining and understanding the changing patterns of international order-building.

As with most political science research, international comparative politics is also driven by ‘real-world events’. These events spark our imagination and help relate present-day reality to past experience. Likewise, rethinking the past in light of the present is a productive way of searching for important and intriguing questions. Most comparativists tend to treat theories, approaches, and methods as tools to frame and explain empirical puzzles. This spirit is best captured by Przeworski’s characterisation of his scholarly style as ‘opportunist’, and in Katzenstein’s suggestion that his research is mainly stimulated by the ‘dependent variable’.[25] Indeed, what remains universal in the study of comparative politics, as it does for all good social science research, is a conscious attempt to explain the ‘dependent variable’, which in our case is the dynamics of Euro-Mediterranean relations, and ‘prove’ the connection between the case studies involved, which in the context of this study is to pursue the previous task in the light of the Helsinki experience. Such an endeavour is further justified when taking into account an explicit recognition by the architects of the Barcelona project of the validity of the Helsinki model in the construction of a meaningful Euro-Mediterranean partnership.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter II

The Helsinki Process and the Transformation of Europe

A good point of departure for the analysis of the CSCE is the 1st of August 1975, when the US, Canada and most European states signed the HFA. The latter was not an international treaty but a politically binding agreement that became the constitution of the follow-up review conferences for the implementation of its agreed commitments. Even today, such commitments remain an important yardstick for defining the parameters of how states behave towards their citizens and towards other states. The HFA is the embodiment of a common political-ethical philosophy and of standards of behaviour adopted by the participating states, namely, an international regime. Cold War experience has shown that its’ non-legally binding provisions were an important advantage, allowing for progressive improvements, without these having to be ratified. The respect shown by the actors involved to CSCE commitments were hardly different from their attitude towards legally binding treaties or conventions.

At a glance, the CSCE was a unique ensemble of interlinked regimes, whose aim was to focus on universal respect for human rights, economic co-operation, environmental concerns, and the free flow of people and information within a multilaterally controlled and transparent international setting. It served as a forum of equal partners, offering the opportunity to articulate their concerns and increase their awareness about the (substantive) interests of their partners. Above all, it served as a means of facilitating inter-block communication in a period of exceeding tension. In fact, it was assigned the task of making dialogue possible between the two confronting alignments when East-West relations seemed to have reached a dead end. The Helsinki principles have significantly contributed to both the relaxation and ending of the bipolar confrontation by providing impetus for ideological-democratic reform.

The entire CSCE project was part and a parcel of détente,[26] as it was initiated at the peak of superpower politics to overcome the systemic complexity of a highly fragmented European international system, composed of the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) and the Warsaw Treaty Organisation (WTO). But in times of mounting tension, the new international forum emerged as the first significant step towards the realisation of a higher task: the search for stability and co-operation in a Continent that had become the ideological battleground of two major power coalitions. The CSCE acted as a learning process; its ultimate goal being Europe’s emancipation from the legacy of the Cold War. It is important to recall that the international headlines pre-1975 described East-West co-operation as practically non-existent, with fast-growing military potentials creating a unique ‘war of nerves’. Individuals were prevented from travelling and exchanging ideas, while economic exchanges had frozen, not only due to the non-compatibility of the capitalist and communist worlds, but also because of the political implications of such transactions.[27] An ‘Iron Curtain’, to borrow from Churchill’s 1946 Fulton speech,[28] had covered the area ‘from Stettin in the Baltic to Trieste in the Adriatic’, making any form of pan-European co-operation impossible.

Both détente and the creation of the CSCE rested upon different normative orders for the two opposing blocks. Post-war Europe offered Moscow an opportunity to consolidate its territorial gains and acquire the role of an Ordnungsmacht (order-keeper), with the Red Army seeking to fill a ‘power vacuum’ in Central and Eastern Europe. For the WTO  (especially the former Soviet Union), the CSCE was a substitute for a post-war peace treaty to legitimise the new status quo of a geographically divided Germany and an ideologically divided Europe. The respective western conception can be epitomised as a macro-process towards the gradual reduction of tensions, leading to a regularisation of East-West politics, at both interstate and popular levels. According to Kissinger, the Helsinki provisions would create ‘an international standard that would inhibit Soviet repression of dissidents and revolutionaries’.[29] In short, for the West, the launching of the CSCE represented the creation of a freer international environment, calculated to weaken and, if possibly, erode the communist system as human rights issues were seen as a more effective means of exerting pressure than military threat.

Contrary to what its title suggests, Mastny writes, the CSCE ‘has proved to be more about politics rather than a collective security arrangement’.[30] Distinct from the assorted arms-control negotiations that were at the top of the international agenda, the CSCE primarily concerned itself with the ‘soft’ aspects of security, bearing on the interactions as opposed to the capabilities of the potential combatants. The introduction of a ‘human dimension’ to the HP gave the latter ‘a civic dynamism of its own’,[31] but it was the linkages among its respective ‘baskets’ that made it a unique international setting. Also, a primitive version of conditionality applied: agreement in one basket-area depended upon agreement in others. No one during those days could have foreseen that such an ambitious exercise in multilateral diplomacy would survive the Cold War, especially when it came to the implementation of Helsinki’s constitutive principles. But the very essence of the Cold War proved to be the diversity of the arenas of struggle and an accelerating rate of technological change.[32] A synergy of competitive pressures across spectrum of national activities allowed the advantages of a free market society to come into full effect and ultimately overwhelm the less capable, centrally controlled polities. The entire Cold War came to an abrupt and unforeseen end as a result of an internal reformation inaugurated by Soviet Premier Gorbachev. His intention may have been to create a stronger, more efficient communist state capable of waging this new form of warfare, but reform led not only to the collapse of the Soviet imperium, but also to the destruction of the communist alliance and with it of the Cold War system itself.

 

2.1 Europe and the Cold War System

The European Cold War Order is the story of half a century of Soviet-American conflict. Its causes have been a subject of controversy between the adversaries, and so has the underlying nature of their relations. Some, like Churchill, saw it as a familiar contest in geopolitics. On that model, the East-West camps constituted the superpowers’ ‘spheres of influence’. To others, in the US, and at the rhetorical level in the Soviet Union, the contrast was an ideological one between two incompatible orders.[33] From the enunciation of the Truman Doctrine, the US offered its support to those who wished to resist Communism irrespective, in theory at least, of their place in the geopolitical chessboard. Such an approach made compromise unlikely and ensured that resolution of the conflict would require not the making of deals, but the collapse of one of the rival political systems.[34]

The Cold War was also a struggle between conflicting universal values. In the West, the concepts of market economy and multi-party democracy were cherished as necessities. In the East, single party statism and a command economy were highly valued. The obvious conflict of ideas and obstinate nature of their adherents were the driving force behind the Cold War. Orwell often wrote about governments oppressing their people through psychology.[35] The one concept that kept his imaginary citizens dedicated to their government was nationalism, in that it allows people to unite behind a common cause and identify an enemy. But unification breeds security and a desire to take risks. The formation of an enemy gives that group of people something to act against. But an ever-present enemy gives citizens a scapegoat to blame for the ills of the nation, caused by the nation itself. McCarthyism is a good case in point.[36] Insecurities can be blamed on ‘Communist subversion’ without any evidence, because mob mentality allows for injustices.[37] From this perspective, it is surprising that the Cold War did not lead to an overly aggressive action, as the possibility of an unprovoked first strike was always present. But what prevented such a strike was the certainty of a counter-attack. Mutually Assured Destruction (appropriately know as MAD) was the philosophy that both East and West had the power to destroy each other completely. The invention of Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles was the beginning of MAD theory, based on three ideas: both have enough weapons do destroy the other, both can detect a first strike before it arrives, and both are able to respond adequately before they are hit first.[38]

The Cold War gave new meaning to ‘war’. It defined a state of hostility between two alliances, with mutually exclusive objectives, which did not manifest itself either wholly, or principally, through direct military ‘combats’. Instead, the conflict was fought across the broadest spectrum of human endeavour. Yet, competition was no less lethal because of its reduced military character. Individuals, nations, and lifestyles perished as a result of the struggle. The Cold War had proven to be a real, but different, expression of total war. In previous wars, the economic, material, and political strengths of a nation had been injected into the military industrial complex and transformed into conventional military power in the form of navies, armies, and later air forces. Military operations and strategies were predominant to the conduct of war. Conflicts were less than total in their range and intensity. In comparison to the course of the interwar years, the period after 1945 was one of considerable stability in Europe and ‘direct collisions’ between the superpowers few.[39] As time passed, stability was given various institutional forms of confidence building.

The Cold War was complex, multifaceted, and had no equivalent: the international system had become polarised; a playing field in a struggle that brought people together like never before, thus strengthening their identity. As Agnew and Corbige explain, the Cold War ‘became a system of power relations and ideological representations in which each “side” defined itself relative to the other’.[40] The bipolar system exhibited four defining characteristics: the hegemonic role of the two superpowers in the European international system; the two opposing alliances, each based on different socio-economic structures: NATO and the EC, under the ‘benign hegemony’[41] of the US, and the Warsaw Pact, under the more constricting domination of the Soviet Union; the emergence of a small but distinct group of NNA states that played a significant role in the HP; and the threat of a nuclear holocaust. With the dawning of the nuclear age, traditional calculations concerning the rationality of using military force to achieve desired political ends became redundant and, in the words of Hyde-Price, ‘ironically brought an element of stability to the east-west conflict in Europe’.[42]

DePorte has argued that, however undesirable morally and politically, the Cold War system met the functional needs of the European state system itself.[43] An object rather than a participant in the Cold War, Western Europe derived the greatest possible benefits from East-West antagonism. While the eastern half of the continent suffered the constraints of dictatorial policy without achieving economic development, its western half experienced the high and sustained economic growth, its security safeguards, and the development of democracy.[44] Other analysts argue that the Cold War brought a degree of stability in Europe because it helped suppress ancient national, ethnic, and religious conflicts, and because it encouraged a process of post-war reconciliation and economic integration. Cox has described the Cold War as a ‘system’ arguing that superpower rivalry was a way of bringing some predictability to an otherwise anarchic system.[45] Yet, with the benefit of hindsight one can see that from the early 1970s until the mid-1980s the foundations of the European system were being ineluctably eroded by powerful subterranean currents, while the stability of that order was overestimated.

 

2.2 Détente and the Genesis of the CSCE

Although Helsinki is considered to be the birthplace of the CSCE, its origins go back to 1954, when Soviet Foreign Minister Molotov proposed a draft for a General European Treaty on collective security, excluding the US and Canada.[46] Later again in 1965 Brezhnev proposed a plan for a pan-European Security Conference with US and Canada having observer status, something that was adopted in the Bucharest Declaration of the WTO in July 1966. The Western alliance immediately rejected such a proposal. By that time, however, a feeling was emerging in both coalitions that a way had to be found for the establishment of a multilateral framework within which, as Rotfeld points out, ‘the principles of conduct in mutual relations among states of different social and political systems...could be hammered out’.[47] But early on at the diplomatic front, the West insisted that there was an intrinsic link between political and military détente as a measure to balance the conventional superiority of the Soviet Union. As the NATO Harmel Report concluded in 1967, military security and a policy of détente were perceived as complementary objectives, reflecting De Gaulle’s famous triad of entente - détente - co-operation, as well as Brandt’s Ostpolitik.[48]

In the age of bipolarity, détente and the creation of the CSCE meant different things to different governments. For the WTO countries, détente was a temporary state of affairs conducive to a relaxation of tensions, despite the persisting arms race and the gradual but irreversible shift in the global correlation of forces in favour of the Soviet Union. A European Security Conference was considered in the East as ‘a medium for healing Europe’s economic division while on the other hand, sealing its political one’.[49] The rationale behind the Eastern proposals for economic co-operation was to slow down the momentum of Western European integration after the 1972 Paris Summit, as the EC embarked on the realisation of a genuine European Union by 1980. The West regarded détente as a lasting condition, promising to enmesh WTO states in a web of economic interdependence that would gradually but irreversibly end the arms race and turn the two blocks from adversaries into partners.[50] Whereas the Soviet Union that emphasised proletarian internationalism approached the CSCE on the basis of a state-centric model, the West emphasised its human dimension, insisting that meaningful security can only be achieved when the barricades to the free flow of people, information and economic co-operation are sharply eliminated.[51] Western proposals aimed at combining a traditional view of security-building with a normative commitment to humanitarian issues that the WTO formally considered to belong to the internal affairs of states.[52] A logical explanation of the Western proposals was that the socialist polities would be liable to public interrogation and openness concerning their human rights record.

On their part, the NNA countries had their own goals and strategies in the CSCE: to participate in the détente process, which was otherwise understood as an East-West development, and to maintain their role in pan-European issues as an intermediary. Under these circumstances, in May 1969, Finland undertook a decisive initiative by distributing a memorandum to ‘all interested countries’, proposing the convening of a preparatory meeting in Helsinki. Both NATO and the WTO responded positively to the Finnish initiative.  The Prague meeting of the East European Foreign Ministers in October 1969 and the North Atlantic Council declaration two months later accepting the invitation, paved the way for the realisation of the long desired Conference. Also, the 1971 Quadripartite Agreement on the status of West Berlin, the ratification of Brandt’s ‘Eastern Treaties’, and the signing of the Basic Treaty with the German Democratic Republic removed any remaining obstacles to the Multilateral Preparatory Talks (MPT). On 22 November 1972, the ambassadors of thirty-five states were gathered in Dipoli, near Helsinki, to participate in the opening stage of the CSCE.[53] The road to a post-war multilateral settlement in Europe was finally open.

After a protracted communiqué dialogue between NATO and the WTO, the Conference was finally launched in 1972 with the first of a series of preparatory meetings known as the ‘Helsinki Consultations’. The participating countries were not concerned so much with resolving differences of substance as with identifying differences and ensuring that these would be properly discussed at the Founding Conference in Helsinki. ‘Moscow sought to employ CSCE as a medium for healing Europe’s economic division while sealing its political one.’[54] For the West, the CSCE represented a dynamic instrument that could challenge Brezhnev’s doctrine of limited sovereignty of the socialist states. Whereas the West placed its emphasis on possible future changes through a code of conduct, the Soviets sought to structure it in a way favourable to their respective conceptions of the past. The outcome was a balanced compromise: the Final Recommendations (FRs) endorsed, inter alia, the principle for the inviolability of frontiers that Moscow overwhelmingly pursued and respect for human rights and fundamental freedoms that the West so adamantly sought to promote.

As regards the rules of procedure, it was agreed that decisions would be taken by consensus, defined as ‘the absence of any objection expressed by a Representative and submitted by him as constituting an obstacle to the taking of the decision in question’ (Recommendation No. 69). The ‘consensus rule’ is more flexible than the ‘unanimity rule’ and could guarantee that decisions taken by such method would be respected by all signatories. A single veto may prove an insuperable obstacle, although no country could claim that it did not support one or another of the declared principles. According to Lehne, the adoption of consensus rule was a somehow predicted development since it best corresponded to the principle of sovereign equality of all the participants (principle I), while it further enhanced the political weight of the Conference’s results.[55] Consensus was also reached on the dates and organisation of the FUM after the successful termination of the multilateral talks. As for the structure of the Conference itself, the participants agreed to the creation of numerous working bodies with the ‘Co-ordinating Committee’ as the central organ. Additional committees were provided that could set up their own working groups. It was also agreed that the Chair would rotate on a daily basis between all delegations. Consequently, the political benefits that a selective chairmanship might offer were deliberately diminished and its function was thus reduced to merely technical responsibilities. Although the CSCE was based on the principles of sovereignty and equality, EC states had indicated early in the negotiations that they would act as a group and be bound collectively by the agreed commitments.[56]

Not all of the CSCE’s innovations could be seen immediately as constructive or productive. But the idea put forward by the Swiss delegation to group together three different but complementary pillars or ‘baskets’ deserves special attention, for they made the CSCE a unique model. A ‘Follow Up’ mechanism was proposed to guarantee the continuity of the CSCE and a thorough implementation and review of agreed upon principles and commitments. Doubtless, this mechanism represented in practical terms the process-driven character of the CSCE: a dynamic element designed to deal with and, if possible, overcome the systemic complexities of the Cold War. The first preparatory stage of the CSCE was terminated when the member Foreign Ministers declared the contents of the Blue Book in Helsinki in July 1973.

Later in Geneva, intense negotiations took place from September 1973 to July 1975 to work out detailed agreements under each of the subject headings approved in Helsinki. The main task was to provide an interpretation of the Blue Book recommendations on a set of internationally agreed principles to govern relations among the participants. This Conference proved arduous enough, lasting almost two years, and illustrating the complexities of consensus-building, despite the constructive mediation of the NNA countries.

Arguably, as in all other major international fora, the emergence of a promising inter-superpower trade-off remained the crucial factor for the successful conclusion of the negotiations. The necessity for such political bargaining mainly centred on Baskets I and III. The West and the NNA countries had gained a fairly creditable proportion of what they wanted in terms of texts and phrases on human rights issues, as the strict interpretation of the first two preparatory meetings had vast significance during the Cold War. Soviets had made it clear that, unless the West adopted the notion of a preamble for Basket I, no progress would be achieved in the human dimension. The rationale behind this view was to safeguard the presence of principles like non-intervention in internal affairs along with respect for others’ rights to determine their laws and regulations in Basket I (especially in the Decalogue). The final agreement took the form of a ‘Neutral Package Deal’ that accommodated both Eastern and Western aspirations. Following Maresca’s argument, just as the balance between the inviolability of frontier and peaceful change constituted the central CSCE territorial compromise, so the complex arrangements on non-intervention and human rights reflected the central political one.[57] Although in both cases the balance was a fine one, in the latter case, the CSCE ‘introduced the dynamic concept that respect for individual rights is a legitimate aspect of interstate relations ... and that discussion of human rights related issues does not constitute a form of intervention in internal affairs’.[58]

 

2.3 The Helsinki Final Act

Ten Presidents, seventeen Prime Ministers, four Communist Party Secretaries, and two Foreign Ministers gathered in Helsinki’s Concert Hall to sign the HFA. The names convey the power and rank of the assembled politicians such as Ford, Schmidt, d’Estaing, Karamanlis, Zhivkov, Ceaucescu, and Tito. Being the founding document of a balanced political transaction, the Act was a mixture of status quo-preserving and dynamic elements. But the incorporation of both preferences also explains why the final provisions were so perplexing.[59]

The HFA codified a political basis for normalising relations in Europe by establishing principles guiding interstate behaviour. Among these principles, respect for human rights and fundamental freedoms was of particular significance, although that was a relatively modest step - possibly even a repetition of existing obligation - since the notion of ‘democracy’ was not to be found in the document, except, ironically, in the name of the German Democratic Republic. But even so, human rights provisions provided a basis for change through issue-linkage - seen as a primitive version of conditionality - affirming that the ‘human dimension’ is essential for the development of friendly relations among the states concerned. Consequently, the HFA gave force to a kind of international political culture consistent with civil society. In doing so, it was the first step of a long and arduous path toward the acknowledgement that human rights and fundamental human freedoms are both central and legitimate global security concerns.

The Act went beyond the traditional military aspects of security (high politics) by incorporating issues of economic development, concerns for the environment, as well as cultural affairs (low politics) into a comprehensive concept of security. It introduced a structural basket-based arrangement, each basket being equally binding. This way the West managed to enact a  ‘soft law’ that put the issue of trade with the Soviet Union and its allies contingent upon their human right practices. In resisting Western pressure for ameliorating such practices, the Soviets signalled that they might make changes if the West treated their economic demands favourably. This suggested that after the first linkage between security and human rights, a second linkage was established, this time between trade and human rights. Above all, the inclusion of the human dimension in the evolving pattern of interstate behaviour provided for some ground of optimism as regards the prospect of movement towards greater opening in relations among European citizens. The HFA should not be seen as a real blueprint with predictable outcomes, but rather as a first step of non-binding undertakings and promises towards international co-operation.[60] The test for the CSCE was yet to come, its success inevitably relying on the extent to which the new forum would be able to transform the East-West conflict, decrease inter-systemic suspicion, and enhance inter-block reciprocity. Moreover, a Chapter on ‘Questions Relating to Security and Co-operation in the Mediterranean’ was included in the Act, mainly thanks to Malta’s insistence. In this framework, the signatories declared their readiness to promote the development of good-neighbourly relations and mutually beneficial co-operation with the ‘non-participating Mediterranean countries’. But let us briefly turn to the main properties of the three baskets.

 

Basket I

The first basket consisted of two main sections. The first established the basic principles for guiding interstate behaviour in conformity with the UN Charter - i.e., the ‘Helsinki Decalogue’. The WTO countries regarded the Decalogue as the most important part of the HFA. Their justification was that the Decalogue represented a prelude to the creation of a Security Conference. In addition, they claimed for this code of contact a quasi-juridical status under international law. The West, however, did not recognise any special standing vis-à-vis the other baskets. Another obvious difference between the two blocks was on the interpretation of the principles that were included. WTO states stressed the importance of those principles that were seen as legalising the post-war borders and the communist regimes in Eastern Europe: inviolability of frontiers, territorial integrity, sovereign equality of participating states, and non-intervention in internal affairs. As for the West, all principles appeared to be having, officially at least, the same weight, although the inclusion of human rights issues was seen as an important achievement.

The second section of Basket I included a document on CBMs and certain aspects of security and disarmament. The aim was to build trust through increased transparency and predictability of military activities,[61] and in particular to reduce the dangers of armed conflict and of misunderstanding or miscalculation of such activities. For the NATO countries, the inclusion of the CBMs represented a significant contribution to the lessening of politico-military tensions in Europe.[62] Moreover, a general and complete disarmament under strict and effective international control was declared as the ultimate objective. It was agreed to establish conventional disarmament negotiations within the framework of the Mutual Balanced Force Reductions (MBFR), which were to be separate from the CSCE but parallel to it. As NATO and the WTO were negotiating, France opted out on the grounds that it would not accept a bloc-to-bloc formula. The sphere of application of MBFR measures was limited to Central Europe and was therefore not identical with the circle of participants, which included not only states whose territory was located in this arms control zone, but also states with military potential deployed there, such as the US, Britain, Canada, and the Soviet Union.[63]

 

Basket II

Basket II formed an area of major interest for the WTO countries, characterised by Edwards as demandeurs,[64] since one of their main purposes was to achieve economic progress. But from NATO’s perspective, Basket II, calling for increased economic, scientific, technological and environmental co-operation, represented a practical application of its members’ pursuit of reduced tensions with the communist states, as co-operation in these fields could well lead to the regularisation of relations and eventually to the breakdown of ideological barriers. The commitment to exchange statistics on trade and economic activity could certainly contribute to bringing WTO members into closer contact with the West and provide the basis for co-operation in a wide range of enterprises. Behind the creation of habits of information exchanges, by establishing regularised economic and scientific relations, there was a clear prospect of a spillover into the political and humanitarian fields. It was extremely important that irrespective of the diversity of their economic and social systems, CSCE states expressed their conviction that co-operation in these fields contributed to European security-building.

As Basket II called for increased co-operation in science, technology, and the environment, the West was looking for improved opportunities for businessmen - including the availability of accommodation, business premises, and communication facilities - and increased availability of commercial and economic information. WTO states could also significantly benefit from this basket, and particularly from gaining access to Western technology and scientific knowledge, as well as to commercial credit and commercial exchanges on advantageous terms. A basic underlying co-operation in this area was that economic co-operation is useful above and beyond the differences in socio-economic systems since it promotes security. Yet, East European expectations to obtain better access to Western markets, finance, and technology were not in fact fulfilled. By comparison with questions of security policy and human rights, the economic area remained very much in the shadows within the CSCE framework. Given the background of the Cold War and the economic backwardness of the Eastern bloc at the time, the West was not really prepared to extend economic co-operation. Were the Western countries to remove quotas and trade restrictions, then the state-running WTO economies would be left with an unfair advantage because of the range of other controls at their disposal. A crucial development here was the endorsement of the need for a freer flow of commercial information. In all other terms, although the economic dimension of the HFA was filled with specific practical proposals, it never turned out to be of greater importance to the more normative aspects of the remaining baskets.

 

Basket III

For any researcher studying the CSCE process, its most striking feature appears to be in the field of human rights, for specific humanitarian and information provisions by far exceeded what had originally expected to be produced by the CSCE. The third basket expressed the conviction that increased cultural and educational exchanges, broader dissemination of information, contacts between people, and the resolution of all humanitarian problems would contribute to the strengthening of peace and understanding among different peoples, as well as to the spiritual enrichment of the human personality without distinction as to race, sex, language or religion. To that end, twenty-five specific principles were set out, focusing on a wide range of subject areas including co-operation and exchanges in cultural issues, freedom of travel, advancement of conditions for tourism, improvement of the circulation of, access to, and exchange of information, and measures for civil society-formation.

The human dimension proved to be the most controversial area for reaching consensus. The debate was mainly over how to reconcile the demands for a freer and more open flow of information between the two poles with non-bargainable national interests, especially those touching upon the sensitive issue of state sovereignty. At the most basic level, the West felt that it would be too vulnerable in domestic criticism if it were to give moral endorsement to the Soviet domination in Central and Eastern Europe without putting a bit for human rights. The HFA defined human rights and fundamental freedoms as being crucial to relations between participating states, at the same level as, for instance, refraining from the threat or use of force. Thus, it offered the West the possibility to address human rights violations in the communist states.[65] This brought the severest confrontation between different concepts of détente, as the Soviet Union only wanted to see brief references to cultural and educational exchanges. While the Western countries were the demandeurs on most third basket provisions, the Eastern bloc resisted agreement every step forward. But Western efforts, aided surprisingly well by the NNA countries, resulted in a rather detailed series of hypothecates which, even if partially implemented, would have dramatic implications on East European politics.

The HFA did not establish any new human rights standards. It mainly reaffirmed provisions laid down in UN Conventions. But the Act represented a landmark, for it made human rights a fundamental and legitimate subject of East-West relations as well as an element of security itself. This aspect is claimed to be the greatest innovation not only of the HFA, but of the whole of the HP: linking human rights with diverse dimensions of (in)security that often impel governments to repress their citizens.[66] Most important, the inclusion of human rights in the evolving pattern of interstate behaviour provided a universal optimism for opening up relations among peoples themselves.[67]

 

Follow Up

The last section of the HFA may have been the shortest but proved the most important in the CSCE’s evolutionary journey. In order to implement the provisions of the Act, the participants decided to introduce a ‘sense of process’ through the FUM. Many ideas were put forward, ranging from preferences for a weak institutional structure to the establishment of a new international organisation. In the end, political pragmatism seems to have had its way for the follow-up mechanism shaped a rather weak structure: CSCE meetings would begin with the Foreign Affairs Ministers discussing the appropriate modalities for the holding of future meetings. All in all, the FUM transformed the HFA into a dynamic political forum, by guaranteeing its continuation and laying the foundations for a thorough implementation and review of its provisions.

 

2.4 From Détente to Annus Mirabilis: 1975-1989

The HP functioned as an open-ended forum for political dialogue until the 1990s surpassingly lacking any concrete institutional structure. But being a stratagem of détente, the evolution of the HP was not linear but had dramatic ups and downs linked to developments in East-West relations. As a result of the latter’s deterioration, the first two FUM fell short of producing any tangible results. But as an order-transforming project with a concrete finalitè politique - a Pan-European ‘security community’[68] - it was not immune to changes in the inteernational scene. Although the challenge of détente in the 1970s was to sustain the nascent CSCE regimes in high politics, trade, and human rights, the initial hopes raised in the process were dashed by the competitive nature of bipolarity. Thus, when the West exposed the Soviet hypocrisy in Belgrade on human rights issues, the process was on the verge of collapse.[69] But western insistence on the Helsinki commitments lent a new credibility to the CSCE, which, by then, and despite the slow pace of change, was contributing to the prevention of confrontational behaviour. By the 1970s, Soviet military expenditure was levelling off and internal problems were mounting, adding to the decline of Soviet ‘hegemony’.

Human rights issues dominated the CSCE agenda in a series of meetings throughout the 1970s and 1980s. At that time, the CSCE had reached a point where it had to pass judgement on its own performance. The talks in Belgrade opened with the West insisting on the implementation of the agreed commitment to further review conferences. On their part, the Soviets, by confronting the claims for human rights abuses, wanted to slither as painlessly as possible over the record of the 1975-77 period, and to focus on proposals for improving relations. Moreover, the Soviet contention on the importance of the Decalogue bears directly on the relationship they proclaimed between the principles of sovereign equality and non-intervention on the one hand, and, on the other, the remaining provisions of the human dimension. Later on, the Soviet Union tried to divert attention from the human dimension with calls for disarmament, conferences on the environment, energy, and transport. By that time, some differences were also reported among the NNA countries themselves, although they shared a rather universal concern that the fabric of détente should not be halted by differences in Basket III. On the whole, they broadly supported the substance of Western positions on most subjects.[70] After two months of intense preparatory intergovernmental negotiations, agreement was finally reached on the review for the implementation of the HFA.

As in Helsinki, the Western proposals in Belgrade stressed the role of individuals in the process of détente, while the communist states stressed its intergovernmental nature. However modest, the final product of the Belgrade meeting stressed the political importance of the CSCE; reaffirmed the commitment of the signatory governments to implement the HFA; and confirmed that the second FUM will take place in Madrid in November 1980. In retrospect, the Belgrade meeting did play an important role in the CSCE process in both procedural and substantive terms: procedurally, by establishing the pattern for the main FUM of Madrid and Vienna; substantially, by turning the debate on the implementation of the HFA into a key element of the Conference, thus introducing the principle of accountability into the CSCE process.[71]  As Lehne put it: ‘from now on, a country that neglected its CSCE obligations would have to expect open, direct and de facto public criticism in front of representatives of thirty-five participating states’.[72]  Although the political cost of non-compliance seemed to have played an important role, ‘Belgrade 77’ revealed that attempts to legitimise interference in the internal affairs of other states and to gain unilateral advantages are methods doomed to failure. The controversy over the final product of Belgrade makes the drafting of a safe conclusion too risky a task. Yet, the ‘Belgrade experiment’ exemplified a plain lesson: that the CSCE process contains an in-built dynamic mechanism for correcting potentially disappointing outcomes. Such new dynamism was anticipated at the next meeting in Madrid.

From November 1980 to September 1983, the Madrid FUM was held under a hostile international climate due to the Soviet invasion to Afghanistan and the upheaval in Poland. Although the medium-range missile crisis, with its peak in 1983-84, almost paralysed political dialogue in Europe, by that time, the CSCE had matured and was able to prevent a return to confrontation as well as to reach agreement on a final document. As in Belgrade, the question that caused most controversy was over the implementation of the human dimension along with the formulation of new proposals. The Belgrade configuration survived in Madrid, with the West, the NNA countries, and several of the East European nations favouring a follow-up process that would ensure an efficient monitoring of new provisions to promote progress in all three baskets of the HFA.[73] Well into the phase of the ‘second Cold War’, CSCE delegations were called to test the ground for new channels of inter-block communication. This task became all the more difficult, due to Moscow’s infamous human rights record, which clearly represented a further disincentive for a productive dialogue. Surprisingly enough, a change in the perception of interest from the Communist states altered the course of the East-West trade off. The Kremlin became interested in a Conference on Disarmament in Europe (CDE), hoping that the new forum would increase the divergences in the security interests of NATO, as well as halt its preparations for the deployment of Intermediate Nuclear Forces in Europe. They also thought that such forum could serve as a secondary level of negotiations in the bilateral US-Soviet arms control negotiations. There was a growing feeling in WTO states that unless NATO’s criteria were met, agreement in the CDE would be impossible.

NATO decided to reactivate the Madrid talks on the condition that Moscow would accept a new set of proposals concerning the human dimension.[74] By February 1983, Moscow had conceded to most Western demands over Basket III issues, raising hopes for the successful evolution of the Conference. The breakthrough came in July 1983 when the Soviets agreed to the convening of a meeting of experts on human contacts after the proposal of Spanish Premier Gonzalez. In September 1983, CSCE participants signed the Concluding Document, bringing the second follow-up meeting to a close. But as Lehne notes, despite the success of the Conference, ‘the shooting down of a South Korean Boeing by a Soviet fighter plane came as a stark reminder of how tense and difficult East-West relations remained’.[75] Overall, Madrid highlighted the importance for the transition of the CSCE from a conference to a process. As the West expressed serious concerns over the deficiencies in implementing the HFA, the final compromise entailed modest improvements in human rights issues in return for Western acceptance of the CDE. The Western aim was to undertake new and effective action to achieve progress in confidence- and security-building, and in giving effect to the duty of states to refrain from the threat or the use of force in their mutual relations. The Madrid FUM entailed a symbolic importance in showing that consensus can be achieved in the CSCE context even when détente had reached its lowest level.[76]

The Stockholm Conference held from January 1984 to September 1986. The conference formed itself into working groups at the end of 1985, which facilitated serious work, and received political impetus from the Geneva Summit meeting between Reagan and Gorbachev.[77] Westernproposals were for practical measures designed to reduce the likelihood of an outbreak of hostilities in Europe by accident, design, or misunderstanding. Western insistence on greater openness and predictability in military activities through concrete CSBMs, along with the WTO’s attitude to interpret Western proposals ‘as efforts to institute legalised espionage’[78] created an ideal climate for time-consuming negotiations. The Soviet Union sought to undermine the Madrid mandate by submitting far-reaching and clearly non-negotiable proposals in an attempt to appeal to European public opinion.[79] The NNA proposals contained a number of specific measures of the kind proposed by the West, but also suggested that limits should be set on certain types of military activity that raised difficult questions of geographical asymmetry and verification.

The final product of Stockholm mainly reflected the Western insistence on practical and verifiable measures. As the CDE entered into its final phase, a change of atmosphere became evident in Stockholm, reflecting Gorbachev’s ‘new thinking’. The 1986 Conference represented a breakthrough in the history of the HP since for the first time the Soviet Union and its allied states were ready to accept on-site military inspections in Europe without the right of refusal.[80] Mistrust and suspicion started to dissipate.[81] Beyond this inspection regime, the East also accepted an ambitious CSBMs package that made all measures obligatory and more stringent as compared to the HFA. Kremlin’s new Westpolitik helped to restore global confidence that the world started to move on a different course. In September 1986 the participants adopted the Concluding Document, which represented the first arms control agreement in the 1980s. New obligations in the field of CSBMs were meant to test the ground for more far-reaching disarmament undertakings. The right of self-defence was also noted. In addition, further paragraphs reaffirmed the significance of human rights issues and the necessity to take action against terrorism in international relations.[82]

The persisting obstacles of East-West relations re-emerged at the Vienna FUM which opened under the shadow of the abortive Reykjavik Summit. This meeting provided the possibility for translating the new policies of Glasnost and Perestroika into concrete progress over the full spectrum of the HP. Thus, in many of the issues of traditional friction in East-West relations, the Soviet Union gradually became more flexible, adding to the general improvement of the international climate. During the meeting many were quite surprised to hear the new Soviet Minister Shevardnadze proposing to hold a Conference on the human dimension in Moscow, a proposal that was considered at the time as a provocation, in view of the Soviet Union’s disappointing human rights record. Much credit should be attributed to Gorbachev who abandoned the bankrupt ‘public diplomacy’ of his predecessors and decided to deal with the Conference’s sensitive issues anew. For him, it represented a unique opportunity for the promotion of his ‘new thinking’. Openness and verification became a Soviet goal too.

In a less ideologically dichotomised setting, the Vienna meeting managed to produce a historic document that scholars often refer to as the ‘Constitution of Europe’ for human rights. But it was not only the end results of these meetings that were important. The final document of the Vienna Conference was of great importance since it secured the monitoring of human rights and a more open exchange of information on related issues. It also established the HDM,[83] as well as a Conference on the human dimension itself. The decision to incorporate into the Concluding Document not only the mandate, but also the organisational and procedural modalities for a number of expert meetings made the Vienna document very complicated. But the assertion of these arrangements made it no longer necessary to convene preparatory meetings for all CSCE conferences.[84] The document also mandated the CDE to continue negotiations on CSBMs, to be held in parallel but independent of the negotiations for the reduction of Conventional Forces in Europe (CFE). This particular formula and the link to the CSCE process assured the viability of the CFE Treaty after the dissolution of the WTO and even after the break up of the Soviet Union.[85]

As the rapid wind of change swept through the Eastern block, new initiatives were tabled to counter the negative impact of accelerating disintegration in the former WTO area.[86] Their aim was linked to the hope of mitigating the material misery in Eastern Europe with a financial transfer from the wider West. Most proposals envisaged an evolutionary approach and a gradual build-up of institutions to manage change and continuity in a nascent order.[87] But this proved more complicated as national ambitions came to the fore regarding the location of the proposed organs. Several meetings were held in Paris, Copenhagen, Bonn, and Moscow, which fine-tuned the human dimension and the monitoring of human rights violations. These meetings were able to build on the spirit of hope for democratic change in the former communist bloc and set the stage for what was anticipated as a new era for Europe. In the 1989 Paris meeting, a lively debate took place on the implementation of the human dimension. Later, the Foreign Ministers agreed to set up a committee to prepare the Paris Summit, known as the PrepCom. In July 1990 three working groups started to negotiate measures to strengthen democracy in Eastern Europe, to continue disarmament negotiations, and to institutionalise the HP.[88] The 1990 Copenhagen meeting achieved far-reaching agreements on human rights, democratic institution-building, and the rule of law. Important formulations were devised for the protection of the basic ethnic, linguistic, cultural, and religious rights of persons belonging to national minorities, and the need for adequate opportunities for instruction in a mother tongue, as well as in the official language(s) of the state.[89]

It was only after the fall of the Berlin Wall that progress was achieved on the ‘economic dimension’. In less than four weeks, in the 1990 Bonn Conference, previously opposing participants had agreed on the relationship between political pluralism and market economies. Among other issues, the Conference reached agreement on freedom of enterprise, the protection of private property, the free flow of trade, capital, investment, and the repatriation of profits. For the first time, all CSCE states recognised the symbiotic relationship between democratic institutions, fundamental rights, civil liberties, and economic and social progress. Agreement on practical measures illustrated a readiness to strengthen economic information channels and networks, to standardise statistical data and account systems, to promote management and expert training, to develop industrial co-operation and to create a competitive business environment. [90] Finally, the 1991 Moscow Conference was held in the wake of the Russian coup. The fact that CSCE states refused to accept the results of the coup played a significant part in aborting it. Not only did the Soviet Union recognise the importance of human issues, but also made laborious efforts to strengthen the human dimension of the HP. As the Moscow document explicitly states: ‘commitments undertaken in the field of the human dimension are matters of direct and legitimate concern to all participating states and do not belong exclusively to the internal affairs of the state concerned’. This is how external involvement in the internal affairs of states became a legitimate action in defence of human rights and fundamental freedoms.

 

2.5 Europe Post-Cold War

Since the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, Europe has been transformed and redefined.[91] It is no longer under the threat of mutual nuclear destruction, no longer in fear that every crisis might escalate into a wider East-West conflict. Germany has been reunited and the Russia that emerged from the ruins of the Soviet Union in 1991 is an entirely new polity with a new foreign policy agenda.[92] The so-called Pax Sovieticus in Central and Eastern Europe had finally disintegrated, and with it the Warsaw Pact, putting a formal end to the Cold War. But the end of the Cold War, proved to be neither the ‘end of history’ nor the end of Europe’s security anxieties. An increased perception of insecurity stemmed from the collapse of the ‘deterrence regime’ that had provided stability in the system. The new era was also marked by a dramatic shift in Soviet strategic perceptions, an attempt by Western powers to exploit the military and strategic advantage following the Soviet retrenchment, and the absence of a major international war to act as a catalyst for change.

The politics of nationalism, separatism and secession challenged the new international order, while the new European order was already in the process of forming its own rules, norms and patterns of engagement.[93] The redefinition of the European order is still incomplete. As Mayall and Miall have pointed, ‘the phase of deconstruction has probably not yet ended’.[94] Europe post-1989 is shaped by a multitude of often competing forces: integration and disintegration, internationalisation and re-nationalisation, balance of power and struggle for power. The collapse of the communist block has given way to the disintegration of multinational states, a painful process of transition to liberal democracy and market economy, and the resurgence of the suicidal effects of (ethnic) nationalism. The post-1989 explosion of political liberty in Central and Eastern Europe has inflicted upon this transformative European order signs of regional turbulence. Although no immediate military threat currently exists, new risks and challenges have emerged. These include historically based mistrust and friction among ethnic groups, aggressive nationalism, proliferation of biological weapons and weapons of mass destruction, social disruption in light of radical economic reforms, illegal immigration, drug-trafficking, organised crime, and environmental and ecological threats. An indication of the many uncertainties embedded in the new European security system is also the relative increase in the defence spending of so-called ‘rival states’,[95] coupled with the continuing tension arising from Islamic-inspired and Muslim state-sponsored terrorism towards the Western powers, and particularly the US. Given the fact that ‘Islamic fundamentalism’ is also directed against moderate regimes in North Africa and the Middle East, should the besieged Turkish, Egyptian, and Algerian governments succumb to radical Islamic movements, then Europe’s southern flank would be in fragile hands. All the above are major challenges confronting the internal and external security of Europe.[96]

More than twenty years ago, Hassner tried to assess the possibilities for Europe beyond the Cold War and concluded that security integration would be imperative in the absence of superpower hegemony. He explained: ‘Some multilateral framework, some collective arrangement committing stronger states to the protection and restraint of smaller ones must be an essential part of any European system’.[97] But the new order, he warned, must evolve in living history, from the security requirements of the new political order, rather than by conscious and manipulative design; only failure awaits ‘a rational, intellectual or mechanical and deliberate construction as opposed to a natural, organic or historical product with all its confusions and hazards’.[98] This point is equally valid today. As Heisbourg points out, ‘we must beware of spending too much time quarrelling about European security architectures, for however important they may be for the long term, the qualities which we will need in the next few months or years will be those of the navigator, not the architect: adaptability and mobility combined with a sense of direction’.[99] All European security organisations have responded to the new challenges, engaging themselves in a great deal of rethinking.[100] This is especially true of NATO, and the Western European Union (WEU), but even more so of the OSCE, for it transformed itself from a periodic East-West dialogue into an international organization.

The first phase of the 1990s were a period of idealism in which the newly independent states appealed to the UN and OSCE with every minor complaint, much as they had turned to the Central Committee of the Communist Party in earlier days. The second stage was a period of ‘romantic maximalism’ in which leaders of the post-Soviet states believed that international organisations had unlimited economic and military resources which would be used to address all major challenges of daily life. The third stage was one of cynicism toward international organisations, most sharply felt in Russia. The view that international organisations lack either the interest or the capacity to become involved in Eurasia led to the conclusion that membership in these organisations has little value.[101] Herein lies the institutional paradox of the first post-Cold War decade: on the one hand, there exist overlapping security institutions with competing responsibilities, while on the other, the nature of the post-1989 systemic reality has been instrumental in sustaining and/or increasing actors’ faith in co-operative frameworks and in advancing rule-governing state behaviour and interaction.[102] But as the recent events in Kosovo show, no single organisation is in a position to effectively handle the new challenges.

The end of the Cold War found Western Europe highly institutionalised. As Keohane and Nye put it: ‘state behaviour was to a considerable extent governed by rules. This system therefore only distantly resembled the textbook portrayal of sovereign states pursuing self-help policies under conditions of anarchy’.[103] Yet, if such relations seem to be an example of peacefulness at the international level, this is not due to the absence of conflicts, but rather derives from the existence of various forms of non-violent and even integrative conflict-management.[104] Western Europe is well accustomed to the politics of reciprocal co-operation and good neighbourliness, thut is why a state of political co-determination has emerged among West European polities, based on a system of mutual governance. Growing economic integration, for which the EU is the driving force, has reinforced interdependence and solidarity among Europeans. EU initiatives towards Central and Eastern Europe are part of a wider evolution towards pan-European integration. As the EU has become the centre of gravity for its periphery, it is legitimate to expect that its leadership potential will face up to its growing international responsibilities.[105] In Zaldivar’s words: ‘The countries of the Union have a particular responsibility to ensure that they choose the right path, because of the influence they can exercise’.[106] Likewise, painful structural adjustments lie ahead for the Europe to compete in a globalised economy, while urgent reforms must precede the accession of the Central and East European states to the EU.[107]

Today, there is no lack of European security institutions. The current debate within Europe is over ‘who decides’ on European security arrangements. Out of a massive literature, three issues figured prominently in the debate on the new European architecture in 1996: the transformation and eastward enlargement of NATO and the EU; the transatlantic partnership and the role of the US in European security; and the future shape and role of the OSCE.[108] The Atlantic Alliance remains at the centre of European security debates because it has succeeded in building political consensus, managing threats, defending its members, organising multinational military operations, and keeping the US involved in Europe. The other European security organisations alongside NATO work to ensure that comprehensive security has a firm foundation through the strengthening of democratic institutions in the new member states. The dilemma is that, while former communist Europe is drawn into the European security framework, security can never really be achieved without a change in the political cultures of the newly admitted states. In Klebes’ words: ‘the problem is to ensure that Western Europe reunites with Eastern Europe in terms of its democratic values and other institutions that promote a pervasive and formidable foundation for continental and transatlantic security’.[109] The defining properties of security-community is co-operation and confidence, and the Central and East European states cannot be part of such a community unless they establish co-operative practices of conflict-resolution. This does not imply that all such conflicts must be resolved before the Central and East Europeans are fully integrated into the European security-community, as the Franco-German experience has shown.[110]

 

2.6 Transformation Within: From Regime to Organisation: 1990-1995

Shortly after the 1989 Vienna FUM the radical changes in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union reached a point where it became impossible to sustain the bipolar order. The collapse of the Eastern alliance resulted in the disappearance of the bloc-to-bloc basis of the CSCE negotiations. At the request of WTO members, but with an agenda prepared by the West, the Paris Summit convened to formally mark the end of the Cold War and to deal with the new challenges confronting European security. East European governments favoured the enhancement of the CSCE for several reasons: the institution offered them the same rights and privileges as western countries and guaranteed that they had some influence on international developments; participation in the CSCE clearly identified countries as members of the European commonwealth; the CSCE remained the only security institution, besides the more tenuous links provided by the UN, linking East European governments with the US; finally, having benefited from the CSCE before the 1989 revolutions, East European states expected the institution to provide additional advantages after the disappearance of the communist regimes that had thwarted the attainment of CSCE norms.[111] The task ahead for the CSCE was to be re-tooled so as to consolidate democracy, integrate the former communist states into an ever globalising economic and financial system, and to incorporate them in the evolving pan-European architecture. The difficulty lay in transforming abstract commitments into actual processes and in developing new patterns and norms of interstate behaviour.

The Charter of Paris reflected agreement among CSCE states that the emerging polities should be directed towards sustainable economic growth. Economic liberty, social justice, and a sense of responsibility for the environment were also acknowledged as indispensable to prosperity and stability, while ‘for the first time, it became clear that the participating states could develop a common strategy to reach these goals’.[112] As Peters argues, the Paris Charter represented the beginning of both institutional deepening and broadening. Deepening refers to the formalisation of a closely-webbed network of fora for consultations with new instruments and mechanisms providing the CSCE with operational capability. Broadening refers to the expansion of CSCE competencies to deal with post-1989 issues of democratisation, protection of minorities, conflict-management, etc.[113]

The first section of the Charter listed a number of lofty principles, which form the basis of the CSCE community. As Bloed notes, however, the principles therein ‘reconfirmed that which had already been established at the Bonn conference on economic co-operation and the Copenhagen human dimension conference’.[114] The Charter also assigned the content of the three Helsinki baskets to seven different sectors (the human dimension, security, economic co-operation, the environment, culture, migration and the Mediterranean), including co-operation with Non-Governmental Organisations (NGOs). By establishing a new timetable of regular political consultations, and by giving the CSCE a modest degree of institutional underpinning, the participating states placed the HP on a more permanent footing. The aim was to promote a ‘new quality of political dialogue and co-operation’ through ‘the intensification of our consultations at all levels ...’.[115]

Moreover, regular consultations were established at three levels: Heads of State or Government, Foreign Ministers and Senior Officials. Two political bodies were also set up: the CSCE Ministerial Council that was to meet at least once a year, and the Committee of Senior Officials (Senior Council) that was to meet several times a year. In addition, three standing institutions were created: a Secretariat in Prague, the Office for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights (ODIHR) in Warsaw and the Conflict Prevention Centre (CPC) in Vienna. In institutional terms, a deepening of the HP took place, in that a closely-webbed network of consultative fora was formalised and, for the first time, new instruments and mechanisms provided the CSCE with operational capabilities. In parallel, a broadening of the CSCE’s institutional scope has occurred, by adding a competence to deal with democratisation processes and the protection of minorities. The Charter also called for greater parliamentary involvement in the CSCE through the creation of a CSCE Parliamentary Assembly. Such a call received a positive response from the Spanish delegation, which proposed to convene a conference of parliamentarians in Madrid. The conference met in April 1991 and laid the foundations for the creation of the Parliamentary Assembly (PA) of the CSCE. [116]

Important new steps were taken in Berlin and Prague meetings. At the Berlin Ministerial Council the emergency mechanism was adopted, allowing for convening consultations even without consensus.[117] The Prague Ministerial Council adopted in January 1992 the ‘Prague Document on Further Development of CSCE Institutions and Procedures’, which intended to serve as guidelines for negotiators at the next FUM in Helsinki. It is worth mentioning that the Prague Council was held at a time when NATO was already preparing meetings for a new strategy in the ‘near abroad’, and when the CSCE was to hold the first meeting of its Council of Ministers.[118] The Prague meeting also prepared the way for the dissolution of the WTO’s military structure, and then the termination of its activities. In accordance with the Paris Charter, the objective of the Prague meeting was to issue recommendations to the Ministerial Council on possible ways to develop the institutional structure of the CSCE and how to improve its conflict-prevention and conflict-resolution capabilities, or what Anstis called ‘security management’.[119] Russia was promptly accepted by the Senior Officials, but the accession of the eleven other former Soviet Republics (or successor states) and those new Republics that had declared their independence from the Yugoslav Federation was more problematic.[120]

The enthusiasm that marked the Paris Summit dissipated over the failure of the CSCE to manage the Yugoslav crisis, although even the best efforts of both the EC and the UN experienced grave difficulties. Some West European states were sceptical in attributing security-management functions to the CSCE, thus reflecting a tendency to view the emerging European security architecture in an exclusive way: either NATO or the EC (through the WEU) should be the cornerstone of the new order. Other officials remarked that this attitude was at odds with NATO policy as adopted by the Rome Summit. Western leaders indicated that the CSCE should be transformed into a more operational entity, insisting that interlocking and interacting institutions should underpin European security. The rationale here was that ‘real’ national and international security is achieved through dialogue, consultation, and co-operation, covering the whole range of interstate relations. But when Central and East European countries were faced with economic recession and political unrest, the HP needed a conflict-prevention mechanism comprising of systematic political consultations, stronger institutional arrangements, and substantive operational capabilities. In the Prague Document, CSCE states adopted a menu of optional instruments for crisis-management, including a procedure for initiating CSCE security-management. But while these arrangements represented a good starting point, a complete mechanism was still to be elaborated.[121]

The Prague meeting also considered the fact that any institutional structures would prove inadequate if faced with the threat of economic destabilisation, collapse of the energy distribution system or mass migratory waves. It was made clear that the new European security regime could be sustained only if economic collapse in Central and Eastern Europe could be prevented, and satisfactory conditions for democratic transition established. What was at stake was the possibility for ‘CSCE peace-keeping’ or a ‘CSCE role in peace-keeping’. In Anstis word’s, the dilemma faced by the CSCE was clear: ‘either the CSCE should be able in its own right to call upon resources such as a peace-keeping force for security management, or it should remit this role to others with the necessary assets’.[122] The answer to that question was partially offered at the next FUM in Helsinki scheduled to take place in March 1992. It is to this meeting that we now turn.

After the Charter of Paris, CSCE efforts proved disappointing when faced with the Yugoslav crisis and the resurgence of the problem of national minorities.[123] Collective action problems were intensified because of the CSCE’s growing composition (from 35 to 53): effective operative functions were believed to decrease as membership increases. As early as the negotiations leading to the Charter of Paris, some states had already pleaded for a resolute turn towards its institutionalisation. At a time of hope, but also of instability and insecurity, the Paris Summit insisted ‘on the efforts to forestall aggression by addressing the root causes of problems and to prevent, manage and settle conflicts peacefully by appropriate means’.[124]

The urgent need for developing a CSCE potential for conflict-prevention and crisis- management was the driving force in the progress towards it becoming an organization. It had become clear that the management of order-change in Europe was a qualitatively new challenge that could not be met with old structures and unchanged institutions. Although the institutions that were created at the Paris Charter proved weak, they allowed enough space for further institutional development. Additional institutionalisation was achieved at the Helsinki Summit in July 1992. This FUM took place against the background of increasing conflicts and crises in Europe, serious violations of human rights, internal tensions, and social and economic setbacks. These have darkened the vision of a safe, free, and prosperous CSCE area. Hence, the CSCE had to be reshaped so as to meet the needs of a transformative order.

The 1992 Helsinki II document ‘The Challenges of Change’ was innovative enough in advancing the institutional structures of the CSCE, ‘by rendering its security capabilities operational’,[125] and by developing the framework of activities relating to the human dimension. In addition, Basket II was reactivated and measures to further co-operation in the fields of economics, science, technology, and the environment were adopted. The Helsinki II document declared the CSCE as a regional arrangement in the sense of Chapter VIII of the UN Charter, calling for an ambitious role for the CSCE in the fields of early warning, conflict-prevention, and crisis-management. In December 1992, the CSCE Ministerial Council established a new post of the Secretary General, and in 1993 strengthened the Secretariat in Vienna. In December 1993, a new body, the Permanent Committee, was established in Vienna, significantly extending the possibilities for political consultation, dialogue, and decision-making on a weekly basis.

The inclusion of peacekeeping operations in the means available to the HP is of great significance for it transformed the CSCE into an institution with operational functions.[126] The Helsinki II document declared that civil or military operations can be conducted by the CSCE; while they may not entail the use of force, they must be conducted impartially and a consensus by the Ministerial Council or the Committee of Senior Officials should be considered as necessary. It was decided that CSCE peacekeeping operations could only be undertaken in the context of intrastate conflicts. The CSCE could call for help from NATO, the EU, the WEU, or even the CIS. Traditionally, peacekeeping operations are a ‘hard’ option, in that armed forces may be used as an instrument, although the Helsinki II document stated that such operations might not be used for coercion. Enforcement action was altogether excluded from the new instruments, but as history proves, the HP has better worked with softer options.[127]

The process of institutionalisation which begun earlier in Paris was continued in Helsinki II with the establishment of a Chairman-in-Office (CiO) and a Forum for Security Co-operation (FSC), strengthening the CSCE’s role in preventive diplomacy. The newly created High Commissioner on National Minorities (HCNM) was tasked with responding, at the earliest possible stage, to regional nationalistic and ethnic tensions. The latter measure demonstrated the CSCE’s desire to identify the underlying causes of crises and to correct them before they become uncontrollable. In addition, ‘it enabled the HP to tackle the question of national minorities from a security point of view, something that significantly differs from the exclusive - and up to that time inconclusive - viewppoint of human rights’.[128] Yet, the human dimension had to be adjusted so that states are able to verify the implementation of agreed commitments, by a biennial review meeting and by holding seminars on issues of particular relevance.[129]

Moreover, Helsinki II ended the dichotomy that had limited the HP to the mere negotiation of CSBMs, while placing beyond its scope issues of disarmament which, throughout the 1970s, remained in the responsibility of the MBFR and, after the Stockholm Conference, of the CFE. This dichotomy was eliminated by the provision to set up the FSC in Vienna. The harmonisation of the MBFR and CFE arrangements aimed at preserving and further enhancing the dynamic process instituted by these major agreements.[130] Yet, the FSC was tasked to negotiate conventional disarmament measures and provisions to harmonise obligations arising from various international instruments, CSBMs, and other stabilising measures. Helsinki II also decided that the FSC will serve as a general permanent framework for consultation, co-operation, and dialogue on force generation capabilities, non-proliferation, and the formulation of politico-military code of conduct.[131] Chapter V of the Helsinki II document assigned to the FSC the negotiation of concrete and militarily significant measures to reduce the conventional armed forces of CSCE states, to link maintenance of armed forces to legitimate security requirements, and to operationalise the ‘Programme for Immediate Action’.[132] Of particular significance and sophistication is the Forum’s role for a co-operative dialogue which, as Ghebali notes, is ‘a role linked to the idea that security must no longer be dealt with as a purely national matter, but as a collective responsibility, committing all the participating countries regardless of their size or geographic location’.[133]

But soon after the Helsinki Summit, the effectiveness of the CSCE was put to the test. The growing tensions in Kosovo, Sandjak, and Vojvodina, the danger of a spillover to FYROM, the deep crisis in Moldova, the continuing conflict in Nagorno-Karabakh, and the urgent preventive diplomacy efforts in the Baltics, all called for immediate CSCE action. The failure of the Budapest Summit (5-6 December 1994) did not entail any negative repercussions for the Budapest Review Conference (7-8 December 1995) which produced a document entitled ‘Towards a Genuine Partnership in a New Era’. As already noted, this document provided for the metamorphosis of the CSCE, containing numerous decisions relating to military, economic, and human rights issues, as well as matters of a Mediterranean interest. Although the structures and institutions of the CSCE were consolidated, without dramatically rationalising the system,[134] it was the change of name that reflected this deep transformation. Höynck concurs: ‘This was an expression of its determination to give a new political impetus to its process, thus enabling it to play a central role in the promotion of a new common security space’.[135] Above all, Budapest confirmed the future role of the OSCE as a primary instrument for early warning, conflict-prevention, and crisis-management. But as the Netherlands Helsinki Committee observed shortly before the Budapest Review Conference, ‘their rhetoric notwithstanding, states do not seem too sure about the particular role of the CSCE in Europe or, if they are, how far they want to take that role’.[136] Although the Russian President Yeltsin spoke of the danger of a ‘cold peace’ pointing to the on-going war in Bosnia and Herzegovina, ‘there was a general feeling that in this increasingly critical situation the capabilities of the CSCE in conflict prevention and crisis management should be further developed’.[137] As Europe cannot afford additional open conflicts that are in danger of becoming unmanageable, the questions of whether, when and how the OSCE should get involved is an extremely sensitive issue associated with its own possibilities and limitations. As succinctly put: ‘asking too much of the CSCE is in its own way as bad as asking too little’.[138] Thus, the results of the Budapest Review Conference were both future-oriented and directed towards immediate concerns.

The role of the CiO was strengthened so that individuals can now bring serious cases of alleged non-compliance to the attention of the Permanent Committee, as it was agreed that human dimension issues would be regularly dealt with by the latter. The position of the ODIHR was also enhanced to increase its involvement in the workings of the Permanent Committee and in mission activities, entitling the ODIHR’s Director to propose further action in close consultation with the CiO. This was managed by ‘putting regularly human dimension issues on the agenda of the Permanent Committee (including serious cases of non-implementation), participation of the ODIHR in Senior Council and Permanent Committee discussions, and involvement of the ODIHR in the preparation, conduct and follow-up of field missions’.[139] The Concluding Document mandated the CiO to convene a meeting of the Permanent Committee to discuss the means of integrating economic and environmental co-operation, science and technology, and regional and trans-frontier co-operation.

The Budapest Conference also endorsed the outcome of the negotiations that were conducted since 1992 in the framework of the FSC. This included an updated version of the CSBMs regime - the so called ‘Vienna Document’ - and seven other politically binding texts. These texts accounted for three different arrangements. The first offered the traditional-type of CSBMs: a programme for military contacts and co-operation,[140] a set of provisions on ‘Defence Planning’ to enhance transparency, and a regime for the global exchange of military information. The second contributed to conflict management techniques through a catalogue of ‘Stabilising Measures for Localised Crisis Situations’. Finally, the third consisted of principles governing arms transfers and non-proliferation, and a ‘Code of Conduct on politico-military aspects of security’. The latter is generally seen as the most precious political item of the Budapest exercise,[141] introducing new security elements by affirming that participating states ‘are determined to act in solidarity if CSCE norms and commitments are violated and to facilitate concerted responses to security challenges that they may face as a result’.[142] OSCE states will consult promptly on questions of self-defence and they will also consider jointly the nature of the threat and actions that may be required in defence of their common values.

What is also worth noting is that the Budapest Summit achieved a breakthrough on Mediterranean issues.[143] In attempting to intensify the dialogue with the five non-participating Mediterranean states, OSCE states decided to establish an informal contact group to meet periodically within the framework of the Permanent Committee in order to conduct high-level consultations through the Troika and the Secretary General and, also, to hold a seminar on the OSCE’s experience.[144] Since then, the OSCE has held two such seminars in the Mediterranean: in Cairo (September 1995), which gave Mediterranean partners a picture of the OSCE experience; and in Tel Aviv (June 1996), which developed the experiences of other forums in conducting dialogue. These developments bear particular weight on the rationale of this study, as it adds credit to a comparative investigation of the Helsinki and Barcelona processes.

 

2.7 Functions, Structures and Mechanisms

Since its transformation into an international organisation, the OSCE has performed the following valuable functions. First, it provides a platform for pan-European multilateral diplomacy across a comprehensive range of issues within the broadly defined area of security and co-operation. Second, it constitutes a normative framework upon which a co-operative security system can be based, in terms of promoting and codifying shared norms, values and standards of behaviour among its members, particularly in the sphere of human rights and the non-use of force. As Hanson put it, ‘contemporary international relations in Europe are characterised by an element that was largely absent from this arena until relatively recently. While norms constraining state behaviour have always been present to some degree in inter-state relations, never before have they been codified so clearly to represent the obligations and expectations of states, both in inter-state relations and in the way they treat their domestic populations’.[145]

Third, it offers a series of mechanisms for the continuous monitoring of human rights for both individuals and national minorities.[146] Fourth, it acts as an institutionalised forum for promoting military transparency, arms controls, and CSBMs, including the CFE agreement and the Open Skies treaties.[147] Fifth, it acts as guarantor of the Paris-instituted Pact for Stability as well as a means of strengthening regional security through localised arms agreements in the context of the Dayton Accords.[148] Finally, it develops instruments for early warning, preventive diplomacy, and crisis management.[149] One of the key lessons of Bosnia, Neville-Jones asserts, is that ‘crisis prevention and management must be taken more seriously… This means willingness to spend small sums of money in order to avoid greater costs later.[150]  The OSCE has only recently begun to develop such activities, but has already achieved some significant successes.

While the OSCE has succeeded in carving out for itself a crucial role based on the aforementioned functions, it still faces a number of significant challenges. Hyde-Price points out that the OSCE has a relatively small permanent staff and constant financial problems,[151] while it has become a veritable ‘alphabet soup’ of institutions and offices, suffering from the malaise of institutional rivalry, bureaucratic infighting, and lack of cohesion.[152] Moreover, its relationship with other regional/international organisations needs further clarification. Although its aim, post-1989, has been to forge a European co-operative security system based on ‘interlocking’ institutions, such enmenshment of functions and tasks has often resulted in these institutions becoming ‘interblocking’. Today, the OSCE occupies a unique position in the European security architecture. The concept of comprehensive security to which the OSCE adheres differentiates it from any other Trans-Atlantic security organisations that focus entirely on the politico-military aspects of security.[153] Instead, the OSCE presumes a direct relationship between peace, stability and wealth on the one hand, and the development of democratic institutions, the rule of law, respect for human and minority rights on the other. In its efforts to institutionalise a comprehensive security regime, the OSCE sets in motion a ‘learning process’ that requires governments and military establishments to transcend deterrence and replace it with mutualism, reassurance, and trust-building measures. As Adler suggests, this redefinition of security has been necessary for the development of mutual trust and a growing sense of mutual identification among OSCE members.[154]

Although the growing OSCE aspirations to effective conflict-management represent an ambitious enough target, no path-breaking achievements can be expected in enforcing the renunciation-of-force principle in cases of committed aggressors. For, its activities are often measures of ‘quiet’ diplomacy and instruments of low intensity whose efficacy can be easily questioned. Rather, its major achievement so far has been in the area of discerning disputes and potential conflicts that are less publicly visible.[155] Doubtless, OSCE ‘soft’ measures seem appropriate when conflicting parties exhibit some degree of goodwill, and when the actual conflict itself seems still some way off. The fact-finding missions, visits and recommendations of the HCNM, and the contacts and technical expertise offered by the OSCE have greatly contributed to defusing tensions in Estonia and FYROM, where the parties are relatively amenable and open to compromise. Likewise, OSCE operations have helped to de-escalate potential tensions in the Baltic region, while its intervention in the Balkans (Bosnia, Croatia, Serbia, and Albania) has demonstrated its expanding role in regional conflict-management and other security-related issues that currently figure prominently in the transatlantic agenda.[156] 

Comprehensive security, along the lines pursued by the OSCE, presupposes that a variety of aspects are taken into account by the relevant decision-making bodies of the organisation. But economic/ecological issues are absent from the organisation’s agenda: the emphasis is still on democratisation and the transition to free-market economies, whereas economic and ecological issues are not yet perceived as (near-future) security threats. Instead, they are safely tucked away in the deliberations of the Senior Council when it meets as the Economic Forum. Zaagman offers three reasons for change: ‘Firstly, because [such an approach] ... leads to the neglect of issues which could cause (violent) conflict in the short term. Moreover, since economic and ecological issues are not integrated in the supposedly comprehensive security discussions of the political OSCE bodies, important aspects may be overlooked when the OSCE is debating how to address a conflict-prone situation. Lastly, this state of affairs also leads to a neglect of core security concerns of certain OSCE states, which are of an economic and ecological nature’.[157]

Today, the OSCE has several political bodies and institutions. It has been rightly pointed out that, institutionally, there is already much in place, although many OSCE mechanisms leave room for improvement.[158] In Höynck’s words: ‘the instruments of OSCE provide a possibility to build trust, increase transparency and clarify concerns between neighbours, while it is always an expression of a co-operative endeavour’.[159] Central to its contribution to international security-building is the accommodationist role of its Permanent Council. Additionally, the Chairman-in-Office, assisted by the Troika, has been a forceful instrument for promoting OSCE ideals and for taking the necessary actions. Since 1992, long-term missions in conflict zones have proved effective in reducing tensions and creating the necessary climate of confidence for seeking political solutions. The HCNM is effectively involved in defusing minority problems through a politics of discreet diplomacy, being conducted since 1993. On its part, the Office for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights contributes to the development of civil societies in the OSCE area.

 

2.8 Understanding the Helsinki Paradigm

The CSCE established the structure and the process that came to symbolise détente in Europe. In an international climate plagued by mounting ideological tensions, it was hoped that the new forum could provide fresh political direction, fostering the flow of ideas, people, and information, whilst keeping distrust on a manageable level. Rather than becoming a ‘passive affair’, the CSCE evolved into a dynamic process, whose ultimate goal was ‘to reconcile Europe’s traditions of freedom with its present realities’.[160] Refusing to see the final product of such reconciliation built on power alone, it sought to establish a new political order based on the principles of international law, democratic values, and a human rights approach to security-building. According to Birnbaum, the HP represents ‘a unique international effort in the collective management of both conflict and cooperation’.[161] Through the employment of collective diplomacy, the process developed effective methods of work for monitoring the Cold War power balance and replacing the risk of confrontation with institutionalised co-operation. Despite the fact that the HP was frequently exposed to dangers either external or inherent to its framework, ‘it showed a remarkable ability to both reflect and change with the times’.[162] Dealing with the necessity for an honest and productive dialogue between the two major coalitions, it exploited all possibilities for ‘expanding a genuine community of interest and general mutual understanding’.[163] Such tasks, however, which arguably extend beyond a mere enlargement of trust among nations, made the HP an integral element of détente, conceived not only as a condition (systemic property) but also as an evolutionary process to be maintained, if not enhanced.

The HP has contributed to European security by providing a co-operative security regime for the resolution of collective action problems. It turned out that such a regime had been implemented fairly successfully, contributing to the dynamics of order-building in the wider European security process. This contribution was more evident in the following areas: surprise attack, arms race, ineffective verification, and ethnic and religion conflict.[164] Moreover, through its human dimension, the CSCE sought to rededicate the European state system to the cause of human rights ‘that were for the first time recognised as a vital part of the international agenda’.[165] But above all, as Mastny put it, ‘the CSCE linked state security with individual security’.[166] This novel approach paved the way towards the creation of new channels of inter-systemic communication that could challenge communist repression ab intra.

Summarising its pre-1989 contribution to the politics of order-building, one has to acknowledge that the CSCE multilateralized East-West diplomacy in Europe’s international system. In doing so, the new multilateral framework of co-operation challenged what Ghebali calls la logic des blocs,[167] allowing the neutral actors of the Cold War to develop their role as full participants and as independent mediators. In other words, the CSCE tried to establish equality among unequal partners, transcend bipolar complexity, and extend the pan-European dialogue from the sphere of ‘hard’ security to ecological, economic, and humanitarian issues. To borrow from Mastny again: ‘Connecting the seemingly disconnected had always been a Helsinki tradition’.[168] Finally, the CSCE transformed this intermittent dialogue into a continuous but loosely institutionalised process based on political pragmatism that took the form of a series of conferences organised at indeterminate intervals without support by a permanent secretariat.

But the institutionalisation did not progress on the basis of a ‘grand design’. Rather, its transformation was a response to the new systemic reality through manageable forms of creative development.[169] Until 1990, the so-called ‘old’ CSCE[170] functioned as a series of FUM and ad hoc conferences, setting norms and periodically reviewing their implementation. It has since played a vital role in stimulating democratic reform and developing monitoring mechanisms to ensure compliance. After the Cold War, the ‘new’ CSCE has established a plethora of political organs and administrative bodies with operational capabilities. This marks a point of departure from a quasi-institutionalised exercise in international regime-formation and regime-maintenance to a process of substantive institutionalisation in a transformative order: from conference to regime and then to organisation.[171] The CSCE was mainly an instrument of conference diplomacy: a framework for negotiation and linkage of interests to reach consensual decisions and ascertain implementation. Today, the OSCE contains elements of both the pre- and post-1989 phases of the HP. This is reflected in the preservation of its process-driven nature, the encompassment of permanent monitoring mechanisms, and institutions with operational capabilities.

In post-Cold War security considerations, the term ‘conflict’ has not been exclusively confined in military terms. Preventing conflicts in the 1990s requires that the net be thrown widely to include questions of political order (or disorder), economic factors, and issues of human rights, minority rights, etc. In recent years, the OSCE has been paying more attention to the economic and civil dimensions of security.[172] Pluricausal crises require imaginative, comprehensive, and flexible responses that may transform the OSCE into a pan-European security community based on a normative consensus. Höynck notes: ‘[The OSCE] is the one and only organisation with the possibility of building a common political ethos of European values: values that are necessary as a common foundation for permanent peace and security’.[173]

Today, the OSCE marks its impact by establishing a crucial link between domestic and international security: its comprehensive concept of security reflects the globalising trends in world politics and the reality that a state cannot achieve security at the expense of others. In its long journey, human rights issues have come to be accepted as areas of legitimate involvement for international organisations, urging a different interpretation of the classical principles of sovereignty and non-intervention. Lehne defines the CSCE as an extremely loose community because of the limits to cohesiveness and unity.[174] This finding is still applicable and will presumably be valid in the new millennium too. Heraclides makes the point well: ‘the community of values achieved ... is in several instances only skin­deep ... Although no participating state would openly dispute the principles of pluralistic democracy, human rights and fundamental freedoms, the rule of law and the rights of persons belonging to national minorities, it is clear that not all states truly subscribe to them ...’.[175] Subscribing to political and moral standards on the one hand, and committing oneself to their implementation on the other, are obviously two different things. In this sense, the OSCE can be also seen as a forum of symbolic politics: a ‘quasi-legal community’, rather than a ‘community of values’, based on a commitment to peaceful change.[176]

According to Acimovic, the OSCE departs from the CSCE in terms of its place and role in European politics, its character, constitutive structure, and methods of work.[177] Its essential function is no longer the promotion of détente but to steer and manage democratisation in the former socialist polities and to provide regional stability. This is in line with Ghebali’s view that the entire project was as much a result of changing (systemic) realities, as it was an agent of change in its own right.[178] As far as the latter equation is concerned, the post-Cold War aims of the OSCE consist of new normative commitments to democracy, the rule of law, human rights, economic freedoms, and social justice. In short, in its long and arduous journey from Helsinki I to its present form, the HP has taken on a remarkable set of tasks, competencies, and commitments, breaking away from its past image as a loose sequence of interstate negotiations and political consultations. OSCE competencies encompass the setting of specific regimes and compliance mechanisms. Although this is a continuous process requiring a macro-perspective to become effective, so far, dependable expectations of peaceful change are not prevalent in the entire OSCE region. Adler explains why: ‘First, because many new states that were invited to join after the end of the Cold War have yet to internalise the norms and practices. Secondly, because of ethnic conflicts, civil wars, and gross human rights violations that take place in the region, and that will be so far the foreseeable future, regional peace will depend, in part, on collective security activities of NATO, the WEU, and/or individual European powers’.[179]

            Building a new European architecture has taken the OSCE from its norm-setting role to a more operational one. With its innovative approach to pan-European security-building, the OSCE has been instrumental in the incorporation of the former communist countries to a continent-wide security community. The continuation of a positive role for the OSCE depends on its political and instrumental flexibility to allow for collective problem-solving to be adapted to the necessity of rebuilding legitimate polities.[180] In this sense, Peters notes, its credo is ‘co-operation on behalf of democracy and welfare in order to enhance security of the people within the states and among states’.[181] The above exploration of the Helsinki order-building model, in its various evolutionary stages - i.e., conference, regime, organisation - provides the analytical platform from which a deeper understanding of the Barcelona Process can be reached. Since the primary aim of this study is to address questions of Euro-Mediterranean governance in the light of the Helsinki experience, rather than to provide an exhaustive account of the latter, the bulk of analysis is placed on the emerging Euro-Mediterranean order, to which we now turn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter III

The Barcelona Process and the Transformation of the Mediterranean

The 1989 annus mirabilis has been configured as a major turning point in international relations, when the East-West ideological dichotomy evaporated and the focus shifted towards the North-South divide. Now that the once fearsome Soviet threat has actually vanished, post-Cold War Europe is confronted by instability deriving from socio-political and economic disparities, together with the risk of smaller-scale intrastate conflicts. During the Cold War, the Euro-Mediterranean system encompassed many possible seats of tension as well as a series of protracted conflicts with a strong historical background (for example the Greek-Turkish dispute over Cyprus and the Arab-Israeli conflict). The fact that the region served as a security chessboard to the strategic policies of both the US and the Soviet Union[182] has introduced an idiosyncratic fragility at the systemic level, after the removal of the ‘bipolar overlay’. Notwithstanding the successive Yugoslav crises and the Gulf Wars, the renaissance of a wider interest in Mediterranean affairs is based on the growing importance the region enjoys in the strategic calculus of the new European order. While EU members along the northern rim are increasingly prosperous as they find themselves locked in a dual, albeit not linear, process of economic and political integration, most countries located at the southern rim seem to be moving in the opposite direction. It is evident that the widening gap between the North and South Mediterranean rims causes dramatic structural instability to Europe’s international system, while projecting images of instability to the rest of the world. But to gain any valuable insights from the study of Euro-Mediterranean politics, one has first to understand the complexity and reality of this volatile regional order.

 

3.1 Euro-Mediterranean Systemic Properties

Geographically, the Euro-Mediterranean space encompasses at least two mega-regions: the geographical space which borders its north-west sector (EU) and the south-eastern one, namely the Middle East, and three sub-regional groupings: Southern Europe, the Mashreq and the Maghreb.[183] Although there exist many variations in such geographical divisions, it is still useful to think of the Mediterranean as a single security system. Arguably, no other part of the globe exemplifies better the post-bipolar symptoms of instability towards the fragmentation and revival of ‘ancient feuds’ than the Mediterranean, with security questions becoming increasingly indivisible, often regardless of its diverse sub-regional features.

Many issues that are currently involved in regional fragmentation date back to the early stages of colonialism.[184] Colonialisation was first practised by the South to the North and, later, vice versa. The Egyptian, Phoenician, Greek, and Persian civilisations, and later the Roman Empire, have all found their way to the Mediterranean and sought to use it as a means of extending their power-base. The split between the Byzantine empire in the East and the Catholic/Germanic kingdoms in the West, the rise of Islamic and Arabic rule in the Middle East, North Africa and Spain, the impact of extra-territorial forces such as the Normans and Crusaders, and the rise of regional powers like Moorish Spain, Venice and Genoa, have all contributed to the fragmentation of the region. Their combined impact has often turned the latter into a potentially explosive area, wherein the divisions and controversies among its peoples intermixed with their historical ties and related destiny. As a result, the Mediterranean has always run the risk of becoming a site of endemic and often protracted conflicts.

Contemporary analysts point to both real and potential conflicts that originate in or impact on the region. Revisiting their respective causes, Balta has distinguished between conflicts that originate in the distant past and conflicts that emerged during the second half of this century.[185] Potential conflicts are divided into three categories: those inherited from colonialism (mainly territorial), those stemming from deeply divided societies (e.g., Lebanon), and those originating in minority issues (e.g., Basques, Corsicans, Kurds, etc). Conflicts inherited from the past are closely associated with the three monotheistic denominations affecting Mediterranean societies. Taken together, these inheritances exemplify the denominational fractures among Christianity, Judaism and Islam, and the schisms between the Catholic and Eastern Orthodox camps, as well as between the Sunnis and Shiites. Such conflicts are the Arab-Israeli dispute, the Greco-Turkish rivalry, and the associated Cyprus question. The latter, for over a quarter of a century now, continues to frustrate all attempts at inter-communal reconciliation and, eventually, reunification. The Arab-Israeli issue has also featured prominently at the international agenda, due to the intractability of its political and historical complexity, the depth of its emotional intensity, and the recent revival of hope for a negotiated peaceful settlement.

During the Cold War, Spencer writes, the prevailing view was that the Mediterranean represented ‘a region of importance because of its proximity, potential instability and hence exploitation by the erstwhile Soviet Union, but of less importance as an “out of area” region in NATO terms’.[186] The Cold War had led to a reductive assessment of Mediterranean security problems, focusing on the means and ends of countering the threat of the Soviet presence on Euro-American lines of communication, oil and trade routes. But from the late 1980s onwards, a shift in emphasis became manifest from global assessments of security issues to regional ones. Lesser has argued that Southern Europe was peripheral during the bipolar era, but in the new strategic environment problems and interests have shifted towards the South.[187] The aftermath of the Cold War gave the impression, albeit briefly, that certain protracted conflicts might be resolved. But the easing of East-West tension was not followed by a similar trend in Mediterranean politics. Rather, the removal of bipolar ‘safety net’ and with it the view that wanted the Mediterranean to serve as a sub-theatre of superpower antagonism introduced an idiosyncratic fragility at both regional and sub-regional levels.

Mediterranean society and culture is relatively unstructured and non-hierarchical. The European civilisation owes much to the Mediterranean and the Islamic world, and both have found themselves locked in centuries of lasting dynamic tension and cooperation. To start with, one has to go back to the era of the ancient Greek civilisation, and the days of the Roman imperium. In the period after, the Mediterranean witnessed an explosion of the Arab population that conquered the Greco-Roman civilisations, leaving a remarkable and lasting impact on a region that extended from Egypt to the so called ‘Fertile Crescent’. The peoples living in this area were given a new religion, Islam, and a new language, Arabic. Neither of which, however, was able to create a melting pot through assimilationist techniques of enforced homogeneity, or for that matter to lead towards a complete fusion or incorporation, although some commonly shared features did offer a bridge to overcoming diversity.

The Egyptian, Phoenician, Greek, and Persian civilisations, and later the Roman Empire, have all found their way to the Mediterranean. The split between the Byzantine empire in the East and the Catholic/Germanic kingdoms in the West, the rise of Islamic and Arabic rule in the Middle East, North Africa and Spain, the impact of extra-territorial forces such as the Crusaders, and the rise of regional powers like Venice and Genoa, have all contributed to a rich Mediterranean history. Their combined impact has often turned the Mediterranean into a potentially explosive area, wherein the divisions and controversies among its peoples intermixed with their historical ties and related destiny. As a result, the Mediterranean has always run the risk of becoming a site of endemic and often protracted conflicts.

From such a macro-historical perspective, the fragmentation of the Euro-Mediterranean space constitutes the major obstacle to sustain North-South co-operation. Tempting as it may be to characterise the Mediterranean as ‘a horizontal dividing line’ between the rich European North and ‘an arc of crisis’ located in the South, this division fails to capture the dialectic between distinct, yet intertwined, geographical spaces. A North-South conflict theoretical framework underestimates the realities of both North-North and South-South frictions and the sympathies that not only prevent the outbreak of autochthonous conflicts but also underlie Western European efforts to develop harmonious, yet not symmetrical, relations across the Mediterranean.[188] A more studied analysis though, reveals that the Mediterranean provides an efficient line of contact. In fact, it has always constituted a crossing point for conflict and co-operation, antagonism and co-existence. Being a heterogeneous synthesis of diverse civilisations - conceptually, along the lines of a ‘heterarchy’ - as well as of unequal economic development, a plurality of political regimes, divergent perceptions of security, and uneven demographic growth, the Euro-Mediterranean system occupies a position between order and disorder, for which a comprehensive framework of analysis is yet to become discernible. True as the latter may be, the Mediterranean can be also seen as a network of diversities and dividing lines between different socio-economic systems, political cultures and regimes, languages and, crucially, religions. One may also refer to the Mediterranean as a space, where geography, history and politics intermesh with culture and religion with enormous complexity, resulting in a composite system of partial regimes, each reflecting a particular sense of being and belonging.

Religion is a very important factor in the Euro-Mediterranean system, in which all three major monotheistic traditions co-exist. Much like Christianity, Islam originates out of Hebrew monotheism and branches of Judaism with common roots back to the patriarch Abraham. The influence of European thinking on the Arab-Muslim world dates back to the 19th century, while the Muslim civilisation marked its impact on European-Christian culture for several centuries. But whereas the Hellenic-Judaic tradition, Couloumbis and Veremis note, captured the imagination of the Europeans with relatively little resistance, Islam failed to make any significant inroads in the West. ‘The Ottomans left their religious heritage in Bosnia and Albania but the Arabs that preceded them facilitated the transmission of Aristotelian thought into Europe of the tenth century. The subsequent blooming of the Renaissance was assisted by the Byzantine transfusion of classical Greek philosophy and Platonic thought that questioned the established Aristotelian wisdom’.[189] Not only did European culture have no particular influence on Muslims for over a thousand years, but also benefited from the early Islamic ‘enlightenment’.[190] Regardless of the socio-cultural and economic entanglements rooted in Mediterranean history, the modern European image of Islam sets its culture outside Europe; also, due to the burdened colonial past of the Europeans, the image of external ‘otherness’ to Europe is mirrored in the Muslim societies of the Mediterranean.

 

3.2 (Mis)perceptions, Islamophobia and the Arab Journey to Modernity

Mediterranean security considerations are full of misunderstandings about distorted perceptions and images of (political) Islam, as well as about the threat of terrorism used by extremist nationalist movements in the region. Other issues stem from the appropriation of Islam for political ends and the lack of respect for universal values and norms of human rights. These misunderstandings emanate from mutual ignorance and intended confusion, since the military dimension of security is lacking from Southern debate on security. One should also guard against the simplification often suggested in the media that ‘Islamic fundamentalism’ is a violent and merciless organisation orchestrated by Iran with the help of other radical regimes.[191] As Essid rightly points out, ‘there is still a need to define and redefine terms which, rather than contributing to the dialogue we desire, reduce it to a series of parallel monologues and, at several levels, reinforce misunderstandings’.[192] It is thus of great value that any meaningful debate about Islam should dispel the clouds of deliberate myth-making and revengeful rhetoric that are particularly detrimental to a mutually rewarding dialogue.

During the Gulf War the West was seriously concerned with the possibility of a militant Islamist backlash against intervention. The risk of terrorist attacks against the West was raised by Hussein’s call for a ‘holy war’ a few days after he invaded Kuwait. His appeal rested on a three-pronged strategy that bared several fault lines between and within Mediterranean societies.[193] From an international relations perspective, this signalled the re-arrangement of world order, reducing the East-West confrontation to a minimum, whilst re-emphasising, in however complex terms, the Orient-Occident and North-South gaps. These events offered useful ammunition to those arguing that the dominant conflict post-Cold War is between Occidental and Oriental values, or indeed between an Occidental economic/technological ‘post-historical’ world and an Oriental ‘historical’ world.[194] Rather effortlessly, Huntington depicted multiple (sub)regional clashes as a result of the irrefutable existence of different cultures (civilisations), projecting a historical Mediterranean fragmentation, rather than unity.[195] His Clash of Civilisations raised the question of the cultural dimension of security, in that the ‘clash’ occurs along the lines of religiously inspired militancy against Western liberal values. But his analysis missed the underlying causes of Islamic resurgence, as it is obsessed with the cultural symbols or the retrieval of collective historical memories. A related line of criticism is that, by rewriting Muslim history, his approach fails to encourage intelligent dialogue between the two opposing cultures. Instead, such scholarship serves to corrupt the common moral and political language of the two cultures and fosters violence and confrontation, and as a justification for the prolongation of historical stereotypes.

Nevertheless, concern of an Islamic ‘threat’ to the West increased after the Gulf War, by creating a new enemy stereotype after the demise of communism, preparing a climate for a ‘new cultural war’.[196] Rising anxiety in international relations is, according to Blunden, contagious.[197] The international system tends naturally to generate insecurity and suspicion, and ‘once a pattern of hostility has been established each will tend to see the other as the enemy and to assume the worst about him’.[198] In fact, even before the Gulf crisis, a theory started to take shape that it was not Communism that constituted the major threat for the West, but rather Islamic fundamentalism.[199] On many occasions, Western policy-makers have exploited a general public ignorance about Orientalism to advance self-serving foreign policy objectives. Since ‘Islam is both a religion and a polity’,[200] it is not surprising that several extremist groups have used it for radical purposes. The traditional view of the so-called Orientalists in the West is that the Arabs/Muslims ‘show lack of coordination and harmony in organisation and function, nor have they revealed an ability for cooperation. Any collective action for mutual benefit or common profit is alien to them’.[201] Crucial to the creation of such stereotypes has been the role played by the Western media in equating Islam with ‘fundamentalist Islam’ and, hence, with a direct threat to the liberal-democratic West. As Said observes, ‘... the negative images of Islam are very much more prevalent than any others and such images correspond, not to what Islam “is” ... but to what prominent sectors of a particular society take it to be: Those sectors have the power and the will to propagate that particular image of Islam, and this image therefore becomes more prevalent, more present, than all others’.[202] In this context, Said continues, ‘there is a consensus on Islam as a kind of scapegoat for everything we do not happen to like about the world’s new political, social, and economic patterns’.[203] Likewise, Esposito, a renounced non-Muslim scholar on Islam, has suggested that the selective presentation of facts and biased analysis have contributed to a negative perception of Islamic religion by mainstream Western society, reducing Islam and Islamic revivalism to stereotypes of ‘Islam vs. the West’, ‘Islam vs. modernity’, ‘Muslim rage’, extremism, fanaticism, and so on.[204] Writing on the subject, Roberson argues that ‘the Islamic threat is essentially a counterfeit issue imbued with stereotypical misperceptions and a casual commitment to analysis ... in some cases, a conscious exercise in image creation for tactical political purposes’.[205]

There has been a century-lasting conflict between Islam and Western Christianity, each being perceived by the other as ‘suspect’. Since the crusades, the Western world used to export its civilisation through its imperial and colonial policies, often echoing the logic of divide et impera, to secure its vital economic and trade interests. All other civilisations were measured by Western standards on the basis of anthropocentric and individualistic worldviews reflected in the Greco-Roman and Christian traditions. These pre-liberal images were strongly influenced by the pre-eminent role attached to an essentially value-driven distinction between the individual and the collective. It was only thanks to the legacy of the Enlightenment that certain notions of ‘civility’ were linked to a more normative political language. Such a legacy has, in large measure, survived the present era, with the West attempting to monopolise global discourse on the democratic functions of government and human rights. But much like those in the West, Muslims believe that their faith has a divine purpose too, motivating them to set the world straight. They believe to be the chosen people following the righteous path to ‘judgement day’. More than religion and polity, Islam is also a culture with a different perception of the relationship between church and state.[206]

Despite the fact that the roots of this discourse can be traced to the revival of classic Greek ideas and the Renaissance, it was the coming of modernity that clearly exposed the differences between the two cultures.[207] Most Arab societies were introduced to the logic of modernisation under the heavy pressure of colonial Europe. Modernisation was more successful in dismantling the traditional structures than in setting up their modern replacements.[208] The process of adaptation to modernity is still going on for Islamic countries. Although Gellner has argued that ‘the high culture of Islam is endowed with a number of features ... that are congruent, presumably, with requirements of modernity or modernisation’,[209] many Muslim leaders still fight for a line ‘back to the roots’. Arab governing elites are particularly eclectic in picking out those ‘values of modernisation’ that best fit their objective aims of maintaining power and control, such as modern weapons, surveillance technology, and consumer goods. Thus, a process of ‘selective sorting out’ and ‘selective adaptation’ does not allow the Western system of values and its assorted culture of modernisation to be accepted by these societies. Instead, modernisation is often reduced to a symbol of moral decay. From this line of argument, Western influence has to be controlled, not least because it increases the technological, military, economic, and scientific superiority and/or hegemony of the capitalist world.

In Western polities, a separation of state and religion (secularism) was necessary to safeguard the modernisation project - and its assorted properties of industrialisation, urbanisation, bureaucratisation, technology, growth in communications, etc. - but Islam is still against any such separation.[210] Huntington observes that fundamentalist Islam demands political rulers to be practising Muslims: ‘shari’a [Islamic law] should be the basic law, and ulema [theologists and jurists] should have “a decisive vote in articulating, or at least reviewing and ratifying, all governmental policy”’.[211] According to Islamists, modernity may only be reached within the framework of indigenous values and not through their assimilation to Western culture. Aliboni explains: ‘modernisation through imitation of the West is a trap, which can only lead to subordination’.[212] In this context, Huntington notes that, ‘to the extent that governmental legitimacy and policy flow from religious doctrines and religious expertise, Islamic concepts of politics differ from and contradict the premises of democratic politics’.[213] This view accords with Diamond, Linz and Lipset’s earlier analysis that ‘the Islamic countries of the Middle East and Northern Africa ... appear to have little prospect of transition even to semi-democracy’.[214] But it comes in direct opposition to Pool’s claims that ‘the view that Islam is utterly incompatible with democracy, whatever form the latter takes, is to view Islam from a limited and simplistic perspective. Contemporary Islam can be democratic, undemocratic and anti-democratic and the political orientations of Muslim and Islamic movements have exhibited similar variations’.[215] To cut a long story short, although Curdy argues that democracy and Islam ‘are contradictory only if democracy is defined by certain Western standards’,[216] in the end, ‘presidents and kings remain in charge of a state-controlled process of democratisation as part of strategies of ... regime survival’.[217]

 The revival of Islam per se, of political Islamism, and of Islamic radicalism are products of the aforementioned antitheses. Today, fragmented and struggling with modernity, Islam faces a variety of challenges including potentially violent movements with international implications. As Lapidus poits out, ‘to cope with these movements we cannot merely deplore, hate, or fear them. We must understand what they are trying to say and the conditions that give rise to them. While the strengths and dangers of these movements can easily be overestimated, and frequently are, their seriousness and unsettling long-term potential cannot be ignored’.[218] The threat of fundamentalism currently manifested in the Southern Mediterranean rim lies in the fact that many of its essential aspects represent a reaction to years of intolerable political and socio-economic conditions. In this sense, the fundamentalist threat is not merely a symptom of deeply rooted differences between the West and Islam, but also a means of responding to post-colonial pressures towards liberalisation, which is perceived as threatening the ‘inner cohesion’ of the Islamic tradition. In this context, religion is used to cover other deficits like economic, social, and political. More specifically, an alleged inferiority in self-perception, dissatisfaction in terms of social development, and the non-acceptance of an organisational and technocratic problem-solving capacity of ‘the other’ (the West).

It logically follows that that the creation and maintenance of a climate of meaningful and open dialogue in the Mediterranean is no easy task, especially when there is a tendency to fuel traditional prejudices by both sides. As long as misperceptions persist and differences are not tolerated, then the relationship between Islam and Europe will remain tense, providing an excuse, if not a fertile ground, for keeping sustainable co-operation out of reach. But it is worth recalling that ‘authentic Islam represents no threat and means no harm to Europe. In it one finds nothing that would justify hostility against it or the accusation that all Muslims are extremists and closed to dialogue’.[219] Accordingly, a new ‘hermeneutics of civilizational dialogue’[220] emanates as a praesumptio juris et de jure: a dialectic of cultural self-realisation through a reciprocal exchange based on a philosophy of mutual understanding, that does away with the subjectivist approach that wants the ‘West’ to act as a universal civilising force based on an almost metaphysical obligation to humanity.

 

3.3 Towards a Comprehensive Security Agenda

The cause of tension in Euro-Mediterranean relations can only be partially ascribed to politico-military factors or the resurgence of radical Islam. The multidimensional character of Mediterranean security necessitates a comprehensive approach to security, taking into account socio-economic and cultural factors, and thus moving away from simplistic and convenient diagnoses that overemphasise the military aspects of security. As Bin asserts, ‘many of the security-related concerns that have come to the fore in the region post-Cold War are non-military issues that may interact with more traditional security risks’.[221]

The new era has reactivated concern over the impact of the North-South divide on Mediterranean politics and society, itself part of the global debt problem.[222] Such a divide is determined by unequal economic development, a plurality of political regimes,  divergent perceptions of security threats, and changing patterns of demography. Ireland concurs: ‘From Turkey to Morocco, the risks of social destabilisation build, as intense demographic pressures overwhelm evaporating economic opportunities’.[223] Furthermore, the countries on the northern shore have an industrial output four times higher than that of their southern counterparts, and that they have achieved self-sufficiency in agriculture, while southern countries, despite attempts at agricultural reform and nation-wide modernisation, are constrained by the lack of equipment and by demographic pressures resulting in insufficient productivity and a structural deficit of food.[224]

Euro-Mediterranean affairs are affected by Europe’s dependence on oil and gas supplies. The Mediterranean represents the most important transport route (shipping and pipelines) for many industrial European countries, through which the bulk of their raw materials travel from the Gulf and the Black Sea. For a long time, it was believed that the Cold War implied a threat to security of raw material supplies, accompanied by a feeling that the Soviet Union’s policy towards the Arab world aimed at exposing the West to the danger of having its oil supplies from the Middle East cut off.[225] Post-1989, the main danger lies in Europe’s dependence on the Middle East as the main reservoir of crude oil, with 66% of world reserves and deliveries accounting for approximately 50% of total consumption.

Turning to issues of complex economic disparity, Joffé emphasises the importance of the North-South ontology of the Mediterranean linked to the rich-poor gap in the basin.[226] One can hardly select a better example within which a clearer dividing line exists between a rich(er) North and a poor(er) South. With the exception of Israel, all other non-European countries of the region suffer, inter alia, from low income, insufficient growth of GNP compared to their ever-increasing demographic growth, high inflation and unemployment, widespread illiteracy, and inadequate health services.[227] A further indication of complex economic inequality in the Mediterranean is the fact that ‘the total GDP of EU Mediterranean states in the North is eleven times greater than that of its southern littoral counterparts’.[228] In addition to the above comes Vasconcelos’s point that North African countries are heavily dependent on Europe for their external trade (circa 50-60%), and there is hardly any evidence to suggest that a process of economic integration has been set in train amongst them: ‘trade between neighbouring countries represents no more than a mere 3% of the total’.[229]

From the early 1960s to the mid-1980s, the southern Mediterranean outperformed all other regions of the world except East Asia, not only in income growth per capita, but also in the equality of income distribution. Improvements in social conditions were dramatic: life expectancy significantly increased (on average by 13 years), infant mortality rates were cut in half, primary school enrolments became virtually universal, and literacy among adults rose steadily. Southern Mediterranean governments were also effective in reducing poverty.[230] Since 1973, commercial relations between Europe and the Arab world have been determined by the variable of energy.[231] After the increase in oil prices in the early 1970s, the Middle Eastern and North African economies were greatly dependent on the export of oil and natural gas.[232]

In the 1980s, the slowdown of the earlier boom brought about a contraction of the Arab markets. Many Arab states became heavily indebted and were forced to undergo sharp economic adjustments. Moreover, with the decline of oil prices during the latter part of the 1980s most of the Arab economies came to a grinding halt. The worsening of socio-economic conditions in the Mediterranean as compared to other, less developed regions has become clear by the 1990s. A report published by the World Bank in October 1995 stated that, since the mid-1980s, the southern Mediterranean countries suffered the largest decline of real per capita income than any other developing region (approximately 2 percent annually), and a 0.2 percent annual decline in productivity.[233] As a response to these trends, the developing countries of the region accused the Europeans (and the wider West) of setting up and supporting a global economic system that works against their interests. From a historical perspective, such criticisms date back to colonial occupation and its powerful effects on the economic development of the Mediterranean south. Joffé explains: ‘The effects are most strikingly seen in the Maghreb, where the region’s integration into the French colonial sphere meant that economic structures were increasingly dedicated to serving the metropolitan market’.[234] On the whole, economic co-operation in the Mediterranean is limited as much by the fragmentation of the southern economies (especially since protracted conflicts constitute an obstacle to South-South economic relations), as by the absence of a coherent framework to manage North-South relations in a mutually advantageous manner.

Two undisputed features in the Euro-Mediterranean soft security agenda are demography and migration. The countries of North Africa - Mauritania, Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Egypt, and Libya - have at present a population of 120 million, but over the next 25 years it is estimated that their population will cross the threshold of 200 million. The population of northern Mediterranean countries, which in 1950 accounted for two-thirds of the total Mediterranean population, will fall to one-third by 2025, whereas on the southern shore of the basin, the growth rate is increasing rapidly. Yet, the crux of the problem lies in the age-differences between the populations of the two shores. If there are no major demographic changes, the European countries will experience an increased ageing of their populations in the next 30 or so years, while in the southern rim the section of the population under 15 years of age will continue to rise.[235] Among the major consequences of these fast-growing demographic trends will be a colossal demand for employment. This problem is compounded by the fact that labour supply in southern Mediterranean countries is lagging far behind the expected increase in the labour force seeking work. Just to absorb the young people entering the labour market, these countries would have to create more than 2.5 million jobs annually, that is, three times the present rate of job creation. Never before in the history of the Mediterranean have there been as many youngsters as today on its southern shores due to a robust and still in full swing demographic transition.[236] Should this market fails to absorb them, then it is easy to imagine the frustration this will generate, not to mention the accompanying levels of social protest and migratory pressures.[237] As long as the conditions for the development of North African economies are not in place, the only available option to a large section of their population will be to migrate to the more prosperous European countries, thus posing an additional challenge to regional stability.

Needed as cheap labour following World War II, the Arab-Muslim migrants in Western Europe have recently become a security issue.[238] Today, one easily identifies considerable migratory flows form ethnic communities that resist integration and/or assimilation to respective European host cultures, as some 6 million immigrants from the Maghreb alone reside in EU countries, mainly France, Italy, Spain, Greece, and far more in the new Mediterranean members of the EU, Malta and Cyprus. As this continues to occur in a period of heightening demographic fragility, immigration will continue to be seen as a major threat, leading to socially pathogenous phenomena such as intolerance, racism and xenophobia among a section of the host population. At a time when Europe is preoccupied with the perceived socio-economic and political consequences of foreign residents, one should not forget the valuable contribution of immigrants to Germany’s post-war ‘economic miracle’,[239] regarded at the time as a resource, rather than a threat. Today, however, the capacity of the European labour market to absorb growing migratory flows appears to be far more limited. Contributing to the above has been the ever-growing flows of refugees and immigrants from East European countries and the Balkans post-1989, not to mention additional currents of immigration from other troubled parts of the globe such as Black Africa, Asia, etc.

Determining an appropriate policy response to the movement of immigrants and asylum seekers across national boundaries is one of the key challenges confronting both individual European governments and the EU collectively. Recent trends have resulted in restrictive legislation on immigrants and refugees which, in Aliboni’s terms, comes in sharp contrast to the rationalist, democratic nature of modern European societies.[240] Collinson has also illustrated the profound influence of the migration question on the political and security agenda of the Mediterranean. Indeed, her book Shore to Shore demonstrates how EU policy toward the Maghreb has been increasingly defined by anxiety about the potential for rising immigration levels.[241] But even if Europe institutes new barriers to control the immigration inflow, critical questions remain as to the implementation of such measures, and the way and extent to which they will prove capable of discouraging potential immigrants from reaching Europe, without reinforcing fragmentation. In the existing patterns of North-South interaction, people (mainly through the media) see the extent to which their living conditions differ from those of their northern neighbours. But the media also bring to the European peoples themselves, stereotypical and negative images of the southern Mediterranean, fuelling hostility and mistrust toward the Arab world. This xenophobic and, more accurately, islamophobic trend serves to solidify the cultural divide across the Mediterranean. In Boutros-Ghali’s words: ‘Proximity in this case can only exacerbate differences’.[242]

Disparities in wealth within the Mediterranean are undermining the social pillars of support that sustained secular national orders and generate a creeping cultural radicalism towards rejection of the ‘other’.[243] But such disparities have also allowed for other problems to come to the fore. In particular, due to their weakness to respond to the new challenges, the Arab regimes use ‘regional nationalism’ as a means of perpetuating the status quo. Aliboni explains: ‘to sustain the goals of “regional nationalism” they will continue to divert resources towards military expenditure ... As a result they will make the achievement of basic conditions for consensus - economic and social development, and a more equitable distribution of income and resources - more difficult or unlikely’.[244] The collapse of the progressive pan-Arab regimes that, for the most part of the 1980s managed to keep radical religious trends under control, witnessed a resurgence of a popular Islamic radicalism in the early 1990s. As the majority of these countries have no tradition of political pluralism, their respective regimes attempted to cope authoritatively with the above through the employment of undemocratic practices, as in the cases of Algeria, Egypt, and Turkey. But this kind of esoteric instability has external repercussions too: since large numbers of immigrant workers from the southern Mediterranean reside in Europe, the possibilities of turmoil spilling over to the northern Mediterranean rim is far from fictitious, if not already a living reality in major European capitals. If the aforementioned alarming trends are followed by a deterioration of North-South relations along civilisational lines, and no drastic socio-economic and political reforms are introduced, then the prospects for political stability, economic prosperity and social progress in the Mediterranean will remain particularly bleak.

3.4 The Mediterranean Between and Within Europe and the US

For more than fifty years now, powers and forces that were either external or peripheral to the region have defined Mediterranean politics mainly in bipolar terms.[245] Since the end of World War II, European policies in the Middle East have been torn between Europe’s geographic contiguity, historical familiarity, and privileged trade links with the Middle East, and the ideological-strategic association with the US.[246] The end of the European era in the eastern Mediterranean begun in 1956 with the Suez debacle, sealing the fate of Europe’s marginal role in Middle East politics.[247] With such episodes, the Europeans surrendered the Mediterranean basin to the competing American and Soviet spheres of influence. Thereafter, and throughout the 1970s, the swiftness with which the superpowers initially supported their respective Mediterranean allies further exposed the lack of a substantive European influence. But even in the 1980s, when Europe begun to assert its role as an international (economic) actor, it did not embark on a competitive tussle with the superpowers over the Mediterranean, a situation that tacitly suited everyone. Peters explains: ‘By mirroring the stance taken by the Arabs, [the Community] effectively removed itself as a potential mediator between the two sides’.[248] As for Europe’s ‘civilian power’ image, it failed to project a common Mediterranean approach. By looking inward to strengthen its internal arrangements by reforming its institutions,[249] the Community managed to play down security alliances in the region.

Although soon after the end of the Cold War the US and Europe had strikingly common global interests, such a convergence began to fade by the mid-1990s. For instance, the US-EU dispute over the extraterritorial application of US laws (unilateral US sanctions against Libya, Iran and Cuba) is a good case in point.[250] In relation to the Mediterranean, Aliboni asserts that ‘the changing Mediterranean environment is de facto encapsulated by two different international contexts with different priorities, responsibilities and efficacies: on the one hand, the Mashreq, where the US is strongly committed both politically and militarily, with the EU playing only a secondary role in the economic field; on the other, the Maghreb, where the EU is the dominant, if not sole, actor’.[251] But as Holmes argues, this arrangement is far from perfect, as it does not accurately reflect the interests and capabilities of both international actors.[252] Although transatlantic co-operation is central to Mediterranean stability, this does not necessarily apply in the case of the Middle East, where Europe and the US do not seem to be pursuing common strategies, as they do in the European theatre. As Khalilzad notes, the policies pursued by the transatlantic partners towards this unstable region are slipping close to rivalry, a situation that could not only hurt the US-European alliance itself, but could also provide an opening for the rise of hostile regional powers like Iran.[253] On this issue, Marr warns that, if these differences are not handled carefully by the transatlantic partners, they could impair NATO’s ability ‘to take concerted out-of-area action when necessary ... making diplomatic efforts increasingly contentious and ineffective’.[254]

Lesser defines three dimensions in relation to US interests in the Mediterranean: a response to change and crisis in the region; an extension of the American commitment to European security; and a determination of US policy towards the lessening of Middle East tension.[255] But the US lacks an integrated view of the problems confronting the Mediterranean space,[256] although its post-Cold war objectives in Europe have displayed a degree of continuity: to secure European support for US actions outside Western Europe, and to avoid increased financial and/or military obligations. Not only fiscal pressures in the US have made the latter objective more important than before and have reinforced US interest in EU initiatives for greater burden-sharing in global security management. But it would be an illusion to believe that a safe alternative currently exists to sustained US military capability to protect vital US (oil) interests in the Middle East.

Currently, the EU faces significant difficulties in assuming a substantive security role in the Mediterranean, not least due to the evident US reluctance to share its regional initiatives, as in the Middle East Peace Process,[257] with European frustration growing not only by the lack of progress in the Arab-Israeli talks, but also by Washington’s near-monopoly position on diplomatic action.[258] US emphasis on Israel’s strategic interests jeopardises EU efforts towards the resolution of the Arab-Israeli conflict. Köchler writes: ‘Europe is playing virtually no political role in Palestine, being merely “tolerated” in acting as paymaster for social and economic development projects in the occupied and “autonomous” Palestinian territories’.[259] In Gordon’s view, two scenarios seem possible. As long as the Arab–Israeli Peace Process is moving forward, the US is probably right that Europe’s formal involvement in direct peace talks would not be helpful, all the more so if such a role aims at promoting policies different from those initiated by the US. But if the Peace Process stalls completely, it will be difficult for the US not to justify a more active European role in the politics of this troubled region.[260]

Regarding Europe’s strategic interests in the Middle East, any political interference by the US - itself a party to regional conflicts - is at least counterproductive. But leaving the Mediterranean to European hands alone is too unrealistic an option, given the stakes involved.[261] As Hollis put it: ‘Europe certainly lacks a distinct and unified military capability and in this respect cannot challenge the United State’s role’.[262] Although the EU has furthered the scope and level of ‘ever closer union’, it still depends on US leadership, since it has so far proved delinquent in addressing effectively security and defence issues in the Mediterranean. At the same time, Holmes comments, the US ‘will not escape the impact of negative consequences should that time bomb blow up’.[263] In any case, Snyder argues, a US exit from the Mediterranean would make practically impossible the craft of a credible regional security structure.[264] Therefore, Europe and its Atlantic partner should co-ordinate their Mediterranean policies and agendas. EU partners should encourage littoral countries to adopt democratic policies and develop a strategy to address the deep roots of existing conflicts, whilst NATO must assume a role in creating military confidence by revising initiatives like the anti-ballistic missile project and modernisation plans that generate fear and mistrust in the Arab countries.[265] But a common US-European approach towards the Mediterranean depends not only on the willingness and capabilities of the EU to assume greater responsibilities, but also on the preparedness of the US to share global governance and join in a genuine partnership.[266]

 

North-South and South-South European Dimensions

Gillespie suggests that the North/South European dimension must be considered in any analysis of EU Mediterranean policy, for it provides a potential fault-line along which European disunity could develop.[267] Post-1989 Euro-Mediterranean developments are followed closely by the EU’s southern members, something that cannot be said about their northern partners. Intra-European controversy is not about having a Mediterranean policy or not, but about methods, priorities and interests.[268] The EU’s economic interests in the southern Mediterranean are comparatively unimportant in relation to other geographical areas. In particular, the EU’s prospective enlargement has produced so far a set of dynamic policies toward its eastern periphery, in contradistinction to a rather vague Mediterranean orientation. As Kaminski notes, a further Mediterranean enlargement is not an option to solve the regional ‘security vacuum’ and will therefore concentrate mainly on Eastern European candidates.[269]

A related issue that currently challenges the formation of the new European order is that there is no homogeneous European political space linked to the maintenance of international security. The EU lacks a common perspective in tackling Mediterranean issues. Historically, European powers have expressed interest in different parts of the Mediterranean: France towards the Maghreb, Britain towards the Middle East, and Germany towards Turkey and the Balkans. Thus, however attractive the general thesis of indivisibility of security may be, Europe is not one, but many, in terms of the security-related status of its component parts.[270] It is also certain that in an enlarged and ever diverse EU, the differences involved in the making of a common European policy towards the Mediterranean will be made even more acute. After enlargement, one of the tasks of the Union’s Foreign and Security Policy will be to develop policies that will not create a sense of exclusion in its peripheries. The EU’s geopolitical role will much depend on whether it will maintain its ‘civilian’[271] character as an open and peaceful power, or whether it will be seen by outsiders as a closed or hostile club.[272]

Different perceptions of interest persist about the EU’s relations with the Mediterranean among its southern members themselves. The latter, although they share some identifiable elements of a common identity, these are not strong enough to be reflected in permanent and structured political solidarity.[273] Southern EU members have not yet formed a cohesive block in relation to the EU’s eastwards enlargement and, even more so, with regards to the future of the EU itself.[274] Especially France, Spain and Italy bring Mediterranean issues to the fore of the EU’s agenda, for they traditionally maintain a plethora of strong ties with the countries of the region. As Veremis put it, the proximity of Portugal, Spain and Italy to North Africa and the common borders of Greece and Italy with the troubled Balkans, helps explain each country’s regional line of work.[275] Although France is generally seen as the ‘champion’ of EU Mediterranean interests, it has displayed a rather ‘inchoate strategy’ towards parts of the Mediterranean (e.g., Algeria). Moreover, countries like Spain and Italy are not willing to accept a French leadership in the formulation of the EU’s Mediterranean policy.[276] Another contradiction is that, while those three countries play an active role in setting the EU’s Mediterranean agenda, smaller countries like Greece face in a more direct manner the potential tidal waves of regional instability.

European ambitions for a stable and prosperous Mediterranean have been mainly promoted outside the framework of the EU, in the form of different state-led initiatives for regional co-operation like the CSCM, the Mediterranean Forum, etc. Mediterranean anxieties are clearly reflected in demands by southern EU members for increased financial and political support to southern Mediterranean countries. Such interest has resulted in a substantial increase in financial assistance from France, Spain and Italy.[277] But redirecting the EU’s external focus is no easy task, given that its two largest members (Britain and Germany) are adamant that economic assistance should be aiming primarily at the reconstruction of the Central and Eastern European economies to reinforce their accession process.[278] Whatever the endgame of the EU’s eastward enlargement may be, simple geography dictates that the EU remains essentially a ‘northern-central European entity’ in which Mediterranean states are a minority.[279]

The effectiveness of EU security policy depends on striking a balance between the competing visions its members have about European security. Still, differences in the formulation of separate foreign policy initiatives reveal that southern EU members and applicant countries have not yet found a reliable modus operandi for strengthening the EU’s Mediterranean dimension. But the geographical diversity of preferences among EU states does not necessarily mean that no cohesive position can emerge.[280] For instance, Tanner asserts, ‘the fate of the Mediterranean Pact will heavily depend on the EU members’ capability to take a common stance with regard to the Mediterranean’.[281] Such a stance should not be merely based on common strategic orientations and co-ordinated action, but also on the development of mutual trust among all actors involved. Nonetheless, a co-ordinated pressure by all Mediterranean actors will prove decisive should issues of Mediterranean security are ever to become an integral part of the EU project.

Having examined the properties of systemic complexity in the Mediterranean, we can now turn to examine the patterns of relations in the emerging Euro-Mediterranean regime, taking into account past European policies towards the Mediterranean, the launching of the Barcelona Process, and the dynamics of its evolution. The study will then conceptualises the emerging Euro-Mediterranean system though the lenses of international organisation, capturing the post-1995 trends in institutionalised governance and transformation from ‘policy’ to ‘regime’.

 

3.5 The Barcelona Declaration and the Euro-Mediterranean Partnership

On 27 November 1995, at a Conference organised by the Spanish Presidency of the EU in Barcelona, the European Commission, the Foreign Ministers of the 15 EU member states and 12 Mediterranean partner-countries (Algeria, Morocco, Tunisia, Egypt, Israel, Jordan, Syria, Lebanon, Turkey, Palestinian Authority, Cyprus, and Malta) signed a complex agreement designed to promote peace, stability and prosperity in the region. All southern EU states were particularly active, but at the supranational level it was the Commission that influenced the agenda, whereas the contribution of the EP was limited due to its restrictive decision-making powers.[282] It is worth noting that the EU’s position at the Barcelona Conference was in marked contrast to the other states of the region that lacked a collective common position.[283] The political aims of the EMP were not extensively discussed at Barcelona to avoid the controversy that would have arisen from drawing attention to the democratic deficit in the Middle East.[284] ‘For the moment, we provide the only forum where the Arab countries and Israel, can sit together and discuss their different problems,’ said an EU diplomat, adding that ‘there is great value in being able to do that’. Others, like Dumont, the secretary-general of the Brussels-based Parliamentary Association for Euro-Arab co-operation, were more critical: ‘For us the most important weakness is that Libya has still not been invited to join in. When you talk about issues like security, it makes no sense to leave out Libya’.[285]

Libya was excluded from the Conference because of the UN sanctions imposed on it over the Lockerbie affair. According to Köchler, ‘this has unfortunately led to a situation in which the Maghreb “remains unintegrated and disintegrated when facing the European Union [and] the Barcelona process”’.[286] It is a well-established fact that the majority of EU countries are in favour of normalising their relations with Libya, whose exclusion from the EMP is yet another proof of the overwhelming US influence on both regional and global EU policies. Yet, during the preparation of the Conference, the EU did all it could to prevent its transatlantic partner from participating. The Americans saw the EU’s involvement in the region as a direct invasion of European diplomacy to an area traditionally located within their sphere of influence. ‘This is the beginning of the end of American domination of the region’, confirmed Riad al Khouri.[287] But all the participants in Barcelona stressed that, while the new initiative was not intended to replace other regional initiatives, it would undoubtedly contribute to their success.[288] In the end, however, no operational political role was foreseen for the EMP in the ongoing Middle East Peace Process, although it was hoped that it could mark a positive impact at a general economic level.

From a pragmatic view, the founding Euro-Mediterranean Conference managed to bring Israeli and Syrian representatives at the same table, something inconceivable for any previous Mediterranean initiative. As Khouri put it: ‘The participation of the two Arab countries gives the meeting a degree of legitimacy that the MENA did not enjoy’.[289] A contributing factor was the euphoria from the considerable progress achieved in Oslo during the Middle East multilateral negotiations.[290] In an atmosphere of ‘high hopes and low motives’,[291] the Barcelona Conference became the ‘launching pad’[292] for a regional process aiming at the preservation of peace and stability, the setting up of a shared zone of prosperity through the creation of a free trade area, and the promotion of structured dialogue among distinct culturally defined and politically organised units.

The Barcelona Declaration does not represent a historical turning point in Euro-Mediterranean relations, as its main objective was not regional integration, at least as understood in the context of the EU system. Yet, the document adopted in Barcelona introduced a new spirit of equal and comprehensive co-operation in three areas: i) political and security; ii) economic and financial; iii) and socio-cultural. These fields were structured into three respective ‘baskets’ - along the lines of the1975 Helsinki Final Act - each containing specific proposals that could lead to a genuine regional process. The Declaration also contained a follow-up procedure. Drawing from the final document, the participating states were ‘resolved to establish a multilateral and lasting framework of relations based on a spirit of partnership, with due regard for he characteristics, values and distinguishing features peculiar to each of the participants’.[293]

 

The Political Basket

According to Jűnemann, although the political basket specifies measures for enhancing regional peace and stability, ‘it avoids concrete commitments in political and security co-operation’ due to the incoherence of interests between the EU and its Mediterranean partners.[294] Yet, the partners stressed their conviction that Mediterranean peace, stability and security are common assets that should be promoted and strengthened ‘by all means at their disposal’. They also agreed to respect human rights, fundamental freedoms, diversity, pluralism and the rule of law, and recognised ‘the right of each of them to choose and freely develop its own political, socio-cultural, economic and judicial system’. To that end, they agreed to conduct a political dialogue at regular intervals based on observance of the essential principles of international law, while reaffirming various common objectives in matters of internal and external stability.[295]

In a declaration of principles, the partners undertook a number of shared commitments that, given Mediterranean complexity, seem far-reaching. The participants considered within the first basket practical steps to prevent the proliferation of nuclear, chemical and biological weapons, as well as the excessive accumulation of conventional arms in the region. They have also agreed to refrain from developing military capabilities beyond their legitimate defence requirements in order to build mutual confidence. However, some south EU countries tried to make sure that the Barcelona Declaration would not venture into the deep Mediterranean waters of ‘hard’ security. Linked to the latter objective is the necessity to promote and sustain good-neighbourly relations.

The basket also contained a mandate for a region-specific security arrangement to consider confidence and security-building measures as means for the creation of an ‘Area of Peace and Stability’, including the long-term objective of adopting a Euro-Mediterranean Charter. During the Barcelona Conference, both France and Malta have tabled proposals for a Euro-Mediterranean Charter. The French proposal draws from the Stability Pact as originated in the Balladur Plan and adopted as a Joint Action under the CFSP. The French proposal also sees the Euro-Mediterranean Charter as an exercise in preventive diplomacy providing a framework for a political and security-related dialogue. The proposal does not represent an arrangement dealing with current conflicts in the region, but rather as the basis for a future regional security architecture. Designed to provide a platform for promoting voluntary and politically binding commitments, the French proposal did not foresee the creation of new mechanisms and institutions, but aimed at building on the experience of existing organisations. On its part, the Maltese proposal highlighted the need to create a pan-Mediterranean security system to promote regional political dialogue, including the creation of mechanisms with operational capability to crisis-management and conflict-prevention. As Tanner observes, both proposals reflect the need to give a clearer framework of action to the ambitious objectives that were set up within the first basket of the Barcelona Declaration.[296]

The political and security dialogue launched in Barcelona is one of the EMP’s most promising elements, representing an entirely new experiment in Euro-Mediterranean relations. As Aliboni asserts, the first basket is an innovative and light mechanism, in that it is not linked to specific objectives, but is instead directed to the broad task of political consultation.[297] But the envisaged security partnership envisaged is no easy task, for it has to reconcile long-term goals with the contingencies of everyday politics in a fragmented and volatile region.[298] Another reason is that the EMP does not presently offer the necessary institutions to deal with regional complexity. Important problems remain like the ‘EU-centric character’ of the EMP, which has not been endowed with its own Secretariat. Rather, it is the Commission that acts as the de facto Secretariat. Besides, the Senior Officials’ Committee is chaired by the EU Presidency. As Edwards and Philippart note, the non-institutionalisation of the dialogue among the Senior Officials, ‘... has been surrounded by an air of deliberative vagueness, largely because of sensitivities created by the Arab-Israeli conflict and the peace process’.[299] Such arrangements exacerbate the southern partners’ sense of estrangement from the EMP by confirming that it is less attuned to their security needs than to those of the EU.[300]

The Barcelona document sought to encourage the application of the principles of ‘good governance’ - i.e., the encouragement of democratic values, respect for universal human rights norms, etc. - and the promotion of collective security arrangements as a means of Partnership Building Measures (PBMs). Although democratic principles are crucial to the Barcelona Process, PBMs have received greater attention.[301] But the complexity of protracted conflicts like the Arab-Israeli one, and the misperception of threats at both sides of the Mediterranean constrain the implementation PBMs in ‘hard’ security issues. The same goes for the establishment of conflict-prevention mechanisms with minimal capacity to intervene on real or potential conflict situations. Thus, ‘[any] confidence-building process of the Partnership and its attendant CBMs must have a prevailingly non-military nature and, whenever related in some way to military factors, they must have a slowly- or non-evolutive character’.[302] To borrow again from Tanner: ‘the only chance of the Mediterranean Pact to assume an effective role is to focus on soft security co-operation and to pursue an incremental policy of crisis prevention that is closely linked to the economic Euro-Med partnership’.[303] As Echeravia argues, however, the principle that the EMP is indivisible - a full partnership - constitutes a CBM in itself, since recognition of parity has never existed among Euro-Mediterranean partners.[304]

 

The Economic Basket

The economic and financial basket of the Barcelona Declaration was the most detailed basket of the Barcelona document. In it, the partners fixed three long term objectives: to speed sustainable social and economic development; to improve living conditions by increasing employment and closing the development gap in the region; and to promote co-operation and regional integration. But the major issue agreed by the partners is to set up a target date for the establishment of the Mediterranean Free Trade Area (MEFTA) by the year 2010.[305] The latter objective, which was considered as the main drive of the EU’s initiative, is to be achieved through a process of economic transition and financial assistance from the EU to relieve the southern Mediterranean countries of their debt burden and develop the private sectors. The document also called for the complete liberalisation of manufactured products through the elimination of quantitative and qualitative trade barriers. Such a liberalisation strategy is expected to lead to an increased awareness of market potential among Mediterranean partners.

The free trade area is not an end in itself, but rather a means intended to diminish socio-economic disparities, promote regional co-operation, accelerate sustainable development, and facilitate the integration of southern Mediterranean economies into the global economy. In an attempt to reduce the socio-economic gap between the two Mediterranean shores, Commission proposals included the improvement of social services, especially in urban areas, the harmonious development of rural areas, the development of fisheries, and environmental protection. In the same context, the Commission will take steps to the development of human resources. One of the key issues here is technical assistance to reduce illegal immigration. The Commission also intends to offer its expertise to combat the new forms of insecurity, most notably drug trafficking, terrorism, and international crime. As regards regional integration, the Commission planed to supply appropriate technical assistance for the creation of co-operative structures and to finance the development of infrastructures essential for increased intra-regional trade, especially in transportation, communications, and energy.

The economic rationale behind MEFTA is relatively easy to state: the EU, a large unit of some 400 million inhabitants, can only progress and prosper within a stable Euro-Mediterranean space - MEFTA will consist of approximately 700 million people - with which prosperity can be shared. South Mediterranean countries are currently in urgent need of substantial institutional policy reforms and public capital flows to boost their economic performance both at a regional and world scale, where integration has become imperative to transcend the challenges of globalisation. There is, however, an obvious asymmetry between EU policies towards Central and East European countries, and towards the Mediterranean, where sub-regional integration and intra-regional co-operation largely depend on the development of the Arab-Israeli peace negotiations, and on the success of economic reform. In tandem, however, south Mediterranean countries have been engaged in a sensitive but necessary process of domestic political reform.

It was also agreed that the EU would negotiate with most Mediterranean partners new Association Agreements with the view to establishing, albeit bilaterally, an industrial free trade area within a time-specific framework. The rationale is to improve the synergy of economic competition across the Euro-Mediterranean space. This is why Jűnemann claims that multilateralism in the Barcelona Declaration was merely added to the traditional ‘bilateral concept’ of Euro-Mediterranean relations.[306] As Minasi put it, ‘... the new system is not really multilateral, rather it is bi-multilateral, whereas it is negotiated between a multilateral entity – the EU - and single partner countries, encouraging fragmentation. Considering that trade among partner countries is a mere 5% of their total external trade, the unusual fact is going to happen that there will be a free trade area based on bilateral rather than multilateral exchanges, and where intense North-South exchanges are not matched by relevant South-South trade’.[307]

According to the Declaration, trade in agriculture will be liberalised only ‘as far as the various agricultural policies allow’, which means that real free trade may have to wait until the EU reforms its cash-draining CAP system of domestic subsidies. As Tsoukalis highlights, ‘free access to industrial exports does not mean a great deal if there is little to export, as it is the case for most of the Mediterranean partners’.[308] This is also why Wolf has argued that the EU’s approach to Euro-Mediterranean economic integration is ‘Janus-faced’, for it combines ‘liberalism within and mercantilism without’.[309]

The new Association Agreements have two key components: the gradual introduction of free trade in the remarkably short period of 15 years, as a vehicle towards greater competitiveness; and the parallel financial and technical support to economic reform, as vehicles towards institutional and policy reform. The 12 Mediterranean countries would not be left alone to deal with the consequences of transition. Flexible patterns of economic support are available from the EU, in what is often referred to as ‘the tool box approach’. By the latter is meant that it is not compulsory to use all policy instruments, but only those that are thought to be more adapted to a country’s needs.[310] The year 2010 was decided for the completion of such individual free trade agreements. Each Association Agreement is a specific case and thus individual timetables leading to free trade should not, for the purpose of being accepted in WTO (an absolute requirement for the EU), exceed 12 years. Accordingly, complete free trade will only be achieved when the last transitional period of the last agreement entered into force will be terminated. By that time, however, trade barriers among the 12 southern Mediterranean partners would make no sense and a strong incentive would have been established amongst them for direct free trade arrangements.

Due to the considerable economic strains of meeting the MEFTA objective,[311] the southern Mediterranean economies would have to undergo a lengthy transition period. Any partner entering this process will have to deal with the necessary fiscal reforms (less revenue from tariff duties and more from value added-related taxes), with the need for a strong economic environment conducive to private investment (a functioning financial sector, an adequate legislative environment for business, a proper judicial system as well as patent laws), and with the need for an efficient class of entrepreneurs and businesses (given the quality requirements and the competitiveness of the European market).[312] Also, in most cases, they will have to create a leaner and more efficient state to deal promptly with the social requirements of any modern polity. This means that some inefficient sectors might have to be restructured or even phased out. Similarly, the agricultural sector might have to undergo some serious restructuring, especially when it comes to meeting the EU’s quality standards like product quality, packaging norms, etc.

The regulatory package of MEFTA implies that the partners have to make a pragmatic judgement whether the benefits in the short and medium term outweigh the drawbacks, and whether their future option is to remain free from collective market regulation or, conversely, to participate in the making of a regional trading space.[313] In a 1997 EuroMeSCo report it was predicted that the medium- and long-term effects of creating the MEFTA would be positive, as they will trigger economic growth and active integration into the international trade system, thus boosting the job market. In the short-term, however, measures will have to be taken in order to lower the social cost of the transition period. The general conclusion is that, without palliative measures, the creation of MEFTA will have adverse short-term effects on the states’ budgets, as well as on the social situation, because of the immediacy of adjustment costs.[314] Although the MEFTA objective has been conceived without fully considering its consequences, and although it restricts free trade only to some products, it can encourage growth on both shores of the Mediterranean, provided that the EU is adequately involved in the funding of structural change in the South, and that partner countries agree to improve domestic policies and to integrate their economies reciprocally.[315] Khader notes that the economic basket makes the EMP’s success imperative, otherwise the 12 Mediterranean partners will be left either in economic isolation and impoverishment, or will have to struggle in a disorganised way with savage economic restructuring.[316]

Overall EU support for economic transition currently represents an active pipeline of over ECU 650 million, to which should be added the loans secured by the EIB. On an average commitment basis, EU financing in the Mediterranean area is worth ECU 1700 million per year from the EU’s budget and the EIB’s resources. The MEDA programme is the principal financial instrument of the EU for the implementation of the EMP.[317] It accounts for ECU 3424.5 million out of a total ECU 4685 million for the period 1995-1999. Webb defined the funding priorities for the MEDA programme as follows: i) support to economic transition: the aim is to prepare for the implementation of free trade through increasing competitiveness, with a view to achieving sustainable economic growth, in particular through the development of the private sector; ii) strengthening the socio-economic balance: the aim is to alleviate the short-term costs of economic transition through appropriate measures in the field of social policy; and iii) regional co-operation: the aim is to complement pre-existing bilateral activities through measures to increase exchanges at the regional level.[318]

The economic agenda, and particularly the MEFTA objective, poses serious challenges to the south Mediterranean partners, for it will expose them to EU-standards of competition without providing any additional significant market. As Aliboni put it, ‘one may wonder why they accepted it’.[319] The answer is threefold. First, forces of both globalisation and liberalisation of the world economy today confront any country in the world in an organised and orderly manner. In the age of ‘casino capitalism’, sound macro-economic policies and industrial competitiveness are factors that determine most the overall performance, economic or otherwise, of any country.[320] These are issues that the Mediterranean countries would have to come to terms with irrespective of the EMP. Second, if any Mediterranean partner wishes to reinforce its economic strength, mobilise national savings, and attract foreign investment and technological know-how (and, as rarely is the case, know-why), then it must prepare itself for tough competition with other parts of the globe that also aim at a better share of the European market. To compete, the Mediterranean states must implement more far-reaching liberalisation, privatisation, and deregulation.[321] Third, if any littoral state accepts that some form of institutional economic and policy reform is necessary, then better do it with its major economic partner, the EU, securing financial and technical support, rather than in a disorganised and uncontrolled manner burdened by additional external constraints such as pressures on exchange rates or the balance of payments, rising debt service, etc.

 

The Socio-Cultural Basket

Anne-Charlotte Bournoville, the Commission’s official in charge of culture, audio-visual and information within the EMP, when asked to describe the nature of the socio-cultural partnership, commented that ‘... although the Mediterranean’s foremost product over thousands of years has been culture, cultural co-operation at Euro-Mediterranean level was a ground-breaker for the Barcelona Conference. Therefore, the fact that culture was included among the areas of co-operation is a mini-revolution in itself. In practice, this means that in 1995 people were not used to working together at the Euro-Mediterranean level and there was little experience at the Community level of dealing with issues of this nature’.[322]

The aim of the Social, Cultural and Human basket is wide-ranging and ambitious, granting Non-Governmental Organisations (NGOs) and civil society representatives a significant role in EMP affairs. As Colas argued: ‘the incorporation of civil society into the Barcelona process is a clear case of international regime formation, which seeks to respond to changes of intergovernmental elitism’.[323] Linkages and networks between civil societies in the Mediterranean may lay the foundation for mutual knowledge, understanding and confidence, which are vital in the construction of the Euro-Mediterranean space. Co-operation among northern and southern Mediterranean civil societies should not take the form of ‘assistance’ or the imposition of the Western model. Rather, a real partnership should incorporate the component civil societies in political decision-making and also take into account their particularities and values. A crucial point here is that the transformation of the Euro-Mediterranean order may well depend on the strengthening of civil societies, but this has to be done in co-operation with the states concerned. Otherwise, as Benaboud warns, ‘confrontation between civil society and the state will fail to build viable social and political projects’.[324]

The Barcelona Declaration underlined that ‘the reinforcement of democracy and respect for human rights’, are indeed the essential elements of the entire project. But co-operation in these areas is also the most sensitive dimension of the EMP, not least because the debate on democracy and human rights in the Mediterranean (among other principles of good governance) is linked to the debate on identity and civilisational interaction. Certain sectors of North African and Middle Eastern public opinion suspect that the West wants to impose its civilisation and hegemony under the guise of universal democratic principles, whilst in the North, in parallel to the rise of racism and xenophobia, the preconceived idea that there is an intrinsic incompatibility between Islam and democracy has developed at both grassroots and elite levels.[325] As Fahmy points out, ‘potential differences may emerge in the various conceptions regarding basic principles as democracy and human rights, and the only way that such differences will be resolved is through a cultural dialogue to reconcile the contending interpretations surrounding these concepts’.[326] The EMP involves bringing the peoples of Europe and the Mediterranean closer, promoting shared understandings, eliminating discomforting stereotypes and, in brief, projecting positive images. Such a ‘pro-active’ approach encounters the well-known islamophobic Clash of Civilizations. The means for bringing the EMP partners closer together rest on an inter-cultural hermeneutic dialogue in a wide range of areas such as cultural heritage, media, dialogue among religions, etc.

The third basket highlights common roots (as part of a common experience) as well as the richness of Mediterranean cultural diversity, doing away with negative pre-conceptions. But building the cultural partnership is a delicate process due to the difficulties in establishing a constructive dialogue among different civilisations, especially if such dialogue has to transcend images from the region’s colonial past, feelings of intolerance and xenophobia, as well as a narrow view of national identity. An additional obstacle may be that any cultural dialogue implies cultural exchanges and mobility that are not always easy to achieve in the southern rim. In light of the above, what is needed is a new hermeneutics of North-South perceptions together with the inclusion of religious and cultural rights in the debate on democracy and modernity. Although the socio-cultural dimension is often projected as being of secondary importance to the politico-economic dimensions of the EMP, the view taken here is that it is potentially the most revolutionary outcome of the regional process. It is a recognition that trade, investment, and economic assistance are part of a wider evolutionary process that incorporates a substantive human dimension. In fact, after making obligatory references to ‘dialogue and respect among cultures and religions’ as ‘a necessary precondition for bringing peoples closer’, the socio-cultural basket goes on to identify the need for a programme of human exchanges between the two Mediterranean shores, whilst including the utilisation and development of human resources in the region. In addition, it touches upon the sensitive issues of illegal immigration,[327] organised crime and drugs trafficking, as well as on co-operation between local government authorities, trade unions, and public and private companies. Finally, the Declaration recognised the future challenges posed by the demographic trends in southern Mediterranean and declared that these should be counterbalanced by appropriate policy measures to advance social progress and economic development.

 

The Follow Up Mechanism

The Declaration finally included an appendix offering a follow-up procedure in various sectors at various levels for implementation purposes. Progress towards the aims of the Declaration, as well as the definition of new aims and activities, is governed by the annual meetings of Foreign Affairs Ministers. The Barcelona Process also consists of ad hoc Ministerial Conferences for different portfolios (industry, energy, etc.) and thematic fields (the information society, local management of water, etc.). Conferences are also arranged on an ad hoc basis for senior officials and experts as well as representatives of civil society and parliamentarians. A Euro-Mediterranean Committee was thus established consisting of officials from the EU Troika (the previous, current, and next Council Presidencies) and from all southern Mediterranean states. The Committee should meet regularly and report to the Foreign Ministers who are also to meet periodically to review progress in the implementation of agreed principles and to reach consensus on actions that would further promote the objectives of the EMP. Waites and Stavridis note: ‘This was a substantial advance on earlier experiments in Mediterranean cooperation which had little follow up and depended for progress on constant ministerial action’.[328] But as Edwards and Philippart point out, no ‘Barcelona Secretariat’ as such was established. They explain: ‘The Barcelona Declaration designated “the Commission departments”: to undertake the “appropriate” preparatory and follow-up work for meetings resulting from the Barcelona Work Programme and from the conclusions of the Euro-Med Committee - a somewhat odd designation given the fairly general use of the term directorates-general and even, perhaps, suggestive of a degree of fragmentation or segmentation within the Commission’.[329]

The inclusion of a follow-up procedure provides assurance for the ‘continuity’ of the process placing the EMP in a position to be considered as a pragmatic mechanism for regional co-operation. But both structural and institutional analyses of the EMP’s decision-making procedures come to an important conclusion: the term ‘Partnership’ does not reflect the substance of the actual Euro-Mediterranean relationship. Aliboni makes the point well: ‘It is in fact not really a partnership (i.e. a relationship between equal parties), but the aggregation of the non-EU Mediterranean partners to the Union’s institutions of political co-operation in a satellite status’.[330] Or, as Monar argues, the Partnership suffers more from a gap between its apparent potential to act and its actual performance: ‘this discrepancy can be explained in part by the particular institutional and procedural constrains of the Union’s “dual” system of foreign affairs’.[331]

 

3.6 The Evolution of the Barcelona Process

Within the Work Programme of the Barcelona Declaration it was decided that Senior Officials would meet periodically, starting within the first quarter of 1996, to conduct a political and security dialogue, and to examine appropriate means for implementing the Barcelona principles. Five meetings were held in 1996 in the above context. Although the results were somewhat weak, in general, progress was steady despite numerous political problems, especially in the Middle East Peace Process. In particular, progress was achieved in three areas, where the senior officials decided to set up: i) a list of PBMs such as the network of foreign policy institutes (EuroMeSco)[332] and the mechanism for co-operation in the event of natural and human disasters;[333] ii) a regularly updated Action Plan to serve as a blueprint for the group’s work, covering six sectors of activity: strengthening of democracy, preventive diplomacy, security and confidence-building measures, disarmament, terrorism and organized crime; and iii) a Euro-Mediterranean Charter for Peace and Stability to serve as an institutional mechanism for dialogue and crisis-prevention and to enhance co-operation in the political basket.[334] However, as EuroMeSco itself recognised, for these tasks to be accomplished, efficient decision-making mechanisms and procedures are needed.[335]

In its communication to the Council and the EP, the Commission indicated the priorities of the Second Euro-Mediterranean Ministerial Conference that was agreed to take place in 1997. After reviewing the first 15 months of the EMP and the state of negotiations in the Association Agreements with the 12 Mediterranean partners, the Commission suggested several objectives for future co-operation.[336] More specifically, it proposed a Euro-Mediterranean Charter for Peace and Stability to endorse the achievements of the political and security dialogue, while on the economic and financial front it considered measures to encourage free trade a particular priority. On the question of social, cultural and human affairs, the Commission reported that efforts had already begun in the spheres of cultural heritage, promotion of human rights, education, and dialogue among civil societies, and that these efforts should be further intensified along with the introduction of measures to combat drugs-traffic and organised crime.

After the Barcelona Declaration, the whole process moved forward by a series of new Euro-Mediterranean Association Agreements that updated and enhanced the previous bilateral arrangements agreed under the terms of the GMP and the RMP. In addition to the Customs Union with Turkey, Association Agreements were signed with Jordan, Israel, the Palestinian Authority, Morocco, and Tunisia,[337] while close to completion were agreements with Egypt and Algeria. Licari argues that ‘the agreements are likely to need a serious reappraisal by the forth or fifth year of their life’; otherwise, ‘two-way trade will probably increase to the EU’s advantage’.[338] These agreements were not, however, genuine free trade area agreements, of the kind enjoyed by Israel or Turkey. Nor did they come close the common economic space arrangements enjoyed by the EFTA countries. But the idea of using the Barcelona Process as a springboard for strengthening co-operation among southern Mediterranean partners has not been particularly profitable, since such co-operation remained at a very limited level. This has been associated with the worsening of the Arab-Israeli relations and the consequent upheaval among the Arabs, following Netanyahu’s election in June 1996. Joffé notes: ‘He, together with his Likud and conservative allies, has systematically undermined the Oslo Process and has been tacitly supported in his efforts by the pusillanimous attitude of the United States’.[339] Furthermore, to increase international pressure on Israel and the US, some Arab states, reminiscent of the Euro-Arab Dialogue, have pushed during the Malta Conference for a European-track of the Middle East Peace Process.

Although a certain commonality of interests exists between Europe and the US, the Middle East Peace Process and the Barcelona Process can be interpreted as competitive projects.[340] The exclusion of the US from the EMP, thus giving the EU a predominant role in the Barcelona Process, prompted Washington to consider the EU’s initiative as irrelevant in the construction of regional peace in the Middle East. Instead, US policy-makers placed their trust in the Middle East Peace Process - as initiated in Madrid in 1991 and as modified by the Oslo Accords in 1993 - and in the concomitant Middle East and North Africa economic summit process that begun in Rabat in 1994.[341] But keeping the US out of the EMP was of importance given the previous experience of containing the US presence in Europe (e.g., Bosnia).[342] On the other hand, this mutual exclusion among the transatlantic partners can be regarded as a potentially significant problem obstructing the Barcelona Process from bearing full fruit. This is clearly reflected in the negative results of the 1997 Malta Review Ministerial Conference, illustrating the existence of a causal relationship between progress in the Barcelona Process and the Middle East Peace Process. It was the task of the Malta Conference, coming as it were at a most critical phase in Middle East politics, to prove capable of sustaining the political dynamic of the EMP irrespective of the negative developments in the Middle East. But as Tanner records, such hopes were dashed by the Arab-Israeli disagreement, to the extent that prevented the Malta Summit from adopting a concluding document.[343] Senior Officials agreed to meet in Brussels in early May 1997 to put together a text whose content had little relevance to the reality of what had actually occurred in Malta.

The main task of the Second Euro-Mediterranean Ministerial Conference in Malta was to elaborate more specifically on the implementation of the Partnership Programme and to set up short-term action plans for the advancement of tangible co-operative ventures. Its results provided, in Calleya’s words, a ‘reality check’ of what had been the main issues at stake in the first two years of the Barcelona Process.[344] Apart from the problems related to the Middle East Peace Process, the Malta meeting revealed some difficulties in the economic dimension of the EMP. So far, the economic basket has shown mixed results, some of which - ‘more by accident than by design’ - allow for some degree of optimism. All in all though, the proposed new agreements were hardly as generous or as optimistic as the Barcelona Declaration had implied.[345] The Turkish Foreign Minister ostensibly stayed away from the Malta Summit because of the EU’s apparent inability to disburse the $500 million pledged to Turkey under the Customs Union agreement, whilst Egypt’s Foreign Minister publicly announced his frustration regarding the protracted negotiations with Brussels on the Association Agreement.[346]

The Malta communiqué reported serious disagreements over language referring to human rights and referred only in passing to ‘the rule of law, democracy and human rights’ as common objectives. During 1997, many EU governments took up ratification of the Euro-Mediterranean Association Agreements that the EU had initiated earlier with Tunisia, Israel, and Morocco. During this process, parliamentarians and others raised the question of human rights compliance, particularly with reference to Israel, as specified in Article 2 of the Agreements. Several governments indicated that they would seek to have the Commission set-up a human rights monitoring mechanism as part of the implementation process. But no EU member demanded human rights improvements from Israel, Tunisia or Morocco as a condition for ratifying the Association Agreement. In 1997 the EU signed an interim Association Agreement with the Palestinian Authority and was scheduled to sign one with Jordan in November the same year. Negotiations continued with Egypt and Algeria. As EU and Syrian officials were about to open negotiations, the Council of Ministers continued to suppress a November 1995 report on human rights in Syria that the EP had mandated as a condition for economic assistance.

At the top of the agenda in Malta was the endorsement of a Euro-Mediterranean Charter. But as Calleya asserts, ‘the Malta Declaration indicates that very little headway has been registered in moving ahead with implementing such an aspiration’.[347] Equally important was the need for a renewed commitment to ensure a close balance in all three baskets, although some partners felt that progress in the political basket was overtaking progress in the remaining two. The Malta Conclusions redressed this imbalance, albeit partially, by indirectly slowing down progress on the first basket.[348] The vagueness of the Conclusions was indicative of the lack of progress in the creation of a region-wide security arrangement.[349] Joffé argues that both the French and the Maltese proposals raised Arab suspicions of European hegemony and, at the Malta Review Conference, both were pushed aside by EU attempts to rescue the Middle East Peace Process.[350] In general, the Malta Conference was unsuccessful in terms of both revitalising the latter process and reviewing progress in the implementation of the Barcelona provisions. At the rhetoric level, however, the first Euro-Mediterranean Review Conference stressed that the EMP is an ‘irreversible process’, albeit one not particularly well equipped to confront the challenges of a turbulent and volatile region. The disappearance of the MENA Summits, together with the multilateral component of the Middle East Peace Process, elevated the BP as the only vehicle for economic development in southern Mediterranean, whatever regional peace and security structure was to emerge.[351]

After the Malta Conference, the atmosphere continued to deteriorate with an unsuccessful attempt to hold a meeting on terrorism and a last minute cancellation by Morocco of the Industrial Minister’s meeting under Syrian pressure due to be held in Rabat in October.[352] As the Palermo meeting approached, not only did the deadlock in the Oslo Process persist but also deepened, increasing discussions of ‘contamination’ of the BP from the US initiative and a boycott by most Arab countries. In the Ad Hoc Ministerial Meeting of June 1998 in Palermo, Arab-Israeli co-operation kept the temperature low regarding first-basket issues, setting also the scene for a constructive discussion of the remaining baskets.

They also confirmed their commitment to work on issues of substance, including the concept of ‘global stability’ and the need to develop ‘common perceptions’ on matters that may endanger progress in the Barcelona Process. Such an attitude was expected to contribute to the drafting and adoption of a Euro-Mediterranean Charter for Peace and Stability as foreseen in Barcelona Declaration. Senior Officials were again assigned the task of taking this matter forward by means of special ad hoc meetings. The aim was to make progress on this issue before the next meeting in Stuttgart the following year.

In the experts’ meeting on the Euro-Mediterranean Economic Area that was held in Brussels on 27-28 April 1998 it was confirmed that the MEFTA would comprise three elements: establishment of free trade; reforms towards economic transition; and action to encourage private investment. It was agreed that support from the MEDA framework should be diversified and focus on institutional and policy reforms on a range of instruments to address the partners’ specific needs, with local and international financial markets as the main source of capital.[353] In addition, the thematic sessions of the experts’ meeting focused on the different aspects of the economic basket. The key message was that free trade would not be pursued on its own; it would be accompanied by supporting measures. On the establishment of free trade, the southern Mediterranean partners were critical of the fact that free trade in agriculture was not envisaged given the relative importance of this sector to their economic and social structures. In fact, they even questioned whether it was at all appropriate to use the term ‘free trade’,[354] due to the protectionism of the CAP, despite the EU’s promise to reconsider its policy after the year 2005. Once again, the experts’ meeting in Brussels underlined the need for integration among the southern Mediterranean partners in view of the MEFTA project.

Cultural relations and mutual understanding have been subject to extensive scrutiny due to the absence of any visible progress in this field since the signing of the Barcelona Declaration.[355] Since then, however, there has been a strongly stated political commitment to putting the socio-cultural dimension on an equal footing with the other two.[356] Most importantly, the 1998 Rhodes Ministerial Conference on the socio-cultural dimension confirmed the priorities of the cultural partnership. This strategy, outlined also in Stockholm and Palermo, is based on three pillars: i) focussing activities on a small number of thematic framework programmes (Heritage, Audio-visual and Humanities); ii) increasing public involvement (particularly by women and young people); and iii) encouraging the establishment of networks of cultural operators at a regional level to foster exchanges of experience and further develop joint endeavours.

The Barcelona Declaration was adopted after the signing of the Oslo Accords. It was agreed that the EMP was not intended to intrude upon other peace processes already engaged in the Mediterranean region, but that it would contribute towards them. By the end of the 1990s, however, we live in a very different political atmosphere in the Middle East. The third Euro-Mediterranean meeting in Stuttgart was very important for it was held three weeks before the end of the five-year period of the Oslo Accords. At the Berlin European Council on 24-25 March 1999, EU leaders remained concerned at ‘the current deadlock in the Middle East’, and called for ‘an early resumption of negotiations on an accelerated basis’. Three weeks later, the partners reiterated in Stuttgart their firm commitment to the realisation of a just, comprehensive, and lasting peace in the Middle East based on faithful implementation of the UN Security Council Resolutions 242 and 338 and the terms of reference of the Madrid Peace Conference, the Oslo Accords, and the Wye River Memorandum.[357] Also, the 1999 EuroMeSCo Report concludes that negotiations on the Euro-Mediterranean Charter for the regulation of political and security relations have proved inconclusive. As the Report states, ‘[Negotiations] have failed because the priorities and contents assumed by the Political and Security Partnership are incongruous with respect to objective political conditions; and also because the organisational and institutional structure of the EMP itself is unbalanced, thus preventing the 12 Mediterranean partners from being fully and more actively involved. For the Charter to become acceptable, the security and political dimension of EMP must take Mediterranean diversities into consideration and be re-set accordingly. This would concern two main aspects: the structure of political dialogue and decision-making, and the objectives or contents of the Partnership’. [358]

The Third Ministerial Euro-Mediterranean Conference in Stuttgart demonstrated that, ‘three and half years after the inaugural conference in Barcelona, the EMP has developed considerably and has given clear proof of its viability in sometimes complex circumstances’.[359] The main aim of the Conference was to provide additional impetus to the EMP itself and more clearly confirm the goals set out in the Barcelona Declaration. The participants recalled the priority accorded in the EMP for the protection and promotion of human rights and agreed to concentrate activities in priority areas, increase the involvement of actors outside central government, and make the EMP more ‘action-oriented’ and ‘visible’. They also emphasised the importance of intra-regional and sub-regional co-operation in all baskets, endorsing the guidelines set out at the 1999 Valencia Conference on the methods of future co-operative arrangements, and calling for a ‘systematic evaluation’ of the Barcelona Process and for a ‘concrete follow-up’.[360]

In its eight years of function it is fair to say that the Barcelona Process has not yet fulfilled its rather high ambitions. The process has experienced significant constrains since its inception in November 1995 for two main reasons. First and foremost, due to the fact that the Barcelona Process has not helped in the resolution of any major security problem in the region. All three of its baskets of co-operation have suffered from problems such as, the proliferation of conventional weapons and weapons of mass destruction, low level of investment and infrastructure, illegal migration, violation of human rights, and above all the regional ‘ticking bomb’ called demography. Secondly, all the optimism that the Oslo Process produced in the early 1990s has evaporated in a mutually reinforcing violent cycle of suicidal terrorist attacks and excessive use of military force. It is lamentable that since the beginning of the second Intifada in 2000, the EMP has failed continuously to free itself from the Middle East Peace Process.

            There is no doubt that the EU exhibits difficulties in dealing with Middle East security in contrast to dealing with other transformative regions. But the EU also faces significant challenges as a result of the presence of the US and the continuing reluctance of the latter to share its ‘co-operative hegemony’ in the Middle East. The post-September 11th US sponsored counter-terrorism campaign in the Arab world and the crisis over Iraq have also highlighted the existence of profound divergences not only within the international community, the transatlantic alliance and the EU, but also within the EMP partners themselves. Moreover, the inadequacy of the EU’s intervention in the 2002 Middle East crisis seriously affected the status of the EMP, not only regarding security co-operation but also its multilateral nature. It is no secret that the EU has to make considerable efforts to keep Israel in the process, whilst continuing to co-operate with the Arab countries. Europeans have to contribute something concretely positive to the Peace Process in accordance with the reasonable demands of their Arab states, whilst dealing with Israel’s hostile attitude towards any EU-led intervention.

            Of importance in the years to come will be the chosen institutional format to transcend the peculiarities of the Euro-Mediterranean space. But the institutionalisation of the Barcelona Process alone will not be sufficient to manage a rather complex security agenda. The question is whether the EMP can meet its prescribed ends, without first transforming itself into a system of patterned behaviour, with a particular notion of rules of the game. In other words, the question is whether the co-operative ethos embedded in the new regional institutional setting can go beyond the level of contractual interstate obligations and closer to a genuine or, at least, meaningful partnership.[361] New rules and norms on how to handle change will have to be created, given that behaviour, not just proclamations, will determine the outcome of the regional order-building project. In this framework, the EU’s strategic choices will be of great importance, together with the promotion of norms of good governance, given the tensions arising from different conceptions of democracy and modernisation. Equally crucial are the socio-cultural barriers in furthering the prospects of an open inter-civilisational dialogue, keeping in mind the recent re-embrace of religious fundamentalism. Whatever the legitimising ethos of the prevailing views, a structured dialogue based on the principles of transparency and symbiotic association is central to the cross-fertilisation among distinct politically organised and culturally defined units. Such a dialogue, could not only alleviate historically rooted prejudices, but can also endow the EMP with a new sense of process.

 

3.7 September 11th and the Mediterranean Dimension of ESDP

After September 11th and the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, most analyses suggest that the wider Mediterranean space constitutes a zone of strategic and socio-economic instability, migration flows, violent religious and cultural conflicts, varying forms of political and economic institutions, differing perceptions of security and, above all, differing cultures and worldviews. Although, terrorism is endemic in the Mediterranean region much earlier than September 11th, however, most would agree that the new US sponsored doctrine focusing on asymmetrical threats had its impact on Euro-Mediterranean affairs - ie, the re-enforcement of policing in national security affairs, the increase of restrictions in free movement, and the alienation between the Euro-Mediterranean populations. True as it may be, the new antiterrorist doctrine has affected regional affairs by increasing ‘internal pressures’ and reactions in some southern societies, and by redirecting the focus on issues of military security at the cost of investment in economic growth and regional stabilisation. These developments have influenced negatively the workings of the Barcelona project. Such trends were further reinforced by the unpopular US policy towards the Arab-Israeli crisis.

            There is a dominant perception in the Arab world that the US sponsored antiterrorist campaign in Afghanistan, in Iraq, and possibly in Syria or somewhere else in the Middle East is the beginning of Hundington’s clashing era in international relations. This perception stems from a chain of events that have fuelled the Arab world with a deep sense of insecurity, especially the post-September 11th US doctrine convinced the Arabs that the West will not hesitate to strike out against them should its interests require so. Important here is that the emphasis given to the development of European military capabilities has led many Arab partners to the erroneous conclusion that the EU shares NATO’s strategic plan for the Mediterranean, focusing on new asymmetrical threats and the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction. The consequences of all the above endanger the empowerment of radical segments in the Arab countries that view Europe as a potential enemy, as the escalating crisis in the Middle East mobilises radical Islamism.

            Contemporary Euro-Mediterranean affairs are clearly affected by a new regional strategic variable: the formation of the European Security and Defence Policy (ESDP). This new crisis-management tool suggests a new development that enhances the role of the Union in international and regional security affairs. ESDP is only one dimension of a broader and more ambitious goal related to the future of the EU itself. These developments reflect the desire of EU states to ‘deepen’ their political integration, which is inconceivable without the strengthening of the second EU pillar. The consolidation of the Union’s CFSP is the tool that will make the EU heard in international affairs, not only as an economic giant, but as a single and independent political entity able to face global challenges and promote worldwide the fundamental principles of peace, security, co-operation, democracy, rule of law, and respect of human rights and fundamental freedoms. These goals will be supported by the EU’s security arm, the ESDP, which in its current state limits itself to dealing with crisis management, humanitarian and rescue tasks, peace-keeping operations and tasks of combat forces (including peacemaking); the so-called ‘Petersberg Tasks’. It is necessary to make clear that ESDP is not an explicit first step towards the formation of a European army.[362] It can better be defined as a point of convergence among different European aspirations, as well as a medium between the strategic preferences of the transatlantic partners. The EU is a polity with no historical precedent. Hence our expectations to elevate its current status to the level of a global actor with enhanced military capabilities is difficult to be contextualised.[363]

Even though the transformation of the EU into a collective security system is an inadequately addressed issue,the deeper integration of foreign, security and defence policies in Europe is bound to influence Euro-Mediterranean affairs, and particularly the Barcelona Process. But the creation of an autonomous European defence capacity should not lead to a ‘fortress’ Europe. To the contrary, because the ESDP is better equipped to deal with crisis-management operations, it can complement the Barcelona Process by endowing Mediterranean security affairs with a pluralist and transparent vision. Here, it is important for both projects to arrive at common definitions to security anxieties related to asymmetrical threats such as terrorism, as well as to pertaining asymmetries in issues of justice, tolerance, information-flow, and trust-building. Accordingly, all strategic perceptions in the Mediterranean region should be reconsidered and clarified, so that the open character of both the EMP and the ESDP processes is safeguarded.

The successive crises in the Balkans during the 1990s increased the need for developing a reliable ESDP in order to support EU foreign policy objectives. ESDP was formally launched at the June 1999 Cologne European Council. Since then, it developed itself though a series of decisions taken at Helsinki (December 1999), Feira (June 2000), Nice (December 2000), Geteborg (June 2001), Laeken (December 2001), Seville (June 2002), Brussels (October 2002), Copenhagen (December 2002) and, more recently, Athens (April 2003). Each of these summits gave substance to the EU’s desire to enhance its capacity for autonomous action. Following the mobilization of the Hellenic Presidency during the Informal Conference of EU Defence Ministers (Rethymno 4-5 October 2002), the prospects of ESDP have been set on a more stable basis. The basic priority set out by the Hellenic Presidency is the finalisation of all outstanding issues that will allow for the utilisation of the EU’s operational capability in crisis management operations within 2003, through the balanced development of civilian and military aspects and the advancement of civil-military networks. It has to be stressed here that a basic parameter for the further development of ESDP is the co-operation agreement with NATO and the settlement of all pending issues in Euro-Atlantic relations.[364]

Most analysts, in the light of the negative experience with Eurofor and Euromarfor, have underlined the need of complementary measures to support the ESDP. Given the low level of information about the ESDP that is provided in the Arab world, it was decided that the EU pays attention to the misperceptions and fears of some Mediterranean partners regarding the strengthening of its military capabilities. Thus the ESDP has its own Mediterranean dimension, courtesy of the initiative taken by the Spanish Presidency during the first half of 2002.[365] Greece, through its ESDP Presidency, has already played a decisive role in this effort. The Greek proposals over transparency, trust-building and the institutionalisation of a security dialogue in the Mediterranean, will allow the Mediterranean partners to gain better access in the construction of a co-operative Euro-Mediterranean space, by reducing the asymmetry that currently characterizes the regional system.[366] Hence, another function of the 2003 Hellenic Presidency’s seminars on the Mediterranean Dimension of the ESDP in Rhodes (1-2 Nov- 2002) and Corfu (9-10 May 2003) is to act as platforms for constructive discourse.[367] It is crucial that this line of communication remains open to clarify EU strategic intentions and alleviate possible misperceptions by the Arab partners, thus promoting mutual understanding.

            It is important to mention here the EuroMeSCo’s working group III on ‘European Security and Defence Policy: Impact on the EMP’ assessment of the southern Mediterranean perceptions. The first year report revealed very useful data for the current state of art in regional security affairs.[368] The Arab partners generally doubt the international role of the EU, since the favorable European attitude towards the right of existence for the Palestinian Authority is counterbalanced by its ineffective action in Jerusalem. Rather naturally, the majority of the public opinion in the Arab populations of Mediterranean societies considers the EU’s stance fairer to that of the US, but the Israeli perception over the European presence in the area is opposite. In Israel there is a dominant ‘hopeful pessimism’ over the international role of the EU vis-à-vis the ‘obvious’ hostility towards Israeli interests in the Palestinian issue. On the other hand, the Arabs are positive for a more active EU role in the Middle East.

            Besides the growing feeling that in the Arab world there is a negative predisposition towards the ESDP, questions about the properties of a Mediterranean security system further complicate discussion about the objectives and the level of the EU’s strategic involvement in the region. The EU’s official documents such as the Common Strategy for the Mediterranean are general descriptions lacking prioritisation over the EU’s pragmatic intentions.[369] But in the process of consolidating a European defence identity with operational capabilities, the conceptions, intentions, planning, political goals, individual national interests of EU members and their attempts to maintain a relative diplomatic freedom in the Mediterranean remain vague. ‘In the absence of a clear range of goals, deriving from a joint strategic plan for the Mediterranean’, EuroMeSCo’s report argues that ‘a certain level of vagueness is inevitable’.[370] The development of EU military capabilities is a reaction to previous European interventions in the successive Yugoslav crises. But the fact that the main geographical target of the ESDP is to maintain stability within the European continent, does not exclude the possibility of the EU to undertake humanitarian and crisis management operations in the Mediterranean.

ESDP represents a new regional strategic variable, not a threat. Thus the Mediterranean partners of the EU should not perceive it in hostile terms. Immigration is not on the ESDP agenda, and the EU’s military force is certainly not intended to act as a police force for the Mediterranean people. Southern partners should not therefore view the deeper motives of the ESDP as the creation of a Schengen-type force to guard the Mediterranean, or as some sort of EU military imposition or even as an orchestrated western control on them. A solid EU position towards the wider Middle East region could act as a confidence-building measure in Euro-Mediterranean relations. Within this frame, the ESDP project can be perceived by the Mediterranean partners as a new opportunity to strengthen strategic co-operation.

Most of the southern partners of the EU see positively the strengthening of regional defence co-operation and their involvement in joint military exercises. It is essential to promote the positive expectations for a more active EU in Mediterranean security affairs, by encouraging its partners to participate in joint strategic activities. The participation of southern EMP partners in future ESDP exercises in the region is a confidence-building measure that needs to be encouraged. The reinforcement of scientific co-operation in joint military exercises like emergency rescue missions and the handling of natural disasters is a good case in point. It is also suggested that co-ordination mechanisms for bilateral security and defence co-operation should not be excluded from the agenda, initially at the level of exchange of information in sub-regional initiatives where security is a clear issue, such as the Mediterranean Forum.[371] This could then be extended to the EMP. This will promote regional co-operation in the fields of security and defence through immediate upgrade of the intelligence level in ESDP matters.

Even though Mediterranean partners seem to appreciate security and defence co-operation at a selective bilateral level, the holding of frequent conferences and seminars at MoD level to act as platforms for constructive discourse is something desirable by all partners. This was clear at the seminar on the Mediterranean dimension of the ESDP in Rhodes. The Hellenic Presidency has helped to revive the interest over the initiation and institutional consolidation of security dialogue in the Mediterranean for the achievement of co-operative security in the Mediterranean, especially in the light of the current crisis. The Greek proposal for the regularisation of a security dialogue in the region could lay the foundation for the proper institutionalisation of the Mediterranean dimension of the ESDP. 

Limited, as it may currently is, the potential for organising Mediterranean security awaits utilisation. Because crises in the region are endemic, they know no borders: they have a tendency to ignore passport procedures and spill-over very rapidly. ESDP, the new EU crisis-management tool will be operationally ready within 2003. There is no doubt that its Mediterranean dimension will have positive cumulative effects in the regional security system. This prospect opens a wide range of possibilities for crucial strategic issues to be brought to the fore of Euro-Mediterranean affairs, such as questions of operational readiness, doctrinal convergence, conflict prevention, intelligence sharing and information-exchange practices, civilian emergency planning, and so on.

 

3.8 Overall Evaluation of the Barcelona Project

Jűnemann defines the EMP as ‘the climax of a political process that started shortly after the fall of the Berlin wall, but more than that it marks the starting point of a new era of interregional relations’.[372] Its philosophy, as summarised by an EU official, is: ‘a non-paternalistic relationship based on the acknowledgement of interdependencies and common interests, of the right to development and freedom, the need for decentralised co-operation, the key role of the private sector, continuous dialogue at all levels: intergovernmental and between civil societies; and a multidimensional co-operation in its action and its instruments’.[373] Arguably, a new phase has emerged in Euro-Mediterranean relations, consisting of openness, prior dialogue, and work in common from policy-design to implementation.

‘It is quite obvious’, Jűnemann argues, ‘that the Barcelona concept aims at a careful westernisation of the Mediterranean, gradually converting it into an area of economic and political influence’.[374] Regarding the commitment to democracy and human rights, it seems that some non-EU partners will sooner or later face the reality that the other participants, European or not, might actually insist on the preservation of the principles and norms agreed in Barcelona. But although the political conditionality underlying the economic and financial partnership ‘allows the EU to suspend its commitments in cases of failure concerning democracy or respect of human rights, offering an apparently effective instrument to influence the process of democratisation ... it exposes the MPCs to the good will of the Europeans, thus offending their demand for equal partnership’.[375] From this perspective, the charge of ‘Westernising’ looks like a shady political stratagem aimed at discrediting forces that are pressing for change.

As Fahmi notes, the EMP resolved the major question of whether regional security would be addressed within a strictly Mediterranean context, or within a wider framework encompassing European security concerns.[376] Although the Barcelona Declaration did not linger over the meaning of security and stability, it produced a clearly Euro-centric perspective of the ‘common threat’.[377] The EMP was a collective attempt to redefine European threat perceptions towards the Mediterranean by addressing issues of social unrest and economic underdevelopment, rather than by detecting a direct Arab military threat. Although the initial target date for the establishment of MEFTA is the year 2010, the Europeans made no secret of the fact that the aid plan for the transition period intended to contribute to the slowing of migratory flows to the EU. As Rifkind, the then British Foreign Secretary, stated: ‘One of the most important ways in which we can achieve political stability is by economic growth, and by the countries of the EU helping those in North Africa and the Middle East develop their economic potential and economic infrastructure. Political stability will flow from that’.[378] The argument is that with trade growing, jobs will be created in Mediterranean countries and emigration will slow. From this view, political change in the southern Mediterranean is expected to be a by-product of economic liberalisation. In this context, Kienle argues that this approach is a retouched version of the theory of markets as a democratising force.[379]

From a purely economic perspective, the Barcelona document does not represent a radical break with past European policies towards the Mediterranean that consisted of comparatively limited economic and financial aspects, but rather it is ‘a deepening of past efforts’,[380] in that it incorporates in its economic agenda more clearly defined global objectives.[381] Overall, the entire project was a sign of the EU’s willingness to play an increasingly active economic role in bringing all partners closer together and to reduce political and social sources of conflict.[382] But building the MEFTA pre-supposes that partners will be able to understand each other and to share the same practices. Since Barcelona, any rigid distinction between economic, political and socio-cultural issues can only be made at the cost of avoiding regional reality. Herein lies perhaps the most innovative aspect of the EU’s Mediterranean approach post-Barcelona: that in addition to the traditional economic pattern of intra-regional relations, there now appears to be an intrinsic link between the political (mainly security-driven) and socio-cultural arenas.

According to Marquina, no idea of security exists that gives backbone to the EMP, and the documents themselves contain incoherence and imprecision regarding the concepts of co-operative security, preventative diplomacy, and ‘good neighbour’ relations.[383] He claims that these principles remain under-explained in both conceptual and operative aspects. However, there is a degree of coherence in the EU’s intention, in that economic problems can only be tackled once issues of political legitimacy are addressed. Ultimately, most players seem to agree that regional co-operation will need to be implemented by the private sector, business enterprises, and individuals.[384]Furthermore, Aliboni argues that this initiative is the result of a remarkable and successful effort by the EU to innovate and reinforce its Mediterranean policy, noting that change has marked this effort: ‘Change is reflected in the articulation of a new structured strategy of regionalism, predicated on the establishment of a Free Trade Area as well as in the search or a common area of peace and stability aimed at providing security and supporting economic development’.[385] But the MEFTA objective, which is to be achieved through a series of economic reforms, hides security risks since accelerated market liberalisation in the southern Mediterranean rim could produce greater waves of instability.[386] The EMP has not yet utilised the necessary mechanisms to operationalise and, in time, regularise political co-operation, something that may prove vital in case of further economic recession in the southern rim. These mechanisms are cited in the Barcelona document, establishing ‘information exchanges’ and ‘dialogue mechanisms’, and in the Action Plan that was set out at the beginning of the Barcelona Process. Joffé suggests that the EU, in seeking to create a global and comprehensive approach, should provide the following set of mechanisms: i) support for responsive and participatory political processes backed up by the encouragement of economic transparency and accountability within a codified and independent legal structure; ii) collective co-operative security alongside viable economic restructuring; and iii) a financial commitment ‘to guarantee the creation of the essential human and physical infrastructure that will make the economic refashioning of the Mediterranean region into a win-win situation for all’.[387]

 

3.9 Conceptualising the Euro-Mediterranean Regime

According to Edwards and Philippart, the EMP offers a process whose analysis and interpretation encompasses different theoretical possibilities.[388] In general, the Barcelona Process clearly aims at correcting the structural deficiencies evident in past European policies towards the region, and can be seen, in Gillespie’s words, as ‘emblematic of a process’ being constituted from a dynamic set of international exchanges, but still falling short of a meaningful partnership.[389] Yet, the invention of the entire project should be seen as a vital step towards a partnership that may animate some confident expectations for the emergence of a common ‘Euro-Mediterranean consciousness’, thus laying the groundwork for the creation of an international regime.

From a systemic point of view, the EMP is an emerging multidimensional regime that establishes links between political (security), economic (MEFTA) and socio-cultural (human rights/civil society) arenas. The core claim here is that states obey the rules embodied in international regimes because of the functional benefits that the latter provide. For the moment, however, the EMP represents a balance of separate national preferences, rather than a genuinely common Euro-Mediterranean interest per se. Although the EMP sets up a system of flexible regional arrangements, the substantial differentiation of the ratio with the EU’s budget for the reconstruction of East European economies was the major reason for attracting the interest of southern Mediterranean countries.[390] Indeed, the EMP is propelled by a certain ‘economism’ whose financial rather than trade implications are favourable to the non-EU partners. In return to the above, the EU linked issues of economic liberalisation to a set of political principles.

Keohane, in an influential study that straddled the lines of realist and neoliberalist thinking, suggested that regimes are ‘institutions with explicit rules, agreed upon governments that pertain to particular sets of issues in international relations’.[391] This is of special importance considering that Euro-Mediterranean politics combine both power politics considerations and questions of increased complex interdependence. Keohane’s ‘lean’ definition, as opposed to that offered by Krasner, has the advantage of relieving scholars from the burden of justifying their decision to call a given injunction a ‘norm’ rather than a ‘rule’.[392] The above definition is helpful, since norms are not explicit in the complex framework of Euro-Mediterranean relations and since no substantive level of institutional autonomy exists. Although the EMP provides for some general rules, it remains weak in relation to the development of an identifiable set of norms. Ceteris paribus, the EMP can be seen as an international regime in statu nascendi, albeit one which accords with Keohane’s ‘lean’ definition of the term. Without a better, or, indeed, a less nebulous definition in the acquis académique, such a claim remains valid.

A distinctive feature of international relations today is that power is becoming more widely dispersed and low politics acquire more salient for scholars and policy-makers. Developments in Euro-Mediterranean politics and attempts at institutionalising the EMP are no exception. The latter, only a handful of years since its inception remains in limbo between an ‘association of states’ and an ‘international regime’. The question is whether it can sustain itself for any length of time without becoming a system of patterned behaviour. In other words, without generating a notion of rules of the game capable of guiding and at a latter stage structuring international behaviour. From a linear projection of Euro-Mediterranean governance, the Partnership could evolve into a fully-fledged international regime with a life of its own. At present, no such entity can be said to exist as a result of the Barcelona Process, at least in terms of complying with the basic analytic construct of international regimes. The rather discomforting empirical developments in the process, suffice to make the point. On the other hand, the fascinating element in the evolving Partnership is that, from a dynamic macro-political perspective, it may find ways of instrumentalising the principles and norms embedded in the Barcelona Declaration and transform them into concrete rules of the game based on shared beliefs, standards of behaviour, and decision-making procedures for implementing collective choice. This is crucial for international regime-formation emphasises the importance of institutionalisation and international culture in sustaining co-operative behaviour. The trend is to regularise a form of international co-operation that, in Jervis’ words, ‘is more than the following of short-term self-interest’.[393] In other words, to move beyond ad hoc agreements based on short-term power maximisation.

But it would be wrong to equate the end-result of the Barcelona Process with the formation of an international regime per se. For the latter are not regarded, in Krasner’s terms, as ends themselves. Rather, ‘[o]nce in place they do affect related behaviour and outcomes. They are not merely epiphenomenal’.[394] From this view, principles, norms, rules, and decision-making procedures have an impact on outcomes and related behaviour, thus transcending ‘structural orientations [that] conceptualise a world of rational self-seeking actors’.[395] In short, regimes make a difference, moving beyond a state-centric realist perspective that reflects calculations of self-interest. The relationship between patterned behaviour and convergent expectations is a key to our understanding of international regimes: those two aspects create an environment of ‘conditionalised behaviour’ which in turn ‘generates recognised norms’ that transcend national boundaries and nurture a broader social space.[396] Contrary to structural arguments made by realists, regimes have an independent impact on behaviour and are a crucial part of patterned human interaction. The latter view is drawn from the Grotian tradition, where ‘regimes are a pervasive and significant phenomenon in the international system’.[397]

In the case of the EMP, it could be argued that regime-creation is directed at setting the limits of acceptable behaviour within a nascent and flexibly arranged structure of governance. It is important to note here that the EMP addressed the post-Cold War Mediterranean reality as ‘an overlap of different regions integrating different dimensions’.[398] The flexibility of the EMP sets the limits of ‘consciousness-raising’ in issues of Euro-Mediterranean governance and in particular the possibility of acquiring operational capabilities. In this context, its weak institutional structure makes it difficult for individual state actors to transcend the pursuit of short-term interests. Regimes also deploy a system of interconnectedness among different areas of co-operation that helps explain the nature and complexity of interdependence among the actors involved.

Aficionados of the literature on international regimes are conscious of the need to achieve mutually rewarding outcomes in systems of institutionalised rule. Being a highly fragmented system of policy interactions, any future attempts to navigate the dynamics of the Euro-Mediterranean regime need to be differentiated according to the specific conditions of co-operation embedded in its basket arrangements. Following this line of argument, the EMP encompasses a multiplicity of norms of behaviour, especially when different procedures apply, determining the degree of involvement of the relevant actors. Further, a partial conceptualisation of the EMP’s baskets as separate pillars is not particularly helpful when assessing its cross-sectional, essentially political properties - i.e., what defines it as a system with significant regime aspects. But regime theory may fail to take into account the relationship between the politicisation of issues that regional co-operation may bring about and the strategy employed by particular actors to exercise managerial and even more substantive control over the process of regime-formation. These deeper concerns have as much to do with implied benefits from collective action (or regime maintenance) as with questions about what kind of co-operation the EMP is allowed or prohibited from taking. Conceptualising the EMP through the lenses of regime theory has the advantage of moving away from a formalistic approach to multilateral co-operation, institutional linkages, and the importance of domestic politics in regional affairs: it could set in train a process for the internationalisation of issues and their inclusion under a flexible management system.

As students of international relations put great emphasis on international regimes as institutional devises for collective problem-solving, it is questionable how far the Euro-Mediterranean system can realise its ‘co-operative objectives’ under its currently weak structure. That is to say, without investing further in concrete partnership-building measures on issues of substance such as the need to develop a Charter for Peace and Stability in the region.[399] The envisaged Charter will be an exercise in pre-emptive diplomacy and, above all, will represent a form of institutionalised alliance. It can provide the levels of transparency that an ongoing dialogue requires, along with the necessary machinery to manage potentially unresolved crises.

All the above beg the following question: why is it that states are bound by certain norms, principles, rules, and decision-making procedures? International regime theory offers a plausible answer: whether international co-operation is an a priori objective of states, or stems from a certain idealism about the management of pressing international affairs, states pursue their interests more effectively by being members of a larger association.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter IV

Comparative Investigation and Lessons Learned

As stated in the introduction of this study, the empirical evidence so far has focused on the institutional and policy issues that set the agenda as well as the competing interests and attitudes toward the two international processes. The emphasis was on the interplay between three sets of factors - cognitive, structural and political - so as to gain a better understanding of the systemic complexity and system-change characterising Europe and the Mediterranean. This Chapter explores the limits and possibilities of analogical reasoning as applied to our case studies, permitting the transfer of assumptions and ideas from a more familiar to a less studied phenomenon, and offering the resources necessary for placing the challenges confronting the Euro-Mediterranean space in the context of international organisation.

Comparing the HP and the BP reveals several similarities and differences between the two projects that are relevant for theorising regime-formation and order-building. The macroscopic approach adopted here helps to frame both theoretical and empirical puzzles by generating plausible hypotheses that are worth examining. But comparative politics is very much a problem-driven field of inquiry.[400] What motivates this study are puzzles of practical significance in Euro-Mediterranean politics: Why form a Euro-Mediterranean regime? What role can regimes play to facilitate prosperity and equity in a such a complex and diverse region? What strategies and mechanisms can be employed to achieve compliance in the Mediterranean? Do Helsinki-like mechanisms fit the Barcelona objectives? Under what conditions will the Euro-Mediterranean order change or consolidate itself? Is institutionalisation a virtue of or a hindrance to the process of regime-formation? Lessons drawn from the comparative investigation help the analyst to describe the complexity of the forces at work in the Mediterranean domain, to break down regional complexity itself, and to map the expectations that the BP has initially raised.

 

4.1 Comparing ‘Apples with Oranges

A good point for departure in demonstrating the deviations and approximations that would allow analogical mapping to be appropriate and effective between the two international processes is to compare their origins and respective normative orders. The post-war period, much like the present post-Cold War era, was a time of transition. New technologies, Soviet power, and the appearance of nuclear weapons demanded creative responses. The CSCE was created in an attempt to multilateralise the bipolar US-Soviet confrontation into an East-West dialogue. Against this background, the EC’s earlier Mediterranean policy was patterned on the triptych trade concessions, financial co-operation, and project aid. But these actions proved insufficient to sustain regional economic progress. The same can be said of all pre-1989 EC efforts to promote political dialogue and horizontal co-ordination in the region. Such efforts lacked a formal and comprehensive dialogue component due to their predominant bilateralism. With the signing of the Barcelona Declaration, however, all Euro-Mediterranean agreements acquired a multilateral framework within which to operate. Creating a community of interests and a dialogue on mainly economic but also political and socio-cultural issues are the major challenges for the Barcelona project. The aim of the Barcelona Declaration is similar to that of the HFA: to commit its members to a set of basic principles for international co-operation and peaceful relations, including democratisation, liberalisation, pluralism, the rule of law, respect for human rights and minorities, and good neighbourly relations as operational principles for a meaningful Partnership. If the aim of CSCE regime-formation was to achieve a relaxation of tensions between East and West - i.e., détente - that of the EMP is to build a stable regional order to accommodate diverse interests.

Whereas the CSCE emerged from a bargaining process with a view to managing competing normative orders of détente in a ‘divided’ order, the EMP, currently evolving within a fragmented order itself, represents the culmination of previous European efforts to a reliable and co-ordinated response to the various challenges confronting the Mediterranean. As it has been proved here, although the CSCE was primarily a security-related scheme, it has been paying more attention in recent years to the economic dimension of security. This trend was in line with the strategies employed by post-communist governments in Central and Eastern Europe to problems of macroeconomic stabilisation and systemic transition. This is similar to the economic transformation of the southern Mediterranean rim, in that the EMP aims at providing guidance and assistance in countries whose economies and polities are also in transition. But as it has illustrated, although the context of change remains similar, there are differences in the pursuit of change on the part of the EU. As Edwards and Philippart argue, in the Barcelona project economic change has to be carried out swiftly.[401] Moreover, both NATO and the EU have been involved from the very beginning in programmes to consolidate democratic institutions, modify civic-military relations, and develop economic infrastructures in the former communist states. The possibility of inclusion into the core of those organisations that provide collective governance in Europe has indeed created powerful incentives as transition states shape (and are shaped by) their new politico-economic realities.

The general assessment of this study is that there are many correspondences, to borrow a term from comparative social science,[402] between the two phenomena, especially post-1989. It was then that the CSCE changed its focus to accommodate the re-integration of Europe, while the EU and its comprehensive approach to Mediterranean security could not have been realised during the Cold War. Threats in the international system are no longer defined in terms of interstate conflict alone, but include a broad range of issues. Yet, there are noticeable differences between the two projects. Ghebali notes: ‘[w]hile the CSCE had to deal with problems essentially ideological in nature and had been created to overcome the artificial division of a culturally homogeneous continent, a CSCM would have to cope with economic and cultural disparities’.[403] The HP is a tried and tested means of promoting change through negotiation. The CSCE worked simply because it functioned within the Cold War system: both blocks were homogeneous and the superpowers were able to enforce agreement and compliance; and all ‘hard’ security issues were first related to the security systems of the two military alliances. Co-operation, supervision, mutual control and reduction of armaments, and the solving of security dilemmas were linked to ‘the CSCE concept’.[404] But since the fall of the Berlin Wall, the structure of the Cold War order has been superseded by a new world (dis)order. In the Mediterranean theatre, no major military threat exists, as was the case in Cold War Europe. Instead, there is an increased security alertness associated with complex socio-economic, demographic, and political challenges. Neither a European (North-South and South-South), nor an Arab unity exist, not to speak of a communal journey between EU and Arab states. All the above have let us conceive of the Mediterranean as a hotbed of tensions. In this framework, if the aim of CSCE process was to preserve détente, its Mediterranean equivalent is to institutionalise state and societal interaction in an emerging regional order.

 

4.2 Multilateral Arrangements and Conditionality

Both the Barcelona Declaration and the HFA are not international treaties or conventions, but politically binding agreements that constituted the EMP and the CSCE respectively.[405] Treaties and conventions are the two most formal instruments in the range of mechanisms available to international law.[406] Less formal and more frequently used arrangements are ‘agreements’, ‘final acts’, ‘declarations’ among other forms of international instruments.[407] ‘Acts’ may take the form of ‘general acts’ referring to instruments which are part of a set of arrangements, or ‘final acts’ that normally combine a set of declaratory principles and rules governing the workings of an international conference. To offer an example, the Helsinki Consultations prepared during the preparatory talks were incorporated into the HFA. Any ‘final act’ is what Barston calls a form of procės-verbal where signature does not serve as an indication of states being bound by the obligations stemming from such acts, as is the case of international treaties. The latter require separate signature and ratification.[408] ‘Declarations’ have been increasingly used by states, reflecting the formation of diverse political groupings, and the perceived need for co-ordinated action and, where applicable, collective governance. While certain declarations may be regarded as treaty instruments in view of their law-making function or specific undertakings, others may not. Barston is explicit when he argues that ‘declarations published after a heads of government conference may partly contain agreements to do or not to do something and partly statements of common policy, causing considerable difficulty in determining whether they may be regarded as treaty instruments’.[409]

During the Cold War, declarations in which the two superpowers promised to observe certain general ethics or norms often made relations worse. Such declarations fostered different and often conflicting interpretations of rules and lacked detailed provisions for implementation. Each state interpreted the language to its own advantage, leading to mutual recriminations and blame when neither lived up to the other’s expectations. Cold War declarations in which leader proclaimed their desire for peace and co-operation had little impact on the other side, which asked for ‘deeds, not words’.[410] Statements announcing specific co-operative actions had a greater impact on trust-building as opposed to general declarations of intent. Moreover, informal instruments like declarations and final acts are often used for reasons of administrative ease, speed, political and/or economic secrecy and, above all, flexibility, although inevitable problems arise in connection with their interpretation and binding nature, especially in transitional periods. Similarly, the informality characterising the EU’s approach towards its Mediterranean partners is a means of managing the idiosyncratic complexity of Mediterranean politics without creating a robust regime with good chances of altering the behaviour of actors. Stein argues that informality allows regimes to grab a toehold in a contentious climate: ‘It is precisely the informality of most (security) regimes ... their capacity to build on tacit consensus, to exploit common aversions which are mutually shared, which gives them special potential in an environment that is coldly inhospitable to more formal arrangements’.[411]

Downs, Rocke and Barsoom remind us that ‘[o]ne of the most prominent characteristics of multilateral organizations is that they do not “sprint forth full blown”; they grow’.[412] However, in both our cases the difficulty lies in transforming abstract commitments into actual processes and policy structures, as well as in developing new patterns of behaviour. Both the HFA and the Barcelona Declaration intentionally defined themselves as ‘processes’ providing flexibility and leeway; the more controversial issues of ‘hard’ security being deliberately excluded. Let us recall here that the Barcelona Conference brought Israeli and Syrian representatives at the same table, something that was arguably inconceivable to any previous Mediterranean initiative. This was achieved precisely by avoiding reference to any major political and security issues. Another example is that the political aims of the Barcelona project were not really touched upon during the formative stages in an attempt to avoid the controversy that would have arisen from calling attention to the disjunction between Western conceptions of democracy and Islam. It is often the case that the Western ethos on human rights and minority issues is taken by the Arab world as imperialistic external interference in the domestic affairs of states. Such sentiments have increased after the Gulf Wars and the recent NATO-sponsored bombing of Belgrade, raising questions about the prospects of some southern Mediterranean partners to comply with Barcelona’s normative commitments.

As stated in the introduction of this study, the Barcelona Declaration shares a structural resemblance with the normative foundation of the HFA, whose human rights provisions acted as agents of change through issue-linkage. Seen as a primitive version of conditionality, and by affirming that the ‘human dimension’ is essential for the development of friendly relations among states, the Helsinki experience fostered a kind of international culture consistent with civil society. In doing so, it was the first step of a long and arduous path toward the acknowledgement that human rights and fundamental human freedoms are both central and legitimate security concerns. In the Barcelona project, in addition to the traditional economic pattern of intra-regional relations, there is an intrinsic linkage between the political and socio-cultural arenas and thus any rigid distinction between them can only be made at the cost of avoiding post-Cold War Mediterranean reality. As in the HP, progress in any of the three baskets of the EMP depends upon progress in the others. Issue-linkage among different areas is conducive to side-payments and raises the price of defection. As Keohane put it: ‘Clustering of issues under regime facilitates side payments among these issues: more potential quids are available for the quo. Without international regimes linking clusters of issues to one another, side payments and linkages would be difficult to arrange in world politics’.[413] In this context, if the two projects are seen as compatible to each other, at least with reference to the emergence of new patterns of multilateralism, then the prevailing framework of arrangements is a means of overcoming the obstacles on the road to international regime-formation in fragmented orders. For, regimes retain and even increase their policy significance post-Cold War: in the new era, we are witnessing a dramatic increase in international connections and institutions established to manage whole areas of transnational activity and collective policy problems.

The basket-based architectural design of both projects, their process-driven nature, and the low levels of institutionalisation during their early stages are linked to the principle of conditionality. In the case of the EMP, conditionality takes the form of a ‘trade off’ between financial/technical assistance from the EU (as opposed to its previous less rewarding policies) and an ethics of liberalisation based on socio-economic restructuring and, where possible, reconstruction. Whereas the human dimension of the HP was seen by the West as a useful diplomatic weapon for gradually eroding communism by introducing a system of mechanisms and international controls over human rights issues, the aim of the BP is to establish concrete avenues of communication among distinct culturally defined and politically organised states and societies. From a process-phased analytic prism, this is an important qualification pointing to a differentiation of the motives and expectations that navigate the macro-strategic choices of the actors involved. The current Mediterranean policy of the EU is not based on a crude Westernisation approach aiming at the erosion, if not the collapse, of existing South Mediterranean regimes although, the distribution of expected benefits is not as equitable as Europeans would have us believe. In short, the essence of the emerging Barcelona regime is to pursue regional security by recognising difference and diversity, whilst seeking to prevent the Mediterranean heterarchy from becoming unmanaged.

 

4.3 The Politics of Order-Building

After the Cold War, the international system is slowly but surely being shaped by the uncertainties of the new world order. The fact that most conflicts today are within and not between states reflects the general success of international norms and organisations in maintaining peace in the international system. In this context, one of the most important ingredients for the success of the CSCE regime was that it managed to guarantee the viability of détente, despite the fundamental cleavages of the Cold War. What ultimately matters, Rotfeld notes, ‘is not so much the removal of conflicting interests, which is almost irrational to expect, but the creation of a framework within which these conflicting interests could be peacefully reconciled’.[414] Euro-Mediterranean regime-formation, evident in the functionalist strategy of the EU, does not aim to create a homogenous regional order, but rather to develop a multilateral framework for negotiating mutually acceptable outcomes.

Mitrany’s argument that politics should not dominate function in the management of collective problems influenced early theorists of international regimes.[415] This implies that regimes are partial orders suited to specific administrative domains that are embedded in a broader international order. Each issue-area can have different, if analogous, governance structures (regimes) as a result of the endogenous interaction of the interests and power at stake. Regimes are organized on the basis of the activities to be regulated not the characteristics of the actors or the region they inhabit.[416] A lot of effort has been devoted in the relevant literature in explaining and understanding East-West security regimes, with particular emphasis on the CSCE process. In general, security regimes reduce conflict between actors by decreasing the uncertainty and distrust characteristic of the ‘security dilemma’, wherein what one does to increase its security may be seen as a threat to each other. Rittberger’s analysis has been influential in this field. He writes:‘... international regimes are but one, yet increasingly important, manifestation of a process in which self-help strategies, or unregulated conflict management, are being replaced by mechanisms of self-control, or regulated anarchy. The formation and the spread of international regimes contribute to the continuation of the process of civilization on a higher international level. This newly emerging complex structure of the international system may best captured by the image of a regulated anarchy’.[417]

As Gale argues, international regime analysis can serve critical purposes.[418] Such an analysis is not only a tool for understanding co-operation and the role of norms in the pursuit of co-operation there is a need to go beyond merely ‘routinized’ or ‘patterned’ behaviour,[419] but also an instrument that helps explaining patterns of regional order-building. Conceptualising Euro-Mediterranean politics from the prism of international regime theory has the advantage of moving away from a formalistic approach to co-operation to a more dynamic conception of the role of institutions in shaping regional order. The principal claim of regime analysis is that ‘states may generate institutions in identifiable issue areas that affect their behaviour and foster cooperation, even if short-term interests would dictate deviation’.[420] Regime analysis tackles two important aspects that hinder co-operation in the Euro-Mediterranean order: the uncertainty about the future of the region in relation to actors’ preferences and the possibility that such actors may behave in an opportunistic manner. Keohane outlines the role of international regimes from a functionalist perspective as follows: ‘the principle and rules of a regime reduce the range of expected behavior, uncertainty declines, and as information becomes more widely available, the asymmetry of its distribution is likely to lessen. Regimes provide standards of behavior against which performance can be measured. Arrangements within regimes [can] monitor actors’ behavior [and] provides procedures and rules through which ... sanctions can be coordinated’.[421]

The BP has produced so far a loose association of partial regimes that encompass a multiplicity of norms and procedures. However, it is precisely the high level of flexibility characterising the Euro-Mediterranean regime and its weak institutional(ised) structures that make it difficult for the partners to transcend the pursuit of short-term interests and objectives.

Grosso modo, if states and other international actors are to co-operate there are many different strategies for achieving collective goods. According to Kindleberger, one such method is to ‘bind the members of the international community to rules of contact, to which they agree, and which will restrain each member from free riding, and allocate burdens equitably, as a matter of international legal commitment’.[422] But ‘nonhegemonic cooperation [as proposed by the EMP] is difficult, since it must take place among independent states that are motivated more by their own conceptions of self-interest than by devotion to the common good’.[423] The above syllogism drives us directly to the issue of compliance and the question of why actors abide by the norms embedded in international regimes. Contemporary scholarship offers two largely competing answers: regime theorists emphasise material factors and instrumental motives, while neglecting the social and interaction contexts of compliance, while constructivists stress the role of social structures in compliance decisions, while failing to develop a robust and multi-faceted theory of agency.[424]  In both cases, however, Young’s axiom seems to hold true, in that ‘compliance to specific regulations invariably poses problems of choice for those who are subject to specific behavioural prescriptions. This is so whether a given actor chooses to comply or not to comply, either on the basis of conscious calculations or of subconscious forces’.[425] International relations research on compliance in regulatory regimes in the 1990s suggests that high levels of compliance have been achieved with generally little attention to enforcement; that those compliance problems that do exist are best addressed as management rather than enforcement problems; and that the management approach is the key to the evolution of future regulatory co-operation in the international system.[426] Others claim that, while these findings are grosso modo correct, policy inferences are dangerously contaminated by endogeneity and selection problems. Downs, Rocke and Barsoom explain: ‘A high rate of compliance is often the result of states formulating treaties that require them to do little more than they would do in the absence of a treaty. In those cases where noncompliance does occur and where the effects of selection are attenuated, both self-interest and enforcement play significant roles’.[427]

To the extent that institutions ‘reflect a set of dominant ideas translated through legal mechanisms into formal governmental organizations’,[428] the literature on ideas as an impetus for foreign policy echoes the work of neoliberal institutionalists. Until recently, the definition of international relations as the study of egoistic competition in an unregulated environment set the terms of academic discourse. Thus, the neorealist-neoliberal debate has been primarily concerned with the barriers to international co-operation, the relative importance of wealth versus security, and the degree to which international institutions can ameliorate the harsher aspects of anarchy.[429] As Jervis points out, for neorealism (and institutionalism too), the actors’ values, preferences, beliefs, and definition of ‘self’ are all exogenous to the model and must be provided before analysis can begin.[430] Neoliberals and their neorealist critics have debated the relative importance of two main obstacles to international co-operation: problems of cheating and enforcement, and problems of relative gains. By contrast, Fearon argues that problems of international co-operation have a common strategic structure in which a third, distinct obstacle plays a crucial role.[431] Almost regardless of the issue area, states must first resolve the bargaining problem of agreeing on terms before they can actually implement an agreement. For sure, there has always been a lively dissenting view to these dominant perspectives within both the regime and bargaining literatures. Haas’s early work on international organisation,[432] and a smaller group of regime-compliance scholars such as Adler and Ruggie[433] have been concerned with the dynamics that produce regime-compliance: allusions to learning, internalisation, and persuasion. Indeed, the so-called ‘cognitivists’ have consistently argued that the agents’ strategies and, perhaps, underlying preferences are in flux, and thus open to learning. Put differently, compliance occurs through interest/identity redefinition.

In this context, and within the comparative focus of this study, Adler claims that the CSCE consensus rule fostered a sense of responsibility among all its members for maintaining security in post-Cold War Europe. He explains: ‘It makes states look beyond their own interests and share the broader responsibility for overall security. The right to block any decision is a powerful form of leverage. The “institutional culture” teaches to use it in a responsible way. Sometimes it may be tempting to use the “veto” to demonstrate dissatisfaction or even despair with a bilateral problem or other matter of concern not directly related to the issue at hand. But a common, although unwritten understanding exists that a single state may block decision-making only when vital interests related to the issues justify it’.[434]

The Kremlin had no intention of implementing principles in the HFA that called for democracy, respect for sovereignty, and human rights; yet Gorbachev ended up doing just that, at the cost of losing control in Eastern Europe. By 1988, Gorbachev realised that arms control agreements alone would not end the Cold War but the Soviet Union could end its international isolation by democratising itself and by respecting human rights. In other words, the CSCE achieved operational capabilities when there was widespread consensus on certain basic principles, when the major East-West problems had been resolved, and when military force was reduced to a minimal role. On the other hand, the political regimes in the southern Mediterranean rim are not fully democratic, and no general consensus exists on the means of becoming so. If in certain countries there are more checks on authority at specific times, these are instituted at the will of the ruling elites, rather than by real constitutional guarantees. Keohane notes: ‘Some actors, may be dishonest, and enter into agreements that they have no intention of fulfilling’.[435] What the above suggests is also what the Europeans fear most about relations with their Arab-Mediterranean partners, although such a fear has never been formally spelled out. Foreign policy in southern Mediterranean states is used to alleviate internal tensions and/or ‘to create consensus for the leadership’.[436] Consequently, consensus among these states is based to a significant degree on their capacity to pursue regional objectives that are firmly rooted in the collective identity - i.e., objectives that arouse, reinforce, and satisfy a popular sense of national, religious and cultural belonging.[437] The remaining question is whether a relatively stable regional order can be sustained in the Mediterranean, without incorporating a notion of rules of the game based on flexible compliance mechanisms and on a set of principles and norms of behaviour. In other words, whether the Barcelona regime should be held to a level of strict compliance through firm monitoring mechanisms or to that of overall compliance that Chayes and Handler call ‘acceptable’.[438] The view taken here is that, given the high levels of Mediterranean complexity and the diversity inherent in the interests of the actors involved, the latter method is better equipped to deal with the question of compliance. In building the envisaged order, any potential for strengthening the ‘effectiveness and the robustness[439] of the emerging Euro-Mediterranean regime, should focus at sustaining a reason-based and symbiotic environment.

 

4.4 Lessons Learned

The end of the Cold War unleashed widespread speculation on what the future of international politics would bring about: instability or unprecedented global co-operation; sovereign equality or great power domination; world democratic revolution or old-fashioned despotism; a ‘new world order’ or a return to previous eras of hypernationalism. International and regional orders are in transition after fifty ‘cold years’ and so are most international institutions and organisations formed during that era. Capturing the main international systemic dynamics in the early 1990s, Barber asserts that the world is ‘falling precipitantly apart and coming reluctantly together at the very same moment’.[440] The recent sea change in international politics has given rise to new thinking about ‘a new world order’, ‘the end of history’, ‘blood and nationalistic belongings’, ‘the clash of civilisations’, ‘coming chaos’, and ‘world disorders’. Added to the above prophecies is the fact that we are approaching the third millennium, something that has occasioned the gloomiest of prognostications. But as this troubled century draws to a close, there are reasons for being optimistic when looking at the future of international relations.

As too many forces of change function at the international level, world politics should not be taken as a historically frozen realm of power-hungry, but rather as a dynamic process incorporating within it new forms of international governance.[441] Moreover, the risks of a major war are at their lowest point, whilst complementary institutional structures have been created, formal and informal, to deal with various types of controversies, ranging from the economic to the strategic. Competition between international actors has become less dangerous and the multilateral regulation of problems less difficult to achieve. This requires new and constructive action in the fields of international regimes and organisations. Drawing from Vasquez, force and war as decision-making mechanisms are increasingly being replaced by new ways of reaching decisions.[442] A clear trend has thus emerged to replace unilateral relations and power politics behaviour with a multilateral institutionalised context.

In recent years we have seen the emergence of a form of regional multilateralism that binds together regions around the world into the global system. As a result, sub-national and regional actors are increasingly recognising that their futures are intermeshed and are taking steps to co-ordinate their relationships. Today, the multilateral management of international problems occupies a central position in political, socio-economic, environmental, and security issues. Yet, there is considerable debate and in some quarters disillusionment about the form, content, and prospects for multilateralism as an institutional form. The post-1989 growing integration of the world economy has also sparked new interest in multilateralism. States, non-governmental organisations and other transnational actors are responding to new and old problems on the global agenda. In the economic sphere, the existence of organisations such as the IMF, GATT (and now WTO), the World Bank, and an array of transnational networks suggest that the shift toward market liberalisation will be attended by important forms of multilateral regulation, management, and political lobbying. Multilateralism, then, is a particular (Western) way of bringing together international actors to support global co-operation, incorporating principles of non-discrimination and diffused reciprocity.[443]

As Axelrod put it, ‘the requirements for the emergence of cooperation have relevance to many of central issues of international politics’.[444] Undoubtedly, the lessons of the Helsinki experience for the EMP deserve particular attention. Such an experience in building pre- and post-Cold War European security suggests that balance of power, alliances, hegemonies, and deterrence have not entirely vanished from the European international landscape. During bipolarity, military threats to security dominated all others in the eyes of most international security specialists. The end of the Cold War, which arguably changed ‘all the answers and all the questions’,[445] has brought with it numerous suggestions that resources once devoted to coping with military threats can now be used to deal with issues of soft security. Neoliberal institutionalists hold that stability can be maintained through the construction of international institutions that stabilise domestic structures and facilitate co-operation.[446] As Adler suggests, ‘in the future, the foreign policy architects of the European security-community still must compete with and fight against strongly reified power-political practices and conflicting identities’.[447] The C/OSCE, having provided a process-framework to transcend Cold War tensions, and by continuing to redefine the way in which international organisations understand and practice security, casts doubt on mainstream realist arguments and their dismissal of the centrality of international institutions. In the process of constructing the Euro-Mediterranean space realist and idealist arguments seem to be both right: regimes are formed when the interests of actors converge around the idea that peace and prosperity is a necessity.

A good lesson from the Helsinki experiment is that the emergence of a comprehensive regime, covering all major areas of international relations - including even concrete normative commitments embraced by procedural rules - proved to be neither utopian nor unattainable. Analysis of the CSCE’s long journey has shown that international rules are crucial. The two superpowers established rules on crisis-management and crisis-prevention so as to reduce the danger of a major confrontation. In fact, these rules may have played a more important role in maintaining peace than did the MAD deterrence regime.[448]  A related issue concerns the process-fluctuation of the two projects. It is necessary to recall that in the 1970s and 1980s any fluctuation of the East-West relations had its impact on the progress of the HP. Its slow pace in the first two meetings in Belgrade and Madrid had nourished doubts about the adequacy and even the desirability of the whole process. The Middle East Peace Process breakdown has had similar impact over the BP, especially when considering the poor results of the Malta and Palermo Conferences. Thus, the lesson to be drawn here is that process-driven international arrangements should not be expected to have a linear development, but rather to evolve through a variety of ‘stop and go’ phases. In fact, the defragmentation of East-West relations resulted after long and arduous negotiations that lasted more than fifteen years. Thus, Höynck’s comment on the CSCE that ‘Patience was important then and it is important now’, holds equally true for the Barcelona project.[449] As stressed by Commission’s Vice-President Marín, it will certainly not be easy to achieve everything envisaged in the Barcelona Declaration. Rather, it is quite early to expect the BP to contribute significantly to a relaxation of protracted conflicts with deep historical or ideological background, such as the Arab-Israeli conflict, the Cyprus question, and Libya, to mention but a few. But it is legitimate to expect results in creating viable channels of inter-cultural communication for region-wide security to be achieved. To that end, regional co-operation should be linked to processes designed to close intra-regional socio-economic gaps. Nimitz explains: ‘The North/South Dimension is the key to the overall success of a Mediterranean security policy for the long term’.[450]

The Helsinki model of security regime-formation represents a good guide for the BP and its role in the transformation of Mediterranean relations. As the CSCE changed its scope to adapt to the new environment after the fall of the Berlin Wall, so the EMP has to adapt to the new conjuncture and revitalise a sense of process in the ‘divided’ Mediterranean, by acknowledging that co-operation amongst competing actors and assorted interests can generate confidence and normatively produce security. According to Fenech, ‘Replicating the OSCE on a minor scale through regional arrangements ... may be a good start as intermediary measures leading to a more comprehensive approach.... Adoption of the principle that Euro-Mediterranean security is one and indivisible on the basis of a full Euro-Mediterranean Partnership would be a confidence-building measure in itself, given that a relationship of parity has never existed between the northern and southern shores of the Mediterranean’.[451]

Another useful insight drawn from the evolution of the C/OSCE is the importance of preserving its process-characteristics to preserve flexibility, dynamism and continuity. This latter property of the system has become even more sophisticated by the provisions of the 1990 Paris Charter. But the HP proved as much a result of changing realities as an instrument of further changes. As previously mentioned, the HP successfully took additional steps in its transition from ‘Conference’ to ‘Organisation’. It logically follows that if the BP is to become a (more) meaningful approach to regional order-building, then a process of institutionalisation along the OSCE lines should be considered as the safest way to substantive regional co-operation. In this context, institutionalisation refers to ‘the development of practices and rules in the context of using them and has earned a variety of labels, including structuration and routinization, which refer to the development of codes of meaning, ways of reasoning, and accounts in the context of acting on them’.[452] Of course, OSCE structures cannot simply be reassigned to fit the current Euro-Mediterranean order-building process and lead to conditions that would satisfy both the aims of the Brussels headquarters and the expectations of south Mediterranean partners. Although the OSCE offers a clear-cut structure for collective security management, it is quite early to speak of such structures in the case of the BP, especially when considering the relatively limited progress made since 1995. Rather, it is more profitable to examine the possibility of creating mechanisms to fill the increasing socio-economic gap between the two Mediterranean shores and to manage political dialogue.

If history were efficient, then political practice used in the Helsinki process could adjust immediately to current Euro-Mediterranean developments.[453] Although the experience gained from Helsinki may be a useful model for security regime-creation and institutionalisation, it is probably a blunder to believe that it can simply be reassigned to fit the geo-political irregularities and endogenous complexities that define the Euro-Mediterranean system. In this framework, the CSCE became, in Adler’s terms, ‘the breeding ground of norms and new practices of peaceful change and a “conveyor belt” for their diffusion. In and through practice, however, the CSCE changed since the 1980s, and its strength was based mainly in the capacity to mobilise civil societies and groups of experts behind normative understanding and expectations of material and moral improvement’.[454]

The experience offered by the C/OSCE model goes even further, pointing in the direction that a ‘cognitive region’, along the lines of a security-community, or even more congruent organisational forms of collective governance, may develop on the basis of gradual institutionalisation and the sustenance of certain types of norms. But a security community is an arbitrary system, which is real and effective for certain areas of crisis but illusory and impossible for others. In the Mediterranean, it may be seen as nothing more than a currently inaccessible myth or a vague future objective. Such a process of community-building in the context of the nascent Euro-Mediterranean order need first to be accompanied by some degree of formalisation of decision-making procedures themselves.

All said, the HP experience is an insightful case to compare with the BP, as the first has completed its evolution from a process-structured system to one of political consultation, and then to a permanent institutional setting with operational capabilities. Such normative commitments have been explicitly undertaken in the real world of international diplomacy, where sovereignty-conscious states navigate their foreign policies in the pursuit of national gains. In practice, whether or not the CSCE norm-setting and norm-implementing experience can apply in the Mediterranean is a decision that rests with the partners to the EMP. But what is equally crucial to remember is that, difficult as it may be to project Cold War images of security regime-formation to the current Mediterranean reality, the expected benefits of such order-building process will be for all partners to share. In this context, analogical reasoning is of crucial importance if one takes into account that those directly involved in the EMP - i.e., Commission officials, national representatives etc. - pay close attention to the HP in an attempt to place the Mediterranean process in context and map their expectations.[455] As Ounais (Director General of Political Affairs in the Tunisian Foreign Ministry) noted: ‘For the first time in history, the Mediterranean is trying to find its way towards one comprehensive system, based on non-domination, and common principles rather than exclusive factors. The concept is not coexistence as was the European order before the Helsinki Act, which was based on balance of terror, but a system based on three premises: acceptance of equal rights for all nations, acceptance of free cooperation, and acceptance of differences in power, faith and ethnicity.  It will be indeed an unprecedented Mediterranean order’.[456]

By using the Helsinki experience either as a prototype, or as a representational base, or even as a ‘standard’ for the Barcelona project, this study has tested ideas from one unit of analysis to the other, and particularly from the transformation of the HP into a more congruent organisational structure to patterns of institutionalisation among Euro-Mediterranean partners. In the latter case, the emphasis has been on the limits and possibilities for empowering the EMP with the necessary knowledge to structure and manage a heterarchical order. The institutional structure of the OSCE, equipped with instruments for carrying out specific political and functional tasks, offers the EMP an operationally meaningful example. But one should not also forget that the success of order-building is predicated on the extent to which it can accommodate change without violence. Even if there are shortcomings in its functioning, the C/OSCE has been a success story, albeit of a relatively low-profile as compared to more advanced experiments in regional organisation. According to Gyarmati: ‘An instrument of preventive diplomacy very rarely hits the headlines. It does not in itself make headlines’.[457] The mechanisms, instruments and organs for co-operative conflict-resolution that have been successfully used in the HP may help to the realisation of the BP’s security objectives. These mechanisms have proven to be real workhorses of the international community in its efforts to control conflicts within states, lubricate change among states, and maintain order in post-1989 Europe. They can be essential elements in reassuring Mediterranean neighbours, reinforcing common interests, opening lines of communication, breaking deadlocks, and promoting regional security. The Permanent Council in Vienna, the CiO assisted by the Troika, the HCNM, and finally the ODIHR in Warsaw are particularly useful referents for the creation of analogous mechanisms to strengthen the EMP. It is in this sense that the experience gained from the study of the multifaceted transformation of Europe reveals some clear and practical lessons for the development of the Euro-Mediterranean project.

Limited as it may be, the potential for systematising regional conflict-prevention and conflict-management in the Mediterranean awaits utilisation. This issue was also raised at the Second Ministerial Conference in Malta, without however achieving any significant institutional progress. Working on the concept of co-operative security implies maximum use of non-military mechanisms, and less use of military or defence structures. But co-operative security is essentially about prevention, and is also linked to improving transparency and the predictability of factors that characterise security considerations in the region. Historically, European nations have used conflict-prevention as a means to an end: to strengthen their sense of security. Throughout the Cold War, security regimes eased East–West confrontation and helped to prevent superpower conflict. The post-1989 Helsinki experience showed that even today security regimes remain effective policy tools. It has been widely held that conflict prevention sets an ambitious but well suited objective that fits the nature of the OSCE, as compared to more limited regional and sub-regional security settings in Europe. As Spencer points out, ‘where OSCE is the confidence-building institution par excellence, elements of its approaches and vocabulary have crept into the policies of other organisations. This is most evident in the EU’s Euro-Mediterranean Partnership’.[458] In this context, the HP offers a suitable model of institutionalising the EMP, as it has evolved from a ‘process-driven system’ to an ‘international organisation’ with its own organs and operational capabilities.

The adoption of C/OSCE-like mechanisms and monitoring structures by the EMP would be a welcome development, for such instruments carry out specific tasks that help transform the EMP’s constitutive principles into political achievement. A difficulty here is that the EMP has not yet operationalised or even regularised political co-operation, despite the adoption of the Action Plan that was set out at the beginning of the BP. Aliboni writes: While the Action Plan would be a list of measures and policies that the Partners would pick up and negotiate over time according to priorities and modes they would remain free to gradually agree upon, the Charter would be an institutional framework with a normative ambition and a stronger mechanism of political dialogue’.[459] Speaking of tangible endeavours, Calleya suggests that ‘the 27 partner countries must introduce a basic type of confidence-building measure, a network that will enable them to manage and contain the large number of security challenges that risk upsetting stability across the Euro-Med area’.[460] The complexity stemming from the nature of protracted conflicts and threat (mis)perceptions constrain the implementation of the agreed PBMs. Therefore, the establishment of conflict-prevention mechanisms should provide PBMs with minimal capacity to intervene on real or potential conflict situations. According to EuroMeSCo, such mechanisms must have a non-military nature and, whenever related in some way to military factors, they must have a ‘slowly- or non-evolutive character’.[461]

 

4.5 The Normative Question

The normative question raised in this study is whether international regimes really matter in complex, fragile and fragmented orders. Although international scholarship has conceived of regimes in several ways, the most common amongst them combines elements of realism and liberalism. Realism stresses the centrality of states in international politics, describing them as autonomous units that constantly seek to maximise their own interests within an anarchic context. Liberalism, on the other hand, by not dismissing the importance of states in the international system, emphasises the increasing role of institutions in international governance. It follows that regimes do not play a role in issues where states can realise their own interests directly through unilateral applications of leverage. Rather, regimes come into existence to overcome collective goods dilemmas by means of co-ordinating the actors’ behaviour. Although the latter continue to seek their own interests, they also create common frameworks and institutions to structure and co-ordinate collective action. This is where regimes offer an indispensable service, by making international co-operation possible even within diverse and fragmented orders such as the Euro-Mediterranean heterarchy. As Keohane put it: ‘To be effective in the twenty-first century, modern democracy requires international institutions’.[462] The latter are used by the states to foresee and predict the responses of other states. Patterns of mutual expectations and reciprocal behaviour represent the very fabric of an order sustained by the rule-governed interactions, offering a framework for further agreement, encouraging transactions, and reducing cheating among states.

Institutionalists believe that ‘in a world politics constrained by state power and divergent interests, and unlikely to experience effective hierarchical governance, international institutions operating on the basis of reciprocity will be components of any lasting peace’.[463] Although claiming too much for the effectiveness of institutionalised governance in the Mediterranean might prove a ‘false promise’,[464] the structural realist dismissal of institutions as epiphenomena is not sustainable: institutions reshape states’ definitions of interests and patterns of interaction.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



[1] G. King, R. O. Keohane and S. Verba, Designing Social Inquiry: Scientific Inference in Qualitative Research, Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1994, p. 82.

[2] J. P. Olsen and B. G. Peters, ‘Learning from Experience’, ARENA Reprints, No 96/5, 1996, p. 28.

[3] B. Rothstein, ‘Political Institutions: An Overview’, in R. E. Goodin and H. D. Klingemann (eds.) A New Handbook of Political Science, Oxford University Press, Oxford 1996.

[4] D. Collier, ‘The Comparative Method’, in A. Finifter (ed.), Political Science: The State of the Discipline, American Political Science Association, Washington, DC, 1993, p. 112.

[5] L. R. Novick, ‘Analogic transfer: Processes and individual differences’, in D. H. Helman, Analogical reasoning, Reidel, Dordrecht Netherlands, 1988, p. 125.

[6] Ibit, p. 125

[7] S. Vosniadou and A. Ortony (eds.), Similarity and analogical reasoning, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1989.

[8] O. R. Young (ed.), Global Governance: Drawing Insights from the Environmental Experience, MIT Press, Cambridge, MA, 1997, pp. 5-6.

[9] As Stein argues, ‘[c]omplexity is almost a theological concept; many people talk about it, but nobody knows what “it” really is. For example, organizations and systems are often called complex, not because they are seen as dynamic and adaptive, but because they defy easy notions as to how they are organized or function’. D. L. Stein (ed.), Lectures in the Sciences of Complexity, Addison-Wesley, Redwood City CA., 1989, p. xiii.

[10] P. Taylor, International Co-operation Today: The European and the Global Patterns, Elek, London, 1971.

[11] M. Landau, ‘On the uses of metaphors in Political Analysis’, Social Research, Vol. 28, 1961, pp. 334-335.

[12] E. E. Agnoletti, ‘The Difficult Construction of a Coherent Policy’, Politica Internazionale, Vol. 5 No 1, 1986, p. 5.

[13] Valletta (1979), Venice (1984), and Palma di Mallorca (1990).

[14] V. Y. Ghebali, ‘Toward a Mediterranean Helsinki-Type Process’, Mediterranean Quarterly, Vol. 4 No 1, 1993, p. 92.

[15] D. Fenech, ‘A Euro-Mediterranean Partnership: Whose Security?’, paper presented at the Conference on Prospects after Barcelona, organised by MEDAC, Malta, March 1996.

[16] During the Paris Ministerial Summit Meeting of the ‘Euro-Arab Dialogue’, Italian Foreign Minister de Michelis stated that the time had come to extend the spirit of Helsinki to the Mediterranean and the Middle East, and thereby foster democracy and economic development in the region. On 12 February 1990, in Ottawa, at the Open Skies Conference, Spanish Foreign Minister Ordoñez, repeated that it would be advisable to extend the HP to the Mediterranean. On 20 February in Dublin, he suggested the idea at an EPC meeting. Madrid and Rome further discussed the possibility of formally launching the project at the next CSCE Conference in Mallorca in September 1990 and agreed to associate France and Portugal to it. Finally, in May 1990, Spain, Portugal, France, and Italy held their first quadripartite meeting.

[17] G. Munuera and H. Wrede, ‘Prospects for Security and Cooperation in the Mediterranean after the PLO-Israel Agreement: A CSCM Revisited?’, Helsinki Monitor, No 2, 1994, pp.  48-59.

[18] See B. G. Peters, Comparative Politics: Theory and Methods, Macmillan, London 1998, p. 56; Cf. A. Przeworski and H. Tenue, The Logic of Comparative Social Inquiry, Wiley-Interscience, New York, 1970.

[19] P.  Harris, Foundations of Political Science, Second Edition, Huchinson and Co, London, 1976, p. 71.

[20] H. Teune, ‘Comparing Countries: Lessons Learned’, in E. Oyen (ed.), Comparative Methodology: Theory and Practice in International Social Research, Sage, London, 1990, pp. 53-54.

[21] G. Sartori, ‘Comparing and Miscomparing’, Journal of Theoretical Politics, Vol. 3, 1991, pp. 243-257.

[22] Peters, op. cit., 1998, p. 86.

[23] J. Kinnas and A. J. R. Groom, ‘Association’, in A. J. R. Groom and P. Taylor (eds.), Frameworks for International Cooperation, Pinter, London, 1990, pp. 70-77.

[24] Peters, op. cit., pp. 23-25.

[25] A. Kohli, P. Evans, P. J. Katzenstein, A. Przeworski, S. Hoeber, J. C. Scott, and T. Skocpol, ‘The Role of Theory in Comparative Politics: A Symposium’, World Politics, Vol. 48 No 1, 1996, pp. 1-49..

[26] Détente, in modern diplomatic parlance designates a phase in which tensions between opposing powers have relaxed but without a definitive settlement or any assurance that relations will not worsen again.

[27] Y. Laulan, ‘East-West Economic Relations’, NATO Review, Vol. 21 No 2, 1973, pp. 15-16. Cf. P. Hanson, ‘Economic aspects of Helsinki’, International Affairs, Vol. 61 No 4, Autumn 1985, pp. 619-622.

[28] Quoted in L. Halle, The Cold War as History, Harper Perennial, New York, 1991, pp. 103-4.

[29] H. Kissinger, Diplomacy, Touchstone Books, New York, 1994, p. 759.

[30] V. Mastny, The Helsinki Process and the Reintegration of Europe, 1986-1991. Analysis and Documentation, New York University Press, London and New York, 1992, p. 1.

[31] In fact, it did not establish any new set of human rights or fundamental freedoms; it mainly reaffirmed provisions already laid down in UN conventions, elevating them to an important an aspect of security.

[32] See G. Moritz, ‘From Sputnik to NDEA: The Changing Role of Science During the Cold War’, unpublished manuscript, http://www.fas.harvard.edu/~gmoritz/papers/j3.html, 1999.

[33] See M. J. Medhurst, et al. (eds.), Cold war rhetoric: strategy, metaphor, and ideology, Greenwood Press, New York, 1990.

[34] J. L. Gaddis, Russia, the Soviet Union and the United States: An Interpretative History, Alfred A. Knopf, 1978, p. 1.

[35] See G. Orwell, In Front of Your Nose 1945-1950, Vol. 4, 3rd ed., Penguin Books, London 1992.

[36] For an excellent collection of documents on the ‘Red Scare’ see A. Fried, (ed.), McCarthyism: The Great American Red Scare: A Documentary History, Oxford University Press, New York, 1997.

[37] R. Jervis, R. N. Lebow and J. G. Stein, Psychology and Deterrence, John Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, 1985.

[38] See further in E. J. Rhodes (ed.), Power and MADness: the logic of nuclear coercion, Columbia University Press, New York, 1989.

[39] B. Weisberger, Cold War, Cold Peace: the United States and Russia since 1945, American Heritage Press, New York, 1985, pp. 171-173.

[40] Agnew and Corbidge, op. cit., p. 65.

[41] D. Calleo, ‘NATO and some lessons of history’, in J. Golden et. al. (eds.), NATO at forty: Change, Continuity and Prospects, Westview, London 1989.

[42] A. G. V. Hyde-Price, ‘The system level: The changing topology of Europe’, in G. Wyn Rees (ed.), International Politics in Europe: The New Agenda, Routledge, London and New York, 1993, p. 16.

[43] A. De Porte, Europe Between the Superpowers, Yale University Press, London, 1979.

[44] See H. Wallace, ‘The Europe that came in from the cold’, International Affairs, Vol. 67 No 4, October 1991, pp. 647-663..

[45] M. Cox, ‘The cold war system’, Critique, Vol. 17, pp. 17-82.

[46] Molotov’s proposal was perceived from the West as an endeavour to block ratification of the Paris Agreements, by which West Germany was rearmed and integrated into the newly instituted NATO.

[47] Rotfeld, op. cit., 1984, p. 16.

[48] Fundamental to German Chancellor Brandt’s Ostpolitik was to ‘keep alive the concept of the continued existence of one German people and one German nation’.

[49] R. Legrod, ‘The Problem of European Security’, Problems of Communism, Jan-Feb. 1974, p. 26.

[50] V. Mastny, ‘The Helsinki process and a new framework of European Security’, in J. Story, (ed.), The New Europe: Politics, Government and Economy since 1945. Blackwells, Oxford, 1993, p. 422.

[51] See M. Bowker and P. Williams, ‘Helsinki and West European Security’, International Affairs, Vol. 61 No 4, Autumn 1985, p. 607; and S. Flanagan, ‘The CSCE and the development of détente’, in D. Leebaert (ed.), European Security Prospects for the 1980s. Lexington, Heath, 1979, p. 189.

[52] A. Bloed, From Helsinki to Vienna: Basic Documents of the Helsinki Process, London, 1990, p. 2.

[53] These countries were Austria, Belgium, Bulgaria, Canada, Cyprus, Czechoslovakia, Denmark, Finland, France, the German Democratic Republic, the Federal Republic of Germany, Greece, Hungary, Iceland, Ireland, Italy, Liechtenstein, Luxembourg, Malta, Monaco, the Netherlands, Norway, Poland, Portugal, Romania, San Marino, the Soviet Union, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, Turkey, the United Kingdom, the United States and Yugoslavia.

[54] R. Legrold, ‘The Problem of European Security’, Problems of Communism, Jan/Feb 1974, p. 26.

[55] S. Lehne, The Vienna Meeting of the Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe: A Turning Point in East-West Relations, Oxford, 1991, p. 4.

[56] On this point see F. Cameron, ‘The European Union and the OSCE: Future Roles and Challenges’, Helsinki Monitor, Vol. 6, No 2, 1995, pp. 21-31, especially the introduction.

[57] Maresca, op. cit., p.133.

[58] Ibid, p.133.

[59] Maresca, op. cit., p. 5.

[60] R. Spencer (ed.), Canada and the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe, Toronto 1984, p. 158.

[61] W. Höynck, ‘From Adversaries to Partners: CSCE Experience in Building Confidence’, Speech at the Tel Aviv University, Jaffe Center for Strategic Studies, Tel Aviv, 5 March 1995.

[62] Accordingly, the governments of all 35 CSCE states undertook to notify their partners, not less than 21 days in advance, of their ground force manoeuvres with or without air and naval components, which exceeded a total of 25,000 personnel. The provisions also provided for notification of sub-threshold manoeuvres and military movements, and for the invitation of observers to manoeuvres of any size.

[63] However, the effort to achieve balance within these parameters foundered. After more than ten years the MBFR negotiations ended without any formal result. They did, however, prepare the ground for new and successful negotiations on CFE.

[64] G. Edwards, ‘The Madrid follow-up to the Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe’, International Relations, May 1984, p. 64.

[65] M. Van Der Stoel, ‘The Heart of the Matter: The Human Dimension of the OSCE’, Helsinki Monitor, Vol. 6, No. 3, 1995, http://www.fsk.ethz.ch/osce/h_monit/hel95_3/stoel.htm, (23 March 1999).

[66] Masty, op. cit., 1993, p. 422.

[67] For a detailed analysis of the third basket see G. Edwards, ‘Human Rights and Basket III Issues: areas of change and continuity’, International Affairs, Vol. 61 No 4, Autumn 1985, pp. 631-642.

[68] Not only in the classical Deutschian notion, but also along the lines suggested by Adler. See respectively, K. W. Deutsch et al. Political Community and the North Atlantic Area, Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1957; and E. Adler ‘Imagined (Security) Communities: Cognitive Regions in International Relations’, Millennium, Vol. 26 No 2, 1997.

[69] Later, the Soviet invasion in Afghanistan almost brought the CSCE to a halt, as did the imposition of martial law in Poland that almost paralysed political dialogue in Europe.

[70] R. Davy, ‘No Progress at Belgrade’, The World Today, Vol. 33, April 1978, p. 128.

[71] Lehne, op. cit., p. 16.

[72] Ibid, p.16-17.

[73] K. Birnbaum, ‘Alignments in Europe: the CSCE Experience’, The World Today, Vol. 37, 1981, p. 221.

[74] The Western proposals included, inter alia, non-discrimination against applicants for foreign travel, reduced fees for visas and passports, provisions on family reunifications, etc.  See also A. Bloed and P. Van Dijk (ed.), Essays on Human Rights in the Helsinki Process, Dordrecht, Boston, Lancaster, 1985.

[75] Lehne, op. cit., p. 22.

[76] The Madrid FUM made provision for five more specialised meetings on a variety of subjects: a meeting on the peaceful settlement of disputes in Athens in 1984; a seminar on Mediterranean co-operation in Venice in 1984; a human rights meeting in Ottawa in 1985; a cultural forum in Budapest in 1985; and a meeting on human dimension in Bern in 1986. As for the Valletta Conference, Mediterranean countries outside Europe were invited (of which, only Egypt, Israel, and Syria participated) to discuss issues on economic, scientific and cultural co-operation in the region. Twenty-three recommendations for co-operation in these fields were adopted in March 1979. On the other hand, the Montreux Conference ended on 11 December 1978 without reaching agreement on three different concepts of settlement procedures, but it agreed on an eight point basis for settling international disputes, recommending that the Madrid FUM should consider the holding of a further conference of experts on the subject.

[77] K. Birnbaum and I. Peters, ‘The CSCE: a reassessment of its role in the 1980s’, Review of International Studies, Vol. 16 No 4, Oct., 1990, p. 615.

[78] A. Bloed, The Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe: Analysis and Basic Documents, Martinus Nijhof, Netherlands, 1993, p. 18.

[79] Lehne, op. cit., p. 24.

[80] Mastny, op. cit., 1993, p. 426.

[81] Lehne, op. cit., p. 23.

[82] Concluding Document from the Stockholm Conference, 1986.

[83] This mechanism contained four elements: exchange of information, bilateral meetings, notification of all CSCE states, and raising issues at certain CSCE meetings.

[84] For the purpose of its implementation and further improvement of its provisions, the Vienna document endorsed the decision to convene an information forum in London in April 1989; a Conference on economic co-operation in Bonn in March 1990; a meeting of experts on the peaceful settlement of disputes in Valetta in January 1991; and a symposium on the cultural heritage of the CSCE in Cracow in May 1991. A. Bloed, The Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe: Analysis and Basic Documents, Martinus Nijhof, Netherlands, 1993, p. 57.

[85] The CFE Treaty was finally signed in Paris in November 1990, introducing deep reductions in the heavy weaponry of conventional forces. See Höynck, op. cit., p. 4.

[86] These included the creation of a ‘Council for European Co-operation’, a ‘European Security Commission’, and a trilateral initiative with far-reaching institutional ideas for the development of the HP.

[87] See A. D. Rotfield, ‘New Security structures in Europe: concepts, proposals and decisions’, in Stockholm International Peace Research Institute, Yearbook 1991: World Armament and Disarmament. Oxford University Press, Oxford, pp. 585-600.

[88] The PrepCom did not limit itself to its specific tasks in Copenhagen, but within its framework the 1990 Paris Charter for a New Europe was formulated and edited.

[89] In 1991 the CSCE organised the Geneva Meeting of Experts on National Minorities, which added provisions to the growing body of guidelines for policies on national minorities issues In fact the Report of the Geneva Meeting includes what has become known as ‘the shopping list’, a sizeable catalogue of potentially constructive measures for addressing such issues.

[90] Höynck, op. cit., p. 5.

[91] See respectively, W. Wallace, The Transformation of Western Europe, Chatham House Papers, RIIA Pinter, London 1990; and H. Miall (ed.), Redefining Europe: New Patterns of Conflict and Cooperation, RIIA, Pinter, London and New York 1994.

[92] M. Mandelbaum, (ed.), The New Russian Foreign Policy, The Brookings Institution, Washington DC, 1998.

[93] F. Carr and P. Starie, ‘Structure and Change in International Order’, in F. Carr, (ed.), Europe: The Cold Divide, MacMillan, London, 1998, p. 1.

[94] J. Mayall and H. Miall, ‘Conclusion: Towards a Redefinition of European Order’, in Miall (ed.), op. cit., p. 262.

[95] R. F. Lehman II, ‘Global and Part-Regional Trends in Arms Control and Confidence Building: Implications for the Mediterranean Region, North Africa and the Middle East’, in F. Tanner (ed.), Arms Control, Confidence-Building and Security Cooperation in the Mediterranean, North Africa and the Middle East, MEDAC, Malta 1994.

[96] See further in A. Politi, ‘European Security: The New Transnational Risks’, Chaillot Papers, No 29, Institute for Security Studies, Western European Union, Paris, October 1997.

[97] P. Hassner, ‘Change and Security in Europe: In Search of a System’, Adelphi Papers, No 49, Part II, IISS, London 1968, p. 21.

[98] Ibid, p. 4.

[99] F. Heisbourg, Challenges to European Security and How to Meet Them, Speech to the European Movement’s Conference on European Foreign and Security Policies, 7 June 1991, note 20, p. 6.

[100] W. Park and G. Wyn Rees (ed.), Rethinking Security in Post-Cold War Europe, Longman, London and New York 1998; O. Waever, ‘Insecurity, security, and asecurity in the West European non-war community’, in Adler E. and M. Barnett (ed.), Security Communities, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1998, pp. 69-118.

[101] A. Kortunov, ‘Regional and International Institutions in Conflict Prevention and Peacekeeping’, in G. W. Lapidus and S. Tsalik (eds.), Preventing Deadly Conflict: Strategies and Institutions, A Report to the Carnegie Commission on Preventing Deadly Conflict, Carnegie Corporation of New York, 1994.

[102] See P. Van Ham, ‘Europe’s security garden?’, Helsinki Monitor, Vol. 8 No. 2, 1997, and I. Peters (ed.), New Security Challenges: The Adaptation of International Institutions, Lit Verlag, St. Martins Press, New York 1996, pp. 11-18.

[103] R. O. Keohane and J. S. Nye, ‘Introduction: The End of the Cold War in Europe’, in R. O. Keohane, J. J. Nye and S. Hoffman, (eds.), After the Cold War: International Institutions and State Strategies in Europe, 1989-1991, Harvard University press, Harvard, 1993, p. 2.

[104] V. Rittberger (ed.), International Regimes in East-West Politics, Pinter, London 1990, p. 256.

[105] European Commission, ‘The Future of North-South Relations. Towards Sustainable Economic and Social Development’, CAHIERS, Forward Studies Unit, Secretariat-General, Luxembourg, 1997.

[106] See C. Zaldivar, ‘The conditions for peace’, in N. Gnesotto (ed.), War and Peace: European Conflict Prevention, Chaillot Papers, No 11, Institute for Security Studies, Paris, October 1993.

[107] A. Moravcsik (ed.), Centralization or Fragmentation?  Europe Before the Challenges of Deepening, Diversity, and  Democracy, The Brookings Institution, Washington DC 1998. For the enlargement towards the countries of Central and Eastern Europe see: H. Grabbe and K. Hughes, Eastward Enlargement of the European Union, RIIA, London 1997.

[108] A. D. Rotfeld, ‘Europe: in search of cooperative security’, in SIPRI Yearbook 1997, Armaments, Disarmament and International Security, Oxford University Press, Oxford 1997.

[109] See further here in, H. Klebes, ‘The Quest for Democratic Security’, Peaceworks, No 26, United States Institute of Peace, 1998.

[110] I. Gambles, ‘Conclusion: prospects for the expansion of the European security-community’, in I. Gambles (ed.), A Lasting Peace in Central Europe?, Challot Papers, No 20, Institute for Security Studies of Western European Union, Paris, October 1995.

[111] R. Weitz, ‘Pursuing Military Security in Eastern Europe’, in Keohane, Nye and Hoffman, (eds.), op. cit., pp. 346-347.

[112] U. De Vito, Vade Mecum: An Introduction to the “Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe, Center for Security Studies and Conflict Research, ETH Zurich, 1996, p. 6.

[113] I. Peters, ‘The “Old” and the “New” CSCE Institutional Quality and Political Meaning’, in. Peters (ed.), op. cit., 1996, p. 86

[114] A. Bloed, The Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe: Analysis and Basic Documents, 1975-1993, Kluer Academic Publishers, Dordrecht, 1993, p. 61.

[115] Charter of Paris for a New Europe, 21 November 1990.

[116] The idea of creating a Parliamentary Assembly had already appeared in the London Declaration adopted by NATO Heads of State and Government in July 1990. See R. Estrella, ‘The CSCE and the creation of a Parliamentary Assembly’, NATO Review, Vol. 39 No 5, Oct 1991.

[117] It is necessary that 13 participants demand such a meeting. However, if a decision is to be taken as a result of such a meeting, it still requires the agreement of all participants.

[118] J. Dienstbier, ‘The Future of European Security. Prague Conference confirms agreement on basic ideas’, NATO Review, Vol. 39 No 3, June 1991, p. 2

[119] C. Anstis, ‘CSCE Mark II: Back to Helsinki from Paris via Berlin and Prague’, NATO Review, Vol. 40, No. 2, 1992, p. 21.

[120] Latvia, Lithouania and Estonia had already joined the CSCE at the Moscow Meeting on the Human Dimension in September 1991.

[121] A practical achievement in Prague, however, was the ‘Declaration for Non-Proliferation and Arms Transfers’.

[122] Anstis, op. cit., p. 22.

[123] See criticism in P. Simic, ‘The West and the Yugoslav Crisis’, Review of International Affairs, Vol. XLI No. 970, 1991.

[124] W. Höynck, ‘The OSCE’s Contribution to new Stability’, Speech at the Seminar on Post Cold War Europe - Organizations in Search of new Roles, Helsinki, 10 May 1995, p. 5.

[125] V. Y. Ghebali, ‘The July CSCE Helsinki Decisions: A Step in the Right Direction’, NATO Review, Vol. 40 No 4, August 1992, p. 3.

[126] Peace-enforcement activities are, according to Article 53 of the UN Charter, a prerogative of the UN Security Council. CSCE states explicitly excluded the principle option contained in the UN Charter of implementing enforcement measures on behalf of the UN. See further I. Peters, ‘CSCE and Peacekeeping: An Institution and its Instrument as “Victims” of Conflicting State Interests’, in D. Haglund, H. G. Ehrhart (eds.), The “New Peacekeeping” and European Security: German and Canadian Interests and Issues,.Nomos Baden-Baden, 1995, pp. 107-126

[127] T. Sneek (ed.), ‘Complementarity and Cooperation: The OSCE as part of a European Security Model for the 21st Century’, Helsinki Monitor, Vol. 7 No 4, 1996, http://www.fsk.ethz.ch/osce/h_monit/hel96_4/sneek.htm, (23 March 1999).

[128] M. Van Der Stoel, ‘The role of the CSCE High Commissioner on National Minorities in CSCE conflict prevention’, CSCE High Commissioner on National Minorities contribution to the Seminar on The CSCE as a security tool in Europe: Which role for the CSCE?, Brussels, 4 June 1994, p. 7.

[129] Ghebali, op. cit., 1992, p. 5.

[130] V. Y. Ghebali, ‘The CSCE Forum for Security Co-operation: The Opening Gambits’, NATO Review, Vol. 41 No 3, June 1993, p. 23.

[131] The establishment of the FSC put an end to a situation where the CSCE was relegated to the negotiation of CSBMs because it could not be involved in disarmament negotiations. The FSC laid the groundwork for a new approach to military aspects of security in post-communist European politics, while ‘it created an original instrument given its functions, its programme (Immediate Action), as well as the areas of application of that programme’. Ibid, p. 27.

[132] Six specific topics for negotiation were defined: ‘The harmonization of obligations contracted by CSCE states under the various international agreements covering conventional forces in Europe; the development of CSBMs set out in the Vienna Document 1992; the adoption of new stabilizing and confidence-building measures including constraints, addressing force generation capabilities of active and non-active forces; the development of a world-wide system for the exchange, on an annual basis of military information (covering weapons, supplies and production); cooperation in the fields of non-proliferation and international arms transfers and, the adoption of regional arms reduction and arms limitation measures’. Concluding Document from Helsinki Meeting 1992, op. cit.

[133] Ghebali, op. cit., 1993, p. 28.

[134] In the Budapest Document, the transition from the CSCE to the OSCE has been conceived more in formal than in actual terms. On this see V. Y. Ghebali, ‘After the Budapest Conference: The Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe’, NATO Review, Vol. 43 No 2, 1995, pp. 25-26.

[135] W. Höynck, ‘From Adversaries to Partners: CSCE Experience in Building Confidence’, Speech at the Tel Aviv University M. Kuriel Center for International Studies, Jaffe Center for Strategic Studies, Tel Aviv, 5 March 1995.

[136] Netherlands Helsinki Committee: A Focus On the Future: Using an Enhanced Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe. A Contribution to the Budapest Review Conference, Utrecht 15 August 1994.

[137] W. Höynck, ‘CSCE works to develop its conflict prevention potential’, NATO Review, Vol. 42 No 2, April 1994, p. 17.

[138] W. Höynck, ‘The Current Situation of Regional Security Co-operation and its Future, from European Viewpoint’, Speech at the Ninth Meeting of the International Security Forum, Tokyo, 12 February 1996.

[139] Ibid, p. 26.

[140] Currently, this has been integrated into NATO’s ‘Partnership for Peace’ (PfP) programme. See M. O’Hanlon, ‘Transforming NATO: The Role of European Forces’, Survival, Vol. 39 No 2, 1997, p. 12.

[141] Ghebali, op. cit., 1995, p. 27.

[142] Given the Summit’s disappointing outcome, and falling short of reasonable expectations, the Code of Conduct was not even open for signature by the Heads of States. Instead, it was merely incorporated in the Budapest Concluding Document.

[143] From the very beginning of the Helsinki consultations, the five ‘non-participating’ Mediterranean States (Algeria, Egypt, Israel, Morocco and Tunisia) were invited to contribute to the CSCE. Since December 1995, these countries have been known as ‘Mediterranean Partners for Co-operation’.

[144] Syria, Lebanon and Libya still have no connection with the OSCE.

[145] M. Hanson, ‘Democratisation and Norm Creation in Europe’, European Security After the Cold War, Part I, Adelphi Papers, No 284, Brassey’s for IISS, pp. 28-41.

[146] K. J. Huber, ‘The CSCE and Ethnic Conflict in the East’, RFE/RL Research Reports, Vol. 2 No 31, 1993, pp. 23-30.

[147] S. Croft, Strategies of Arms Control. A History and Typology, Manchester University Press, Manchester 1996, pp. 121-125.

[148] The Dayton Agreement gave two basic tasks to the OSCE: to organise and carry out negotiations on CBMs and arms control in Bosnia-Herzegovina, Croatia, and Yugoslavia; and to organise elections in Bosnia-Herzegovina. Negotiations on military issues were successfully completed in time, agreements were concluded, and the elections in Bosnia-Herzegovina, save for local elections, were carried out. 

[149] K. J. Huber, ‘The CSCE’s New Role in the East’, RFE/RL Research Reports, Vol. 3 No 31, 1994, pp. 30-36.

[150] P. Neville-Jones, ‘Dayton, IFOR and Alliance Relations in Bosnia’, Survival, Vol. 38 No 4, Winter 1996-97, p. 63.

[151] By 1996 the OSCE’s constant shortage of finance and resources was becoming even more of a liability. This was embarrassingly evident in the Bosnia Mission.

[152] This has been the case with the HCNM, the ODIHR, and the Missions. The need for greater co-ordination between the HCNM and the Missions was highlighted by the HCNM himself in his report to the Vienna Review Meeting. See M. V. D. Stoel, ‘Report to the OSCE Review Meeting’, Vienna 4-21 November 1996, Ref. RM/71/96, November 1996, p. 11.

[153] Sneek, op. cit., p.11.

[154] E. Adler, ‘Seeds of peaceful change: the OSCE’s security community-building model’, in Adler and Barnett (eds.), op. cit., p. 148.

[155] I. Peters, op. cit., 1996, p. 120.

[156] See more analytically in G. Munuera, ‘Preventing Armed Conflict in Europe: Lessons From Recent Experience’, Chaillot Papers, 15/16, Institute for Security Studies, Western European Union, Paris 1994.

[157] R. Zaagman (ed.), ‘To change our perceptions: The economy, ecology and European security’, Helsinki Monitor, Vol. 7 No 3, 1996, http://www.fsk.ethz.ch/osce/h_monit/hel96_3/zaagman2.htm, (23 March 1999).

[158] R. Zaagman,  ‘Focus on the Future: A Contribution to Discussions on a new OSCE’, Helsinki Monitor, Vol. 6 No 3, 1995, http://www.fsk.ethz.ch/osce/h_monit/hel95_3/zaagman.htm, (23 march 1999).

[159] Höynck, op. cit., 1994.

[160] Ferraris, op. cit. p. 59.

[161] K. Birbaum, ‘Lessons of the Past, Guidelines for the Future’ in N. Andrén and K. Birnbaum, (ed), op. cit., p. 67.

[162] J. Baker, ‘CSCE: Building Together For the Future’, Current Policy, No 1304, Washington DC, 1990.

[163] Andrén and Birnbaum, op. cit., p. 90.

[164] K. Joon Hong, The CSCE Security Regime Formation, Macmillan, London 1997, pp. 183-185.

[165] W. Korey, Human Rights and the Helsinki Accord: Focus on US Policy, New York 1983, p. 18.

[166] V. Mastny, The Helsinki Process and the Reintegration of Europe, 1986-1991. Analysis and Documentation, New York University Press, London and New York, 1992, p. 8.

[167] V. Y. Ghebali, La Diplomatie de la Détente: La CSCE, D’Helsinki d’Vienne (1973-1989), Bruxelles 1989, p. 392.

[168] V. Mastny, ‘The Helsinki process and a new framework of European Security’, in J. Story, (ed.), The New Europe: Politics, Government and Economy since 1945, Blackwells, Oxford, 1993, p. 429.

[169] D. N. Chryssochoou, M. Tsinisizelis, S. Stavridis and K. Ifantis, Theory and reform in the European Union, Manchester University Press, Manchester and New York, 1999.

[170] See I. Peters, op. cit., 1996, pp. 85-122.

[171] E. B. Haas, When Knowledge is Power: Three Models of Change in International Organizations, University of California Press, Berkeley, 1990, pp. 63-96.

[172] M. Van Der Stoel, ‘Political Order, Human Rights, and Development’, Introduction of the CSCE High Commissioner on National Minorities to the seminar on Conflict and Development: Causes, Effects, and Remedies, Institute Clingendael, The Hague, 24 March 1994.

[173] Höynck, op. cit., 1995.

[174] S. Lehne, The Vienna Meeting of the Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe: A Turning Point in East-West Relations, Oxford, 1991.

[175] A. Heraclides, Security and Co-operation in Europe: The Human Dimension, 1972 - 1990, Frank Cass, London, 1993; and A. Heraclides, Helsinki II and its Aftermath: The making of the CSCE into an International Organisation, Pinter, London, 1993.

[176] G. Kummel, ‘From Yesterday to Tomorrow - CSCE/OSCE at Twenty: Achievements of the Past and Challenges of the Future’, OSCE ODIHR Bulletin, Winter 1995/1996, p. 13.

[177] L. Acimovic, ‘OSCE in the Post-Cold War International Relations in Europe’, CSS Survey, No 14, Center for Strategic Studies, Belgrade, February 1997.

[178] V. Y. Ghebali, ‘The CSCE in the Post Cold War Europe’, NATO Review, Vol. 39 No 2, April 1991.

[179] Adler, op. cit., p. 148.

[180] See O. Weaver, et. al., Identity, Migration and the New Security Agenda in Europe, St. Martin’s Press, New York, 1993, pp. 17-20.

[181] Peters, op. cit., 1996, p. 121.

[182] Syria, Libya and the Balkan countries were supported by the former Soviet Union, while US support was directed toward Israel, Lebanon, Jordan, Morocco and Tunisia, with both the US and the Soviet Union competing to support Egypt and Algeria. It is worth remembering that in the bipolar distribution of power in the region, the European Community (EC) was supporting Turkey, Malta and Cyprus.

[183] There is a reluctance to include the Balkans as a Mediterranean sub-regional space, which is instead seen as comprising a separate region in itself. S. Calleya, Navigating Regional Dynamics in the Post-Cold War World: Patterns of Relations in the Mediterranean Area, Dartmouth, Aldershot 1997.

[184] A. Ounais, ‘Security Trends in the Mediterranean: A Perspective from North Africa’, in F. Tanner (ed.), Arms Control, Confidence-Building And Security Cooperation In The Mediterranean, North Africa And The Middle East, MEDAC, Malta, 1994.

[185] P. Balta, ‘La Méditerranée en tant que zone de conflits’, Revista CIDOB d’Afers Internacionals, No 37, 1997. http://www.cidob.es/castellano/Publicaciones/Afers/balta.html (23 march 1999).

[186] C. Spencer, ‘Rethinking or reorienting Europe’s Mediterranean security focus’, in W. Park and G. Wyn Rees (eds.), Rethinking Security in Post-Cold War Europe, Longman, London 1998, p. 139.

[187] I. O. Lesser, ‘Growth and Change in Southern Europe’, in J. W. Holmes (ed.), Maelstrom. The United States Southern Europe and the Challenges in the Mediterranean, World Peace Foundation, Cambridge Massachusetts 1995, pp. 11-30.

[188] N. Waites and S. Stavridis, ‘The EU and Mediterranean Member States’, in S. Stavridis, T. Couloumbis, T. Veremis, N. Waites (eds.), The Foreign Policies of the European Union’s Mediterranean States and Applicant Countries in the 1990s, London, Macmillan, 1999, p. 29.

[189] T. Couloumbis and T. Veremis, ‘Introduction: The Mediterranean in Perspective’, in S. Stavridis, et. al. (eds.), 1999, p. 2.

[190] H. Köchler, ‘ Muslim-Christian Ties in Europe: Past, Present and Future’, Second International Seminar on Civilizational Dialogue: “Japan, Islam and the West”, Kuala Lumpur, 2-3 Sept. 1996.

[191] P. Cuco, The Eastern Mediterranean, Report submitted on behalf of the Defence Committee,  Assembly of Western European Union, Document 1465, 24th May 1995.

[192] H. Essid, ‘Les termes de l’équivoque’, Le Nouvel Observateur, Dossier No 5, La France et les Arabes. Quoted in F. Faria and Á. de Vasconcelos, ‘Security in Northern Africa: Ambiguity and Reality’, Chaillot Papers, No 25, Institute for Security Studies, Western European Union, Paris, 1996, p. 1.

[193] Firstly, he projected himself as the Arab leader who stood up against the West in general, and against the US in particular. Secondly, he elevated his struggle to a holy war against the West and its puppets in the Middle East. Finally, he brought Israel and as a consequence the Palestinian issue into the conflict thus handing Arab nationalism and Islamism a common cause. In doing so, he attempted to appeal to the peoples of other Arab states referring on the one hand to Islam, Islamic unity and orthodoxy, and on the other to pan-Arabism, Arab nationalism and Arab brotherhood. See K. Matthews, The Gulf Conflict and International Relations, Routledge, London 1993, p. 21; and, A Ehteshami and G. Noneman, War and Peace in the Gulf: domestic politics and regional relations into the 1990s, Ithaca Press, Reading 1991, pp. 19-44.

[194] In ‘The End of History?’ Fukuyama sees the end of the Cold War as evidence of the triumph of liberalism over communism; the former reigning triumphant as the only remaining ideological perspective. While he admits that certain internal conflicts exist within liberalism such as the economic conflict among classes engendered by the market economy, he dismisses these conflicts as manageable. F. Fukuyama, The End of History and the Last Man, Macmillan, New York 1992.

[195] For Huntington, much of the future of world politics and a good part of its past can be understood as conflict among differing civilisations and, to a lesser extent, co-operation among peoples within the same civilisation. See S. P. Huntington, ‘The Clash of Civilizations?’, in Foreign Affairs, Vol. 72, No 3, Summer 1993, pp. 22-49; and S. P. Huntington, The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order, Touchstone Books, London 1996; Cf. T. Couloumbis and T. Veremis, ‘In Search of New Barbarians: Samuel P. Huntington and the Clash of Civilizations’, Mediterranean Quarterly, Vol. 5 No 1, Winter 1994, pp. 36-44; and D. A. Welch, ‘The “Clash of Civilizations” Thesis as an Argument and as a Phenomenon’, Security Studies, Vol. 6 No 4, 1997, pp. 197-216.

[196] M. J. Shapiro, Violent Cartographies: Mapping Cultures of War, University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis 1997.

[197] M. Blunden, ‘Insecurity in Europe’s Southern Flank’, Survival, Vol. 36 No 2, Summer 1994, p. 137.

[198] B. Buzan, People, States and Fear: The National Security Problem in International Relations, Whetasheaft Books, Brighton 1983, p. 228.

[199] N. Ayubi, ‘Farms, factories and.... walls: which way for European/Middle Eastern Relations’, in N. Ayubi (ed.), Distant Neighbors: The Political Economy of Relations between Europe and the Middle East/North Africa, Ithaka Press, Reading 1995, p. 7.

[200] T. W. Lippman, Understanding Islam, Penguin Group, New York, 1990, p. 70.

[201] E. Said, Orientalism, Vintage, New York 1979, p. 310.

[202] E. Said, Covering Islam. How the Media and the Experts Determine How We See the Rest of the World, Routledge and Kegan Paul, London 1981, p. 31.

[203] Ibit, p. 31

[204] J. L. Espozito, Islam and Politics, 4th edition, N.Y. Syracuse University Press, Syracuse 1998.

[205] B. A. Roberson, ‘Islam and Europe: An enigma or a Myth?’, in B. A. Roberson (ed.), The Middle East and Europe: The Power Deficit, Routledge, London and New York 1998, p. 120.

[206] I. M. Lapidus, ‘Beyond the Unipolar Moment a Sober Survey of the Islamic World’, Orbis, Vol. 40 No3, Summer 1996, p. 393.

[207] The term modernisation refers to the process in which the structures of the traditional societies are dismantled and replaced by new structures on economic, social, political, and cultural levels. See more analytically in C. E. Black, The Dynamics of Modernization: A Study in Comparative History, Harper and Row Publishers, New York 1966.

[208] G. A. G. Soltan, ‘State Building, Modernization and Political Islam: The Search for Political Community(s) in the Middle East’, Revista CIDOB d’Afers Internacionals, No 37, 1997. http://www.cidob.es/castellano/Publicaciones/Afers/soltan.html (23 March 1999).

[209] Such features include unitarianism, a rule-ethic, individualism, scripturalism, puritanism, an egalitarian aversion to mediation and hierarchy, and a small load of magic. See E. Gellner, ‘Up from Imperialism’, The New Republic, 22 May 1989, pp. 35-36.

[210] P. G. Vatikiotis, Islam and the State (in Greek), Hellenic Foundation for European and Foreign Policy, Athens 1991.

[211] S. P. Huntington, ‘Democracy’s Third Wave’, in L. Diamond and M. F. Plattner (eds.), The Global Resurgence of Democracy, The John Hopkins University Press and the National Endowment for Democracy, Baltimore and London, 1993, p. 19. Cf. S. Humphreys, ‘Islam and Political Values in Saudi Arabia, Egypt and Syria’, Middle East Journal, No 33, Winter 1979, pp. 6-7.

[212] R. Aliboni, ‘Factors Affecting Mediterranean Security’, in Tanner (ed.), op. cit.

[213] S. P. Huntingdon, ‘Democracy’s Third Wave’, in L. Diamond and M. F. Plattner (eds.), The Global Resurgence of Democracy, The John Hopkins University Press and the National Endowment for Democracy, Baltimore and London, 1993, p. 19. For a different view on the compatibility of Islam and democracy see E. Mortimer, ‘The Party of God’, Prospects, No 42, June 1999, pp. 36-40; B. Khader and V. Legrand, ‘Democratization in the Arab-Muslim World’, ELIAMEP Occassional Papers, No OP98.09, Hellenic Foundation for European and Foreign Policy, 1998.

[214] J. Diamond, J. Linz and S. M. Lipset (eds.), Democracy in Developing Countries: Asia, Lynne Rienner, Boulder, 1989, p. xx. Quoted in D. Pool, ‘Staying at home with the wife: democratization and its limits in the Middle East’, in G. Parry and M. Morran (eds.), Democracy and democratization, Routledge, London and New York, 1994, p. 197.

[215] Ibid., p. 198.

[216] D. G. Curdy, ‘Security and Peace in the Middle East: Experiments with Democracy in an Islamic World’, Maxwell Papers, No 4, Air War College, August 1996, p. 4.

[217] Pool, op. cit., p. 215.

[218] I. M. Lapidus, op. cit., p. 404.

[219] Quoted in H. A. Jawad, ‘Islam and the West: How Fundamental is the Threat?’, RUSI Journal, Vol. 140 No 4, August 1995, p. 37.

[220] H. Köchler, ‘Philosophical Foundations of Civilizational Dialogue: The Hermeneutics of Cultural Self-comprehension versus the Paradigm of Civilizational Conflict’, Occasional Papers Series, No 3, International Progress Organization, 1998.

[221] A. Bin, ‘Strengthening cooperation in the Mediterranean: NATO’s contribution’, NATO Review, Vol. 46 No 4, 1998, p. 25.                       

[222] World Bank, Dept Tables 1994, Washington DC, pp. 200-201.

[223] P. R. Ireland, ‘Europe’s Rio Grande? The Mediterranean Basin, Islam and the EU’s Southern Strategy’, paper presented at the Fifth Biennial ECSA-USA Conference, Seattle, Washington, May 1997, p. 6.

[224] M. Grenon and M. Batisse (eds.), Futures for the Mediterranean Basin: The Blue Plan, United Nations Environmental Programme, Oxford University Press, Oxford 1989.

[225] J. C. Renaud, ‘Security and Energy in the Post-Crisis Period’, in NATO Review, No 1, Vol. 39, Feb. 1991, p.22.

[226] G. Joffé, et al., ‘The Mediterranean: Risks and Challenges’, International Spectator, Vol. 28 No 3, 1993, p. 36.

[227] For a detailed analysis of all these factors see M. Benyaklef, ‘Socio-economic Disparities in the Mediterranean’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 2 No 1, Summer 1997, p. 110.

[228] Couloumbis and Veremis, op. cit., 1999, p. 3. For other useful analysis of statistics on the North-South gap see R. Aliboni, et al., ‘Co-operation and Stability in the Mediterranean: An Agenda for Partnership’, International Spectator, Vol. 29 No 3, 1994, pp. 5-20. For more recent statistical data see Eurostat, Euro-Mediterranean Statistics, General Short-Term Statistics, No 2, Luxemburg 1998.

[229] A. de Vasconcelos, ‘The New Europe and the Western Mediterranean’, NATO Review, Vol. 39 No 5, Oct. 1991, pp. 27-31.

[230] For any given per capita income, poverty was lower in the Middle East and North African countries than elsewhere in the world and the distribution of wealth more egalitarian as compared to many countries in East Asia and Latin America. These achievements were the result of rapid growth in the 1970s and early 1980s and the introduction of generous transfers to large sections of the population. At its peak, the effect of the windfall on oil producers was equivalent to a 50 percent increase in their national incomes. The spillovers for the rest of the region (through aid flows, remittances of immigrant workers, and exports) were substantial and equivalent to a 3540 percent increase in GDP for the Middle East and North African countries as a whole.

[231] B. Khader, ‘Europe-Arab Economic Relations: Balance of a Quarter Century 1973-1997’, Revista CIDOB d’Afers Internacionals, No 37, 1997. http://www.cidob.es/castellano/Publicaciones/Afers/khader. html (23 March 1999).

[232] This has been particularly true not only for the major oil-producing countries, but also for minor producers like Egypt, as well as those non oil-producing countries that benefited from the increase of oil wealth through immigration and exports to Europe, and more direct investment flows from the latter.

[233] World Bank Report, ‘Claiming the Future Choosing Prosperity in the Middle East and North Africa’, Oct. 1995. For more comprehensive analysis of the economic challenges facing the region see N. Shafik, Economic Challenges Facing Middle Eastern and North African Countries. Alternative Futures, Economic Research Forum for the Arab Countries, Iran and Turkey/Macmillan Press, Hampshire 1998.

[234] Joffé, op. cit., 1996.

[235] For a detailed analysis of figures and trends in Mediterranean demographics see, R. King and M. Donati, ‘The “Divided” Mediterranean: Re-defining European Relationships’, in R. Hudson and A. M. Williams (eds.), Divided Europe. Society and Territory, SAGE, London 1999, especially pp. 142-147.

[236] S. E. Ibrahim, ‘The Demographic Factors in the Security of the Mediterranean: From The Battle Of Tours To The Battle Of Algiers’, Fondation Mediterraneenne d’Etudes Strategiques, Seminar de la Tour Blanche, Toulon, 21-24 June 1995.

[237] Inter-Parliamentary Union, ‘Employment is Key to Stability in the Mediterranean, CSCM Meeting Concludes’, Press release of the Inter-Parliamentary Union, No 2, Monte Carlo/Geneva, 4 July 1997.

[238] S. Collinson, ‘Migration and Security in the Mediterranean: A Complex Relationship’, paper presented in the Conference on Non military aspects of Security in Southern Europe: Migration, employment and labour market, organised by the Institute of International Economic Relations and Regional Network on Southern European Societies, Santorini 19-21 September 1997.

[239] See S. Spencer (ed.), Immigration as an Economic Asset: The German Experience, IPPR/Trentham Books, Staffordshire, 1994.

[240] Aliboni, op. cit., 1994.

[241] S. Collinson, Shore to Shore. The Politics of Migration in Euro-Maghreb Relations, Royal Institute of International Affairs, London, 1997.

[242] Boutros Boutros-Ghali, ‘The Marginalization of Africa’, Mediterranean Quarterly. http://www.erols.com/mqmq/Ghali.htm (23 March 1999).

[243] N. Fahmy, ‘After Madrid and Barcelona: Prospects for Mediterranean Security’, paper presented in Conference organised by MEDAC, Prospects after Barcelona, MEDAC, Malta, March 1996.

[244] R. Aliboni, ‘European Security Across the Mediterranean’, Chaillot Papers, No 2, Institute for Security Studies, Western European Union, Paris 1991.

[245] Signs of the Cold War became evident in the Mediterranean when Italy, Greece and Turkey became members of NATO. Syria, Libya and the Balkan countries were supported by the Soviet Union, while US support was directed toward Israel, Lebanon, Jordan, Morocco and Tunisia, with both the US and the Soviet Union competing to support Egypt and Algeria. In the bipolar distribution of power in the region, the Europeans were supporting Turkey, Malta and Cyprus.

[246] G. Salame, ‘Torn between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean: Europe and the Middle East in the post-Cold era’, in B. A. Roberson (ed.), op. cit., p. 20.

[247] In the late 1970s and early 1980s, a disunity of regional alignments in the wider Mediterranean region through a series of events including the change of regime in Iran, the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, and the beginning of the Iran-Iraq war deeply influenced the European public opinion. However, none had the impact of the Algerian war for independence in 1962.

[248] Joel Peters, ‘Europe and the Middle East Peace Process: Emerging from the Sidelines’, in Stavridis, et al. (eds.), op. cit., 1999, p. 300.

[249] A process that culminated in the signing of the Single European Act in February 1986 which represented the first formal revision of the original treaties.

[250] H. Köchler, ‘US-European Relations After the End of the East-West Conflict: Implications for Euro-Mediterranean Co-operation’, Occasional Papers Series, No 1, International Progress Organization, 1997.

[251] R. Aliboni, ‘Collective Political Co-operation in the Mediterranean’, in Aliboni, Joffé and Niblock (eds.), op. cit., p. 57.

[252] J. W. Holmes, ‘US Interests and policy Options’, in Holmes (ed.), op. cit., p. 224.

[253] Z. Khalilzad, ‘Challenges in the Greater Middle East’, in D. C. Gompert and S, F. Larrabee (eds.), America and Europe: A Partnership for a New Era, Cambridge University Press 1997.

[254] P. Marr, ‘The United States, Europe and the Middle East: Cooperation, co-optation or confrontation?’, in B. A. Roberson (ed.), op. cit., p. 96.

[255] See more analytically I. O. Lesser, ‘Southern Europe and the Maghreb: US Interests and Policy Perspectives’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 1 No 2, Autumn 1996, pp. 231-242.

[256] E. Laipson, ‘Thinking about the Mediterranean’, Mediterranean Quarterly, Vol. 1, No 1, Winter 1990, pp. 50-65, see especially pp. 63-65.

[257] G. Joffé, ‘Southern Attitudes Towards an Integrated Mediterranean Region’, op. cit., 1997, p. 18.

[258] For more details see Euromed Special Features, ‘The Middle East Peace Process and the Role of the European Union’, Issue No 7, April 23, 1999.

[259] Köchler, op. cit., 1997.

[260] P. H. Gordon, ‘The Transatlantic Allies and the Changing Middle East’, Adelphi Papers, No 322, 1998.

[261] C. Gaspar, ‘Europe and the Middle East: at the crossroads’, NATO Review, Vol. 42 No 5, Oct. 1994, pp. 26-30.

[262] R. Hollis, ‘Europe and the Middle East: power by stealth?’, International Affairs, Vol. 73 No 1, 1997, p. 29.

[263] Holmes, op. cit., 1995, p. 225.

[264] J. C. Snyder, ‘Proliferation Threats to Security in NATO’s Southern Region’, Mediterranean Quarterly, Vol. 4 No 1, Winter 1993, p. 110.

[265] M. Aguirre, ‘NATO needs a new approach to the Mediterranean’, Summit Briefing Paper, No 97.4, Berlin Information Centre for Transatlantic Security, July 1997.

[266] D. C. Gompert and S. F. Larrabee (eds.), America and Europe: A Partnership for a New Era, Cambridge University Press 1997.

[267] R. Gillespie, ‘Northern European Perceptions of the Barcelona Process’, Revista CIDOB d’Afers Internacionals, No 37, 1997. http://www.cidob.es/castellano/Publicaciones/Afers/gillespie.html (23 March 1999).

[268] A. Jűnemann, ‘Europe’s interrelations with North Africa in the new framework of Euro-Mediterranean partnership - A provisional assessment of the Barcelona concept’’, The European Union in a Changing World, Third ECSA-World Conference, 19-20 Sept. 1996, Brussels, Selection of papers published by the European Commission, Luxembourg 1998, p. 378.

[269] A. Kaminski, ‘The Geostrategic Implications of Enlargement’, paper delivered at the Second Meeting of the Working Group on the Eastern Enlargement of the European Union, Robert Schuman Centre, European University Institute, Brussels, October 1997, p. 1.

[270] Among the important parameters that differentiate various actors on the European theatre are the character of objective security risks, the way of assessing the substance of vital national interests, the available means of defusing possible threats, a country’s role and place in the emerging security architecture, its options of alignment and, more generally, its security interaction with other actors. See V. Baranovsky, ‘An Understanding of Europe’s Overlapping Political Realities’ Revista CIDOB d’Afers Internacionals, No 38-39, 1997. http://www.cidob.es/Ingles/Publicaciones/Afers/38-39baranovsky.html (23 March 1999).

[271] This term draws on C. Hill, ‘European Foreign Policy Power bloc, Civilian model - or Flop?’, in R. Rummel (ed.), The Evolution of an International Actor: Western Europe’s New Assertiveness, Boulder: Westview Press, 1990.

[272] H. Miall, ‘Wider Europe, Fortress Europe, Fragmented Europe’, in H. Miall, (ed.), Redefining Europe. New Patterns of Conflict and Co-operation, Royal Institute of International Affairs, Pinter, London, 1994, pp. 1-16.

[273] R. Aliboni, ‘Southern European Security: Perceptions and Problems’, in R. Aliboni (ed.), Southern European Security in the 1990s, Pinter, London 1992, p. 2.

[274] D. Constas, ‘Southern European countries in the European Community’, in Holmes (ed.), op. cit., pp. 127-150.

[275] T. Veremis, ‘International Relations in Southern Europe’, in J. Loughlin (ed.), Southern European Studies Guide, Bauker-Saur, London 1993, pp. 207-210.

[276] For comprehensive analyses of Spain’s increasing role in the Mediterranean see R. Gillespie, Spain and the Mediterranean: Developing a European Policy towards the South, Macmillan, London, 1999; and, ‘Spanish Protagonismo and the Euro-Mediterranean Partnership’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 2 No 1, Summer 1997, pp. 33-48; R. Gillespie, ‘Spain and the Mediterranean: Southern Sensitivity, European Aspirations’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 1 No 2, Autumn 1996, pp. 193-211; and C. Echeverria Jesus, ‘Spain and the Mediterranean’, in Stavridis et. al. (eds.), op. cit., 1999, pp. 98-113. Respectively for Italy see J. W. Holmes, ‘Italy: In the Mediterranean, but of it?’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 1 No 2, Autumn 1996, pp. 176-192; E. Greco and L. Guazzone, ‘Continuity and Change in Italy’s security policy’, in Aliboni (ed.), op. cit., especially pp. 71-83; and, R. Aliboni, ‘Italy and the Mediterranean in the 1990s’, in Stavridis, et. al. (eds.), op. cit., 1999, pp. 73-97.

[277] J. Marks, ‘High Hopes and Low Motives: the New Euro-Mediterranean Partnership Initiative’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 1 No 1, Summer 1996, p. 11.

[278] D. Allen, ‘Conclusions’, in C. Hill (ed.), The Actors in Europe’s Foreign Policy, Routledge, London 1996, p. 301.

[279] R. Pace, ‘Peace, Stability, Security and Prosperity in the Mediterranean Region’, in A. Bin (ed.) Co-operation and Security in the Mediterranean, MEDAC, Malta 1996, p. 110.

[280] These differences stem from the geographical position of the southern EU members and their different historical pasts: while Spain tends to concentrate on north-western Africa, Italy’s main focus is Libya and the Eastern Mediterranean; the attention of France is divided between Algeria and Lebanon; and the main preoccupation of Greece is Cyprus and Turkey.

T. Veremis, ‘European Political Cooperation and the pursuit of security: towards a southern position?’, in Aliboni (ed.), op. cit., p. 33.

[281] F. Tanner, ‘An Emerging Security Agenda for the Mediterranean’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 1 No 3, Winter 1996, p. 293.

[282] A. Jűnemann, ‘Europe’s interrelations with North Africa in the new framework of Euro-Mediterranean partnership - A provisional assessment of the Barcelona concept’’, The European Union in a Changing World, Third ECSA-World Conference, 19-20 Sept. 1996, Brussels, Selection of papers published by the European Commission, Luxembourg 1998, p. 365.

[283] R. Whitman, ‘The EU and the Mediterranean: Looking towards the Millenium’, CMS Occasional Papers, No 18, Center for Mediterranean Studies, University of Bristol, February 1998, p. 10.

[284] R. Gillespie, ‘Northern European Perceptions of the Barcelona Process’, Revista CIDOB d’Afers Internacionals, No 37, 1997. http://www.cidob.es/castellano/Publicaciones/Afers/gillespie.html (23 March 1999).

[285] Mauritania was also excluded for not being considered as a Mediterranean country by the EU. Yet, the constituent session of the Euro-Mediterranean Parliamentary Forum held in Brussels on 27-28 October adopted a final declaration recommending the participation of both Libya and Mauritania in the Barcelona Process. See Arabic News, ‘Euro-Mediterranean parliamentary forum calls for Libyan participation’, Regional, Politics, 10/29/98.

[286] H. Köchler, ‘US-European Relations After the End of the East-West Conflict: Implications for Euro-Mediterranean Co-operation’, Occasional Papers Series, No 1, International Progress Organization, 1997.

[287] Quoted in L. Khan, ‘Barcelona meeting highlights Europe’s role in Middle East future’, op. cit.

[288] Launching the Middle East Peace Process in Madrid and especially the Oslo Accords also made the EMP a viable project. From the beginning, the progress of the Barcelona Process was contingent upon, and conditioned by, the developments of the Middle East Peace Process. Few months after the Barcelona Declaration and the Israeli elections, the prospects for peace in the Middle East looked gloomy. The Barcelona Process was among the many losers of this development.

[289] Quoted in Khan, op. cit.

[290] See J. Peters, Pathways to Peace: The Multilateral Arab-Israeli Peace Talks, RIIA, London 1996.

[291] Marks, op. cit.

[292] Barbé, op. cit, pp. 25-42.

[293] Commission of the European Communities, Barcelona Declaration adopted at the Euro-Mediterranean Conference (Final Version), Barcelona 28-11-1995.

[294] Jűnemann, op. cit., p. 369.

[295] Commission of the European Communities, Barcelona Declaration adopted at the Euro-Mediterranean Conference, Final Version, Barcelona 28-11-1995, p. 2.

[296] F. Tanner, ‘An Emerging Security Agenda for the Mediterranean’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 1 No 3, Winter 1996, especially pp. 282-285.

[297] R. Aliboni, ‘The Euro-Mediterranean Partnership: An Interpretation from Italy’, paper presented in Conference organised by MEDAC, Prospects after Barcelona, Malta, March 1996.

[298] N. Kliot, ‘Politics and Society in the Mediterranean Basin’, in R. King, L. Proudfoot and B. Smith (eds.), The Mediterranean: Environment and Society, Arnold, London 1997, pp. 108-125.

[299] Edwards and Philippart, op. cit., p. 15.

[300] R. Aliboni, ‘Re-Setting the Euro-Mediterranean Security Agenda’, The International Spectator, Vol. XXXIII No 4, Oct.-Dec., 1998. Columbia International Affairs Online, Columbia University Press. https://wwwc.cc.columbia.edu /sec/dlc/ciao/ oljourfrm.html (29 March 1999).

[301] Joffé notes that, ‘this may occur despite the recommendations for ‘good governance’, not because of them, and that it may be economic change that brings it about’. G. Joffé, ‘The Euro-Mediterranean Partnership: Two Years After Barcelona’, Briefing Papers, No 44, Middle East Programme, Royal Institute of International Affairs, London, May 1998.

[302] EuroMeSCo, Working Group on Confidence-Building, Arms Control and Conflict Prevention, EuroMeSCo network, April 1997. In order to establish functions of conflict prevention, it is also argued in the report, the EMP should combine short and long-term action such as systemic as well as structural and diplomatic preventive actions with a highly pragmatic approach in intra-conflict and post-conflict situations. The report argues that this may become acceptable if a strong mechanism of information and communication without intervention is firmly established in the meantime and the scope of information were not subjected to significant limitations.

[303] F. Tanner, ‘An Emerging Security Agenda for the Mediterranean’, op. cit., p. 292.

[304] C. Echeverria Jesus, ‘Euro-Mediterranean Political Relations: Confidence - and Security-Building Measures’, ELIAMEP Occasional Papers, No OP97.07, Hellenic Foundation for European and Foreign Policy, Athens 1997.

[305] There is a certain resemblance between the nature of the commitment for the MEFTA and the completion of the Single European Market. In both cases, the dates agreed were target dates rather than legally binding dates. This permits certain levels of flexibility for the necessary adjustment processes. Interview, DG 1B, European Commission, 5 August 1999, Brussels.

[306] Jűnemann, op. cit., p. 370.

[307] N. Minasi, ‘The Euro-Mediterranean Free Trade Area and its Impact on the Economies Involved’, Jean Monnet Working Papers in Comparative and International Politics, No 16, Special Issue on the Euro-Med, Department of Political Studies, University of Catania, October 1998.

[308] L. Tsoukalis, ‘The EU in search of a Mediterranean policy’, European Expression: A Quarterly Edition on European Issues (in Greek), No 28, January-March 1998, p. 37.

[309] M. Wolf, ‘Cooperation or Conflict? The European Union in a liberal global economy’, International Affairs, Vol. 71 No 3, 1995, p. 333

[310] Euromed Internet Forum, ‘The Euro-Mediterranean Economic Area’, Euromed Special Feature, Issue No 2, November 1998.

[311] An early study by the EU suggested that during the transition EU competition could bankrupt some 2000 companies in Tunisia alone and that even with funding the future of another 2000 would be questionable.

[312] Euromed Internet Forum, ‘The Euro-Mediterranean Economic Area’, Euromed Special Feature, Issue No 2, November 1998.

[313] E. L. Hudgins, ‘Regional and Multilateral Trade Agreements: Complementary Means to Open Markets’, Cato Journal, Vol. 15 No 2-3, Fall/Winter, 1995/96.

[314] EuroMeSCo, Working Group on Confidence-Building, Arms Control and Conflict Prevention, EuroMeSCo network, April 1997.

[315] Minasi, op. cit.

[316] B. Khader, ‘Euro-Mediterranean Partnership (EMP): The Unaccomplished Tasks’, The IPTS Report, Special Euro-Mediterranean Issue No 25, IPTS/European Science and Technology Observatories Network, June 1998.

[317] For more on the MEDA Programme see H. Schneider and H. Zomer, ‘European Union and the Mediterranean (MEDA)’, APRODEV Information Document, August 1997.

[318] Interview with M. Webb, op. cit.

[319] Aliboni, op. cit., 1996.

[320] The term is borrowed from S. Strange, Casino Capitalism, Manchester University Press, London and New York, 1997.

[321] B. Hoekman, ‘The World Trade Organization, the European Union, and the Arab World: Trade Policy Priorities and Pitfalls’, Private Sector Development Division, Europe and Central Asia, and Middle East and North Africa Technical Department, World Bank, Sep. 1995.

[322] Euromed Internet Forum, ‘The Euro-Mediterranean Cultural Partnership’, Euromed Special Feature, Issue No 3, December 1998.

[323] A. Colas, ‘The Limits of Mediterranean Partnership: Civil Society and the Barcelona Conference of 1995’, Mediterranean Quarterly, Vol. 8, No 4, Fall 1997, p. 75.

[324] F. Benaboud, ‘Civil Society in the Euro-Mediterranean Region’, Journal of the Society for International Development, Vol. 41, No 1, 1997.

[325] A. De Vasconcelos, R. Aliboni and A. Monem Said Aly, EuroMeSCo Report 1997/1998.

[326] N. Fahmy, ‘After Madrid and Barcelona: Prospects for Mediterranean Security’, paper presented in Conference organised by MEDAC, Prospects after Barcelona, MEDAC, Malta, March 1996.

[327] To reduce migratory pressures, the partners stressed that it is the southern Mediterranean countries that have overall responsibility for the re-admission of illegal immigrants to Europe.

[328] Waites and Stavridis, op. cit., p. 33.

[329] Edwards and Philippart, op. cit., p. 10.

[330] Aliboni explains that the EU gives its Mediterranean partners nothing more than a limited co-management of its Mediterranean policy. In practice however, what they can do is either ‘corroborate’ or ‘oppose’ EU decisions, as their initiative is limited, because it is strongly conditioned by EU mechanisms for reaching consensus or otherwise making decisions in the framework of its CFSP. Informal EuroMeSCo-Senior Officials Seminar, Euro-Mediterranean Security Dialogue, Bonn, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 20 March 1999, EuroMeSCo News, No. 5, April 1999.

[331] J. Monar, ‘Institutional Constrains of the European Union’s Mediterranean Policy’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 3 No 2, Autumn 1998, pp. 39-60.

[332] The EuroMeSCo network of Euro-Mediterranean foreign policy institutes was established in June 1996 at Sesimbra under the co-ordination of the Lisbon IEEI. It functions as a laboratory for ideas and methods in tackling issues which may be deemed sensitive but are nonetheless essential for the EMP to work.

[333] The creation of a network of defence institutes and the organization of a seminar on the deployment of armed forces for humanitarian work were also issues that were raised, but were suspended to future discussions.

[334] The Charter for Peace and Stability is intended to establish a set of principles and instruments that would enable partners to make and implement common decisions. In other words, it would create an institutional framework with a normative ambition: that partners should aim at adopting a more coherent agenda as opposed to that put forward by the Action Plan.

[335] Informal EuroMeSco-Senior Officials Seminar, Euro-Mediterranean Security Dialogue, Bonn, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 20 March 1999, EuroMeSco News, No. 5, April 1999.

[336] COM(97) 68, ‘Commission communication on the progress of the Euro-Mediterranean partnership and preparations for the second ministerial conference’, 19 February 1997, Bulletin, 11-1995, point 1.4.56.

[337] See A. Jbili and K. Enders, ‘The Association Agreement Between Tunisia and the European Union’, Finance and Development, Vol. 33 No 3, September 1996, pp. 18-23.

[338] J. Licari, ‘The Euro-Mediterranean Partnership: Economic and Financial Aspects’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 3 No 3, Winter 1998, p. 19.

[339] Joffé, op. cit., 1998.

[340] H. Lindholm-Schulz and M. Schulz, ‘The Middle East - exception or embryonic regionalism?’, Politeia, Department of Peace and Development Research, Göteborg University, p. 106.

[341] In so far as they did accord it a role, the EU was to bankroll the bilateral part of the Middle East Peace Process, particularly the essential support required by the new Palestinian economy as it emerged in the Occupied Territories. See further in Joffé, op. cit., 1998.

[342] F. Attinà, ‘Regional Cooperation in Global Perspective. The case of the ‘mediterranean’ regions’, Jean Monnet Working Papers in Comparative and International Politics, No 4, Department of Political Studies, University of Catania, December 1996.

[343] F. Tanner, ‘The Malta Meeting revisited: The Middle East is catching up with the Barcelona Process’, editorial of Director on the 2nd Ministerial Meeting of the Barcelona Process, held in Malta on 15/16 April 1997.

[344] St. C. Calleya, ‘The Euro-Mediterranean Process After Malta: What Prospects?’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 2, No 2, autumn 1997, pp. 1-22.

[345] Joffé, op. cit., 1998.

[346] Tanner, ‘The Malta Meeting revisited’, op. cit.

[347] St. C. Calleya, ‘Providing new dynamism to the Euro-med process’, Euro-Mediterranean Magazine, Volume 3, Issue III, EuroMed Internet Forum.

[348] Maltese Prime Ministers’ Closing Statement, Second Euro-Mediterranean Ministerial Conference, Malta, 16 April 1997.

[349] For example, ‘The Participants take note of the work of Senior Officials on a Charter for peace and stability in the Euro-Mediterranean region, and instruct them to continue the preparatory work, taking due account of the exchanged documents, in order to submit an agreed text at a future Ministerial Meeting when political circumstances allow’. Malta Declaration, May 1997, p. 4.

[350] Joffé, op. cit., 1998.

[351] Ibid.

[352] R. Edis, ‘Does the Barcelona Process Matter?’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 3 No 3, Winter 1998, p. 101.

[353] Experts’ Meeting on the Euro-Mediterranean Economic Area Brussels, 27-28 April 1998.

[354] The importance of an appropriate regime concerning rules of origin was recognised.

[355] EuroMeSCo, Working Group on Confidence-Building, Arms Control and Conflict Prevention, EuroMeSCo network, April 1997.

[356] Since the Barcelona Conference, there have been four meetings on the socio-cultural dimension: two Ministerial Conferences, in Bologna in April 1996 and in Rhodes in September 1998; and two meetings of government experts: the Thessaloníki Conference on audio-visual co-operation in November 1997 and the Stockholm workshop on dialogue between cultures and civilisations in April 1998.

[357] Euromed Internet Forum, ‘The Middle East Peace Process and the Role of the European Union’, Euromed Special Features, No 7, 23 April 1999.

[358] See Informal EuroMeSCo-Senior Officials Seminar, Euro-Mediterranean Security Dialogue, Bonn, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 20 March 1999, EuroMeSCo News, No 5, April 1999.

[359] Chairman’s Formal Conclusions, Third Euro-Mediterranean Conference of Foreign Ministers - Barcelona III, Stuttgart, Germany, 15-16 April 1999.

[360] Euromed Internet Forum, ‘Euro-Mediterranean Conference On Regional Cooperation’ Euro-Med Special Features, No 5, February 5, 1999.

[361] See further on this in D. K. Xenakis and D. N. Chryssochoou, The emerging Euro-Mediterranean system, Manchester and New York, Manchester University Press, 2001.

[362] In the military aspects of ESDP, the Union has committed itself to setting up, a 60.000 force able to be deployed within two months and sustained on the ground for 12 months. The commitment and deployment of national troops will be based on sovereign decisions taken by EU member states. It is clear that this military embryo is not meant to be a standing force and that is why the currently in use term ‘Euro-Army’, is not accurate since it does not reflect faithfully the current state of affairs in the formation of both CFSP and ESDP.

[363] D.N. Chryssochoou, M. J. Tsinisizelis, K.Ifantis and S. Stavrides, Theory and reform in the European Union, 2nd edition, Manchester and New York: Manchester University Press, 2003.

[364] The problems of creating smooth and efficient ESDP-NATO relations are not in the focus of this article. However, these problems include among others, the harmonisation of the national defence policies and strategies; the problem of harmonising different group memberships because some EU members are in NATO and others are out of NATO; the problem of financial resources of the ESDP; the problem of defining the weight of different groups of countries in the decision-making process, etc.

[365] Spain plays a leading role in the the EU Mediterranean policy.  Naturally, the promotion of the Barcelona Process and the Mediterranean Dimension of the ESDP were high priorities for the Spanish Presidency.

[366] D. Ê. Xenakis, ‘The Future of Euro-Mediterranean Defense Co-operation: The Way Ahead’, experts round table paper, international seminar of the Hellenic Presidency, The Mediterranean Dimension of the ESDP and the Hellenic Presidency, Defence Analysis Institute, Ministry of Defence, Rhodes, 2 November 2002.

[367] The main aim was to exchange views on ESDP matters and soft-security measures with the Mediterranean partners in order to further develop the capacity to identify and adopt a common Euro-Mediterranean ground on security and defence issues.

[368] First Year Report of the Euro-Mediterranean Study Commission (EuroMeSCo) Working Group ÉÉÉ, ‘European Defence: Perceptions vs. Realities’, EuroMeSCo Papers, No 16, 2002, especially pp. 11-12.

[369] The Common Strategy for the Mediterranean was adopted by the European Council in Feira and constitutes a means for exercising EU foreign policy in the Mediterranean region, as well as a mechanism for implementation of the CFSP objectives, according to the relevant provisions of the Amsterdam Treaty. 

[370] EuroMeSCo, ‘European Defence: Perceptions vs. Realities’, op.cit., p. 14.

[371] While conceived as a sub-regional 'proximity' circle within the wider Euro-Mediterranean space, the Mediterranean Forum can have a very active and specific role in promoting a multilateral co-operation agenda in the Mediterranean in what concerns particularly security and defence issues. Its membership makes it easier to tackle co-operation on such issues, which would be a harder task, due to current circumstances, at the EMP level to address. Istituto Affari Internazionali, Summary of Deliberations,  workshop on ‘Measures for Conflict Prevention in the MedForum Countries’ Framework’, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Rome 21-22 June 2002.

 

[372] A. Jűnemann, ‘Europe’s interrelations with North Africa in the new framework of Euro-Mediterranean partnership - A provisional assessment of the Barcelona concept’’, The European Union in a Changing World, Third ECSA-World Conference, 19-20 Sept. 1996, Brussels, Selection of papers published by the European Commission, Luxembourg 1998, p. 365.

[373] J. P. Derisbourg, ‘The Euro-Mediterranean Partnership After Barcelona’, paper presented in Conference organised by MEDAC, Prospects after Barcelona, Malta, March 1996.

[374] Jűnemann, op. cit., p. 383.

[375] Ibid, p. 373.

[376] N. Fahmy, ‘After Madrid and Barcelona: Prospects for Mediterranean Security’, paper presented in Conference organised by MEDAC, Prospects after Barcelona, MEDAC, Malta, March 1996.

[377]  R. King and M. Donati, ‘The ‘Divided’ Mediterranean: Re-defining European Relationships’, in R. Hudson and A. M. Williams (ed.), Divided Europe: Society and Territory, Sage, London 1999, p. 156.

[378] Malcolm Rifkind, ‘British Initiative in Investment Barriers’, British Foreign Secretary brief in the Barcelona Conference, 28 November 1995, British Foreign Office 1995.

[379] E. Kienle, ‘Destabilisation through Partnership? Euro-Mediterranean Relations after the Barcelona Declaration’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 3 No 2, Autumn 1998, p. 4.

[380] S. M. Nsouli, A. Bisat, and O. Kanaan, ‘The European Union’s New Mediterranean Strategy’, Finance and Development, Vol. 33, No 3, September 1996, p. 14-17.

[381] For a more detailed analysis of the economic benefits and costs of the EMP see S. M. Nsouli, A. Bisat, and O. Kanaan, ‘The European Union’s New Mediterranean Strategy’, Finance and Development, Vol. 33, No 3, September 1996, p. 14-17.

[382] Commission of the European Communities, ‘Progress Report on the Euro-Mediterranean Partnership and Preparations for the Second Conference of Foreign Affairs Ministers’, Communication From The Commission to the Council and the European Parliament, COM(97) 68 final, Brussels, 19.02.1997.

[383] A. Marquina, ‘Security and Political Stability in the Mediterranean’, Revista CIDOB d’Afers Internacionals, No 37, 1997 http://www.cidob.es/castellano/Publicaciones/Afers/marquina.html, (23 March 1999).

[384] G. Luciani,  ‘Where to Start with Multilaterism - An Agenda for Cooperation between Europe, the Middle East and North Africa’, Working Papers, Research Group on European Affairs, University of Munich August 1996.

[385] R. Aliboni, ‘The Euro-Mediterranean Partnership: An Interpretation from Italy’, paper presented in Conference organised by MEDAC, Prospects after Barcelona, Malta, March 1996.

[386] See Kienle, op. cit., pp. 1-20.

[387] G. Joffé, ‘The Euro-Mediterranean Partnership Today’, Informal EuroMeSCo-Senior Officials Seminar, Euro-Mediterranean Security Dialogue, Bonn, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 20 March 1999, EuroMeSCo News, No. 5, April 1999.

[388] Edwards and Philippart, op. cit., p. 18.

[389] R. Gillespie, ‘The Euro-Mediterranean Partnership’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 2 No 1, Summer 1997, pp. 4-5

[390] Barbé, op. cit., p. 32

[391] R. O. Keohane, ‘Neoliberal Institutionalism: A Perspective on World Politics’, in Keohane (ed.), op. cit., 1989, p. 4.

[392] Hasenclever et al., p. 7.

[393] Jervis, ‘Security Regimes’, in Krasner (ed.), op. cit.

[394] S. D. Krasner, ‘Structural causes and regime consequences: regimes as intervening variables’, in Krasner (ed.), op. cit., p. 5.

[395] Ibid, p. 6.

[396] Ibid, p. 9.

[397] Ibid, p. 10.

[398] Bin, op. cit., 1997.

[399] Concluding Statement of the UK Presidency by the Foreign Secretary Mr Robin Cook, Ad-Hoc Euro-Mediterranean Ministerial Meeting, Palermo, 3-4 June 1998.

[400] Kohli argues that the problem orientation distinguishes comparative politics from other social science fields that tend to be driven primarily by theoretical and/or methodological ends. See A. Kohli, et.al. op.cit, 1996, p. 46.

[401] G.  Edwards and E. Philippart, ‘The EU Mediterranean Policy: Virtue Unrewarded or...?’, Cambridge Review of International Affairs, Vol. 11 No 1, 1997, p. 186.

[402] See A. Collins and M. Burstein, ‘Afterword: A framework for a theory of comparison and mapping’, in Vosniadou and Ortony (eds.), op. cit., 1989, pp. 546-565.

[403] V. Y. Ghebali, ‘Toward a Mediterranean Helsinki-Type Process’, Mediterranean Quarterly, Vol. 4 No 1, 1993, p. 95.

[404] H. D. Lange, ‘The CSCE and Security in Europe’, Helsinki Monitor, No 3, 1992, p. 29.

[405] See C. Lipson, ‘Why are Some International Agreements Informal?’ International Organization, Vol. 45, Autumn 1991, pp. 495-538, and A. Aust, ‘Theory and Practice of Informal International Instruments’, International and Comparative Law Quarterly, Vol. 35, 1986, pp. 787-812.

[406] International ‘treaties’ can be defined as agreements, which establish binding obligations between the parties, and whose terms and provisions are governed by international law, whilst ‘conventions’ are multilateral instruments of a law-making or regulatory type, usually negotiated under the auspices of regional and/or international organisations. See further in D. P. O’Connell, International Law, 2nd edition, Stevens and Sons, London, 1970, pp. 195-295.

[407] Agreements are distinct from treaties and conventions in that the latter are generally of a more comprehensive kind and have permanent subject matter, whilst, agreements normally take the form of a single instrument and tend to be bilateral rather than multilateral.

[408] R. P. Barston, Modern Diplomacy, Longman, London and New York, 1988, p. 212.

[409] Ibid, p. 211.

[410] D. W. Larson, ‘Words and Deeds: The Role of Declarations in US–Soviet Relations’, in M, Krepon, J. S. Drezin and M. Newbill (eds.), Declaratory Diplomacy: Rhetorical Initiatives and Confidence Building, Henry L. Stimson Center, Report No. 27, April 1999.

[411] J. G. Stein, ‘Detection and Defection: Security ‘Regimes’ and the Management of International Conflict’, International Journal, Vol. 40, Autumn, 1985, p. 624.

[412] G. W. Downs, D. M. Rocke, and P. N. Barsoom, ‘Managing the Evolution of Multilateralism’, International Organization, Vol. 52 No 2, Spring 1998, p. 397.

[413] R. O. Keohane, After Hegemony: Cooperation and Discord in the World Political Economy, Princeton University Press, Princeton N. J., 1984, p. 91.

[414] A. D. Rotfield, From Helsinki to Helsinki and Beyond: Analysis and Documents of the Conference for Security and Cooperation in Europe 1973-1993, SIPRI, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1994, p. 32.

[415] See L. M. Ashworth and D. Long, (eds.), New Perspectives on International Functionalism, Macmillan, London, 1999.

[416] D. Mitrany, A Working Peace System: An Argument for the Functional Development of International Organization, RIIA, London 1943, pp. 18-19.

[417] V. Rittberger (ed.), International Regimes in East-West Politics, Pinter, London and New York, 1990, p. 2.

[418] F. Gale, ‘“Cave! Hic dragones”: a neo-Gramscian deconstruction and reconstruction of international regime theory’, Review of International Political Economy, Vol. 5 No 2, Summer, 1998, pp. 252-284.

[419] V. Rittberger and M. Zűrn, ‘Towards regulated anarchy in East-West relations: causes and consequences of East-West regimes’, in Rittberger (ed.), op. cit., pp. 9-63.

[420] M. Levy, O. Young and M. Zűrn, ‘The Study of International Regimes’, European Journal of International Relations, Vol. 1 No 3, 1995, p. 271.

[421] Keohane, op. cit., 1984, pp. 97-98.

[422] C. P. Kindleberger, ‘Dominance and Leadership in the International Economy’, International Studies Quarterly, Vol. 25, 1981, p. 252.

[423] Keohane, op. cit., 1984, p. 244.

[424] See J. T. Checkel, ‘Why Comply? Constructivism, Social Norms and the Study of International Institutions’, ARENA Reprints, No 99/24, 1999.

[425] O. R. Young, Compliance and Public Authority, The John Hopkins University Press, Baltimore and London, 1979, p. 1.

[426] See inter alia A. Chayes and A. Handler Chayes, ‘On compliance’, International Organization, Vol. 47, No 2, Spring 1993, pp. 175-205; R. B. Mitchell, ‘Regime design matters: intentional oil pollution and treaty compliance’, International Organization, Vol. 48, No 3, Summer 1994, pp. 425-458; and O. R. Young, International Cooperation: Building Regimes for Natural Resources and the Environment, Ithaca, Cornell University Press, 1989.

[427] G. D. Downs, D. M. Rocke and P. N. Barsoom, ‘Is the good news about compliance good news about cooperation?’, International Organization, Vol. 50, No 3, Summer 1996, pp. 379-406.

[428] J. Goldstein, ‘Ideas, Institutions, and American Trade Policy’, International Organization, Vol. 42 No 1 Winter 1988, p. 182.

[429] See D. Baldwin, ‘Neoliberalism, Neoliberalism, and World Politics’, in D. Baldwin (ed.), Neorealism and Neoliberalism: The Contemporary Debate, Columbia University Press, New York, 1993.

[430] R. Jervis, ‘Realism, Game Theory, and Cooperation’, World Politics, Vol. 40, April 1988, p. 319.

[431] J. D. Fearon, ‘Bargaining, Enforcement and International Cooperation’, International Organization, Vol. 52 No 2, Spring 1998, pp. 269-305.

[432] E. B. Haas, When Knowledge is Power: Three Models of Change in International Organizations, University of California Press, Berkeley, 1990.

[433] Ruggie J. G., Constructing the World Polity: Essays on International Institutionalization, Routledge Press, New York, 1998.

[434] E. Adler, ‘Seeds of peaceful change: the OSCE’s security community-building model’, Adler and Barnett (eds.), op. cit., 1998, pp. 119-160

[435] R. O. Keohane, International Institutions and State Power: Essays in International Relations Theory, Westview Press, Boulder, Co., 1989, p. 226.

[436] See A. Dawisha, ‘Arab Regimes: Legitimacy and Foreign Policy’, in Dawisha and Zartman (eds.), op. cit., Croom Helm, London, New York and Sidney, 1988, pp. 260-275.

[437] I. Harik, ‘The Origins of the Arab System’, in G. Salamé (ed.), The Foundations of the Arab State (Croom Helm, London, New York and Sidney, 1988, pp. 19-46.

[438] Chayes and Handler Chayes, op. cit., 1993, ff. 201-204;

[439] H. Hasenclever, P. Mayer, and V. Rittberger, Theories of International Regimes, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1997, p. 2.

[440] See B. Barber, ‘Jihad versus McWorld’, The Atlantic Monthly, March 1992, pp. 53-63 (author’s emphasis).

[441] See R. O. Keohane, J. J. Nye and S. Hoffman, (eds.), After the Cold War: International Institutions and State Strategies in Europe, 1989-1991, Harvard University Press, Harvard, 1993.

[442] See J. Vasquez, ‘Peace and the New World Order’, AntePodium, No 4, Victoria University of Wellington, 1995.

[443] Current theoretical and policy debate over multilateralism addresses conceptual and methodological issues; for example, when, under what circumstances, and in what domains is multilateralism a desirable and feasible form of conduct and co-operation? What difference does multilateral action make in terms of possible outcomes of co-operation? Are there strategic, institutional, ethical, normative or other criteria by which multilateral action can be judged useful and feasible? A possibility for multilateral management of regional and international problems transcends traditional intellectual, disciplinary, and area studies divides. The world economy, human rights, the environment, population, security concerns, non-proliferation, cultural affairs all constitute possible issues for further investigation. See further in R. O. Cox (ed.), The New Realism: Perspectives on Multilateralism and World Order, MacMillan/UN University Press, Tokyo, 1997.

[444] R. Axelrod, The Evolution of Cooperation, Basic, New York, 1984, p. 4.

[445] C. W. Kegley Jr., ‘The Neoidealist Moment in International Studies? Realist Myths and the New International Studies’, International Studies Quarterly, Vol. 37, June 1993, p. 141.

[446] R. O. Keohane, ‘Institutional Theory and the Realist Challenge after the Cold War’, in D. Baldwin (ed.), Neorealism and Neoliberalism: The Contemporary Debate, Columbia University Press, N.Y., 1993, especially pp. 269-300.

[447] Adler, op. cit., 1998, p. 149.

[448] J. Vasquez, ‘The Deterrence Myth: Nuclear Weapons and the Prevention of Nuclear War’ in C. Kegley Jr. (ed.), The Long Postwar Peace, New York, 1991, pp. 205-223.

[449] W. Höynck, ‘From Adversaries to Partners: CSCE Experience in Building Confidence’, Speech at the Tel Aviv University, Jaffe Center for Strategic Studies, Tel Aviv, 5 March 1995.

[450] M. Nimitz, ‘Mediterranean Security After the Cold War’, Mediterranean Quarterly, http://users.erols.com/mqmq/nimetz.htm.

[451] D. Fenech, ‘The Relevance of European Security Structures to the Mediterranean (and vice versa), Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 2 No 1, Summer 1997, p. 169ff.

[452] See J. P. Olsen, ‘European Challenges to the Nation State’, in B. Steunenberg and F. V. Vught, (eds.), Political Institutions and Public Policy, Kluwer, Dordrecht, 1997, pp. 159-160.

[453] However, as March and Olsen have argued, history is path dependent in the sense that the character of current institutions depends not only on current conditions but also on the historical path of institutional development. J. G. March J. P. Olsen, ‘The Institutional Dynamics of International Political Orders’, ARENA Reprints, No 98/5, 1998.

[454] Adler, op. cit., 1998, p. 149.

[455] Interview with Michael Webb, DGIB, European Commission, 5 July 1999.

[456] A. Ounais, ‘Security Trends in the Mediterranean: A Perspective from North Africa’, in Fred Tanner (ed.), Arms Control, Confidence-Building and Security Cooperation in the Mediterranean, North Africa and the Middle East, MEDAC, Malta 1994.

[457] I. Gyarmati, ‘On Current Issues of the OSCE’, in P. Tálas and S. Gorka (eds.), After the Budapest OSCE Summit, SVKI, Budapest, 1995, p. 54.

[458] C. Spencer, ‘Building Confidence in the Mediterranean’, Mediterranean Politics, Vol. 2 No 1, Autumn 1997, p. 39.

[459] R. Aliboni, ‘European Union Security Perceptions and Policies Towards the Mediterranean, in Blank (ed.), op. cit., 1999, p. 137.

[460] S. C. Calleya, ‘Providing new dynamism to the Euro-med process’, Euro-Mediterranean Magazine, Volume 3, Issue III, EuroMed Internet Forum 1998.

[461] EuroMeSCo, Working Group on Confidence-Building, Arms Control and Conflict Prevention, EuroMeSCo, April 1997.

[462] R. O. Keohane, ‘International Institutions: Can Interdependence Work?’, Foreign Policy, Spring 1998.

[463] R. O. Keohane and L. L. Martin, ‘The Promise of Institutionalist Theory’, International Security, Vol. 20 No 1, 1995, p. 50.

[464] J. J. Mearsheimer, ‘The false promise of international institutions’, International Security, Vol. 19 No 3, 1994, p. 7.



* The author wishes to thank Dr. Geoffrey Edwards (Univ. of Cambridge), Dr. Mick Dumper (Univ. of Exeter), Professor Fulvio Attinà (Univ. of Catania), Prof. Justin Greenwood (Robert Gordon Univ.), Prof. Richard Gillespie (Univ. of Liverpool), Prof. Emil Kirchner (Univ. of Essex), Prof. Michael Tsinisizelis (Univ. of Athens), Prof. Theodore Couloumbis (Univ. of Athens), Prof. Thanos Veremis (Univ. of Athens), Prof. Constatntine Stephanou, (Panteion Univ.), Dr. Dimitris Chryssochoou (DAI), Dr. Charalambos Chardanidis (IIER), Dr. Kostas Ifantis (Univ. of Athens), Ambassadors Dionysios Lelos and Sotirios Varouxakis (both at Greek MFA) and two anonymous referees, as well as, audiences in Athens, Barcelona, Cambridge, Catania, Corfu, Exeter, Halki, Kent, London, Rethymno, Rhodes and Spetses for constructive comments on earlier drafts. The usual proviso on responsibility applies here too.