Finding Common Ground Between Universal Human Rights and Local Cultural Identity
The most remarkable political change of the past three decades has been the growing involvement of the civil society sector in the political process. There are three broad strains in the civil society. First, there are all of the organizations and activities that promote religion, education, and the arts; provide social services; care for neighborhoods and communities; and foster recreation, sports, and play. For the most part, these activities fall inside national boundaries and are not generally overtly political. Second, there are the “rights” organizations, whose objectives are much more politically oriented and whose activity is, more often than not, directed beyond national boundaries and toward more universal concerns. Third, there are the many organizations that represent the interests of local cultures and ethnic subgroups, whose purpose is to maintain their traditions, rituals, and values and represent their groups’ interests, both domestically and internationally, to ensure their survival and growth.
The civil rights movement, the environmental movement, the women’s rights movement, the human rights movement, the poor people’s campaigns, the peace movement, the disability rights movement, the gay rights movement, the animal rights movement, the consumer rights movement, and the anti-eugenics movement have remade the political landscape. These civil society movements transcend the territorial boundaries of nation-states. Their vision is universal. Their goals are global. They seek a transformation in human consciousness itself—a new awareness of the rights of every individual being and the indivisibility of the Earth’s living community. The European Union has become the place where these movements are beginning to make their voices heard, inside as well as outside the corridors of political power.
It’s worth pointing out that the new politically active rights-oriented transnational CSOs were not the first to break the hold of nation-state prerogatives in the international arena. An earlier genre of technical- and professional-based international nongovernmental organizations seeded the path for the new players. The International Bureau of Weights and Standards, the International Union for the Protection of Literary and Artistic Works, the International Bureau of Commercial Statistics, the International Labor Office, the International Institute of Agriculture, and the International Association of Seismology were among the thousands of nongovernmental organizations that proliferated from the turn of the century to the 1960s.
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Like their rights-oriented successors that began to take root in the late 1960s, in the aftermath of the student rights movement, these older INGOs were based on individual participation, voluntary association, and democratic practices. Their goal was to establish universal standards governing a particular field, endeavor, or activity. They sought to influence political and commercial behavior by having their standards accepted and adopted by relevant institutions in both arenas. They represented a third force with a nonbinding agenda whose influence was based largely on professional or technical expertise and rational norms of behavior.
The new rights-oriented transnational movements also seek to establish universal codes of conduct, not of a technical or professional nature but rather governing human behavior itself. Their legitimacy is not grounded on professional expertise but flows from a deeply felt sense of human conscience. They appeal to human empathy rather than rational calculation. Their sights are set on intrinsic values, not on utilitarian concerns. Their goal is less materialistic and more idealistic. Their efforts are designed to advance not merely economic growth but quality of life. For them, personal transformation, not just material advance, becomes an equal measure of progress.
While the rights-oriented CSOs often focus their attention beyond national borders, the ethnic-oriented CSOs’ attention is generally focused below national borders, in particular regions. At some times, the ethnic CSOs’ agendas are complementary to the EU’s, and at other times, they are at odds. Despite the fact that the EU’s motto is “unity in diversity,” the subcultures across Europe are often insular and xenophobic and frightened about the effect of Europeanization and globalization on their own communities. If universal human rights-oriented CSOs are more cosmopolitan and worldly in their orientation, local subcultures can often be defensive and reactionary and more directed toward building walls rather than eliminating boundaries.
The difficulty with the many subcultures that dot the European landscape is that their history is deeply embedded in territory. In a globalized world of fast-disappearing boundaries and increased mobility, territory-bound subcultures often feel under siege. Their fear and rage are frequently directed at immigrants and asylum seekers who they see as a threat to their ability to maintain their cultural identity. The feeling of being “invaded” often leads to hatred of foreigners and ultra-right political movements.
Still, local subcultures, especially those that exist as minorities within a larger culture that claims to represent the national identity, have found reason to create common cause with the EU. The Scottish and the Catalonians, for example, view the EU as a liberating force of sorts. Being part of a larger transnational political body has given them greater maneuverability within their own nations. Now, local subcultures, attached to specific geographic regions, can often bypass nation-state constraints and establish political, commercial, and social ties at the EU level, affording them a greater degree of independence and autonomy than they have known under nation-state rule.
EU architects began to sense a potential ally among cultural groupings and opened up direct political channels with local subcultures as a way to soften the influence of nation-state players. Antonio Ruberti, the former commissioner for Science, Research, Technological Development and Education at the European Union summed up much of the mixed feelings in Brussels about the status of local cultures. “Although it is a handicap in some respects,” notes Ruberti, “for the most part European diversity represents a ‘trump card.’ ”
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The rights groups and ethnic groups often overlap and share common agendas. For example, global human rights organizations support the Tibetan people’s struggle to maintain their identity and autonomy against Chinese political encroachment and repression that threaten their very existence. But rights groups and ethnic groups are just as often at odds with one another. That’s because the former ultimately represents the global interests of free individuals while the latter’s concern is with the more traditional interests of communities. For example, some cultural groups in Africa still practice female genital mutilation and consider it a rite of passage to adulthood. Women’s groups in the first and third world have sought an end to the procedure, claiming that it violates women’s basic human right to control their own bodies. They charge that the practice is a way for men to hold women in bondage.
What makes the European Dream so interesting and problematic is that it seeks to incorporate both universal human rights and more parochial cultural rights under the same political tent. This is quite different from the nation-state agenda, whose aim was limited to the protection of individual property rights and civil liberties and the assimilation and integration of sub-groups into a single national identity. Accommodating multi-culturalism and human rights at the same time is no easy task. Remember, cultural communities are rooted in family, extended kin ties, and/or shared religious experiences and are generally anchored in physical settings. The various human rights movements, by contrast, are universal, not particular. Their emphasis is on the individual, not the group. Their setting is the biosphere, not territory.
The real question at hand for Europe is whether or not its people can stretch their affiliations and aspirations from the particular to the universal and from the local to the global. Is it possible to coexist and even flourish in a world of so many divided loyalties? Can one be a Catalonian and at the same time a Spaniard, a European, and a global citizen? To the extent that local cultures feel threatened by larger national, transnational, and global forces, they are likely to view their cultures as “possessions to defend” and sink deeper into the old “mine vs. thine” mentality. On the other hand, to the extent that they see Europeanization and globalization as a way to liberate themselves from the older nation-state yoke and to gain greater independence, maneuverability, and access to the outside world, they may come to view their culture more as “gifts to share,” bringing them into a less adversarial and more cooperative relationship with others. Certainly, the idea of a “networked Europe” fits more comfortably with the latter scenario.
Which course is likely to prevail? Right now both the xenophobic and pluralistic cultural schools are at play. The question of future outcomes depends largely on whether ethnic-based interests and rights-based interests can find common ground with one another and with the European Union over an extended geographic field, stretching from the local to the transnational arena. If the European Union can facilitate the coming together of these varied interests in Europe-wide governing networks, the stage will be set for a new kind of politics more suited for the challenges of a globalizing world. The success of the European Dream depends, in no small measure, on the ability to make cultural identity, universal human rights, and European governance a seamless rather than a contradictory relationship.
The new partnership between the EU and civil society organizations is going to prove difficult to manage. We need to bear in mind that CSOs are often at odds with government over official policies. Governments, in turn, often perceive CSOs as threats to their authority and seek to undermine their credibility and discredit their legitimacy.
It’s not surprising, then, that the EU has not always greeted the participation of the third sector with open arms. It has been the combination of relentless public pressure and mobilization of popular support behind their agendas that has forced government recognition and secured them a place in the formal public policy debate.
Former United Nations secretary-general Boutros Boutros-Ghali characterizes civil society organizations and movements as “a basic form of popular representation in the present-day world.” He says that “their participation in international relations is, in a way, a guarantee of the political legitimacy of those international organizations.”
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Boutros-Ghali’s opinion, while widely shared, is still controversial in many quarters. Although the UN General Assembly allows for greater formal input by CSOs at international gatherings, the UN Security Council bars civil society participation, as does the WTO. Some global organizations, such as the World Bank and the IMF, give lip service to CSO representation but generally limit participation to an advisory role, often several steps removed from official proceedings. Nation-states and provincial and local governments are also ambivalent about how much formal participation by CSOs ought to be sanctioned. Most governments would probably prefer to limit CSO involvement to a monitoring and feedback function and to mobilizing support behind government initiatives, with formal partnerships limited to just the delivery of services. The CSOs, understandably, would like to be at the decision-making table, with an equal voice and vote in policy decisions. The tensions between the two sectors often flare up and spill out onto the streets. Civil society protests at global political forums and at the EU, as well as at national- and regional-level conferences and meetings, have increased dramatically in recent years.
Much of the ambivalence on the part of government actors and the rising sense of frustration and anger by the activists have to do with conflicting political agendas. Transnational civil society movements use their clout to gain increasing recognition of the universal rights of individuals—as well as nature—under international laws and seek to hold governments accountable to said laws. Their ultimate aim is to create a new planetary political sphere connecting individuals and nature directly to global covenants and conventions. Civil society organizations that represent local subcultures eat away at national sovereignty from the other end. They are constantly in search of new ways to secure greater regional and local autonomy and a more independent voice in decisions that affect their communities. Nation-states sense that the goals of rights-oriented and subculture-oriented civil society organizations, at times, threaten their own sovereignty and hegemony and attempt to either absorb or ignore activist efforts to gain a foothold into the political process.
The European Union, on the other hand, has shown itself to be somewhat more open on the matter of integrating the civil society into its political sphere, although even in Brussels, there are pockets of resistance to the idea of advancing greater CSO participation. The reason the EU is willing to share at least some governing power with civil society organizations is that they bring with them the kind of local, grassroots credibility that Brussels so desperately needs to effectively maintain its legitimacy in a world torn between local, national, regional, and global forces.
A recent study conducted by Edelman PR, one of the world’s leading public relations firms, found that among public opinion leaders, especially in Europe, civil society organizations are more favorably regarded and enjoy higher levels of trust than either the commercial or government sectors. While 41 percent of European opinion leaders were favorably disposed toward CSOs in Europe, only 28 percent regarded businesses favorably, and a mere 17 percent were favorable to government.
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Opinion leaders in the U.S., however, were more favorably disposed to business and government, with 40 percent favorable to commerce and 46 percent favorable to political institutions. Only 34 percent were favorable to CSOs.
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