Archive for the 'Uncategorized' Category
Enlargement is one of the few EU policies on which every European has an opinion. It is also one of the few policies characterised by a consistent approach, if not always by a clear goal. Having followed closely the Fifth Enlargement, nEUrosis offers a Cosmopolitan-style guide to aspiring EU members - take notes, follow the steps and you might get in.
* Don’t cosy up with Washington
If you want to join our gang, you shouldn’t be too good chums with the Americans. This is particularly true since the brawls on Iraq, but is an old maxim - don’t forget that Charles de Gaulle vetoed Britain’s application for membership in the European Communities twice - in 1963 and in 1967, on grounds of geopolitics and too close ties with the US. If you want in, and if you are not Britain - go for the French fries, not the Freedom fries.
* Ignore what Commission experts think
Several candidates have wasted useful resources by wining and dining the Commission experts that come to assess their progress, hoping to secure a positive report. This is an exercise in futility, since the very mechanism for writing the progress reports is political, and not technical in character. The impressions of the experts are only used within the Commission; they are grouped, regrouped, altered and digested at several administrative levels, until they reach the College of Commissioners, who also add their impressions - and by the time the report sees the light of day, it is very different from the original experts’ contributions. According to the Commission’s political line, the final report underlines some criticisms, softens others, and veils yet others in vague wording. For example, a 2003 report stated that Romania ”can be considered a functioning market economy if the good progress to date continues decisively”. No Commission economist working on the field in a candidate country would come up with something like that. So, spare the fancy dinners and the bibulous 20-year-old translators. Warning: do not miss an occasion to wine and dine Commissioners themselves.
* Ignore what the Commission thinks in general
Anyone in the Commission from the lowest intern all the way to the President would deny that - but progress reports are not all that important to member states, who take the final decision on who goes in and who stays out of the club. Sounds too extreme to be true? Here is an example - in 1976 the Commission recommended to postpone accession talks with Greece and wrote a number of reports to this end. Nevertheless, negotiations started the same year and finished soon after. Somehow, at the time there were more important considerations that Brussels - for example the Cold War and the extremely eurosceptic socialist government of Costas Karamanlis, who was very well received in Moscow. See? At the end of the day, it does not really matter what Brussels says. Warning - cosying up with Moscow won’t help your membership prospects if you are Ukraine or Belarus.
* Make friends with the Brits, but make best friends with the Germans
Britain is one of the staunchest supporters of enlargement, with the not-so-cunning plan to weaken the continental push for closer integration. So, whoever you are, you have a friend there, but make sure you don’t have a legacy of illegal workers squatting in London’s parks and dining on Her Majesty’s swans.
Germany’s position is exactly the opposite, and hence you should really go on a charm offensive with it. Berlin has demanded stricter criteria for the countries of the Fifth Enlargement and has made life difficult for most new members during negotiations. But the good thing is, Germany is known to have favourites, and this is your chance - do as Poland did, and become Berlin’s sweetheart, and you are in. Warning - this does not work if you are Turkey.
* Tell the French that you love them
Jacques Rupnik has said it long before us - “France needs to be told that it is loved”. There is an endless supply of pleasant initiatives here - become members in the Francophony; exhibit affinity to French culture, art, food, women - it is not difficult. Warning - does not help if you are a socialist, but also if you don’t believe in the French social model; also if you are Turkey, do not speak French, prefer Italian wine, or believe Materazzi was right.
Two recent events in Italy merit our attention. The first is the commemoration on the 15th anniversary of the murder of judges Giovanni Falcone and Paolo Borsellino, committed in the fight against the Italian mafia. The second, in a totally different setting, is the annual conference “crescere tra le righe” (growing between the lines), that tackled the issue of communication in modern society. Despite the geographical distance and the dissimilar intents, these two occasions show something about young Italians, what they want to communicate to policy makers, and how they want to do it.
The Capaci bloodshed owns its name to the trait of highway in Sicily where Giovanni Falcone was murdered with a bomb, together with his wife and three policemen escorting them, on 23 May 1992. Two months later, his friend and colleague Paolo Borsellino was killed in front of his house by means of a car-bomb parked nearby. On the anniversary of these shameful events in Italy’s recent history, the Falcone Foundation decided to organise a boat trip to Palermo. The “legality boat”, as it was called, brought together 15,000 youngsters from all over Italy, who set in the Sicilian capital dancing, listening to music, and debating with representatives of national and regional authorities that attended the event.
The debate wasn’t thrilling. As one might expect, all public figures called for the respect of legality and praised the memory of the two judges. Much more striking was the fact that, 15 years after the murders, young Italians were still moved by the case and by the wave of a historical memory. This is a particularly remarkable outcome when recalling the complex, radicalising, century-long relationship between
Italian society and the mafia
A recent article of Foreign Policy, which analyses the status of several mafia groups in the world, assesses the future of the Italian mafia as “a fight for survival”, especially since the arrest of Bernardo Provenzano, “il capo di tutti i capi”, and 24 other Godfathers. This was possible because of the commitment of the police, of course, but also because society, finally, is withdrawing its support and protection for members of mafia families. The celebrations in Palermo showed that the new generations are not willing to tolerate and support illegality as much as the previous ones.
The event also showed young people’s increasing interest in local problems and their wish to be involved and express their opinion. This was highlighted at the conference “growing between the lines”, organised by the Watchdog of Young Editorialists in La Bagnaia, Tuscany. At the event, attended by members of all relevant public authorities, Walter Veltroni, Rome’s mayor, pointed out that we live in a
very fast society, with a very slow press
The media do not understand societal trends or do not want to understand them. Blogging and the concept of new media is youngsters’ reply to the vacuity of content in the everyday news. The net is the place where news, comment and opinions can be exchanged at high speed, and where the most active participation is reserved for the young- who jump at the occasion. This clearly shows they are concerned in local issues.
At the conference in Tuscany the political elite was represented by Gianfranco Fini, Former Vice-Prime Minister, and Franco Frattini, Vice-President of the European Commission. Hardly discovering the wheel, the former stated the necessity to get closer to the young generations. Questioned about the rather too-mature age of his political coalition leader, Fini struck back with the name of Giorgia Meloni, the 30-year-old President of the Chamber of Deputies. Frattini, unsurprisingly, stressed on the
need for the young to talk more about the EU
to follow its policies and to be more engaged in the debate about its future. From environmental to immigration issues, he said, “not having it [the EU] would come at a high cost, while having it is strategically crucial”.
All in all, the two events described here underline a fresh and dynamic trend of communication in a society that is changing slowly but surely. This is the case in Italy, but the situation is similar in the rest of the EU. The young generations are not apathetic, bored and disinterested - on the contrary, they seem keen to follow and participate in political debates; they have a historical memory to refer to when dealing with present day’s issues, and they fight against the lack of information and channels for representation by using new technologies on the internet.
Policy makers should adapt quickly
It has never been easier for them to know what the young voters think and want - their opinions are only a click away. But while national politicians may be quick to jump on the new wave, the European ones may take longer to start surfing on it. The European Union is still missing in young people’s hearts and minds despite its increasing relevance in their lives. This might be a good occasion for the ‘regular’ media to provide the right platform for future political debates, and for politicians to be more accountable, and to engage the future more in the making of the present.
Jasmila Zbanic, a young Bosnian film director, ‘dragged’ me to the cinema on Saturday evening in Budapest to see her new movie Grbavica. To be more accurate, I do have a soft spot for Balkan movies so I couldn’t miss this opportunity. Moreover, it is always a great feeling to be the only person in the cinema who can understand both the Bosnian speech and the Hungarian subtitles.
The movie is about the difficulties of a Bosnian woman and her daugher a decade after the end of the war that tore Yugoslavia apart. I would recommend it to all of you who think that the Dayton Accord closed the whole issue: the scars are still there and it will take generations before the psychical wounds are healed.
People forget so easily - occupied with their work, family, holidays, a football team that never wins, it is easy to ignore the hardship of others whom they don’t even know. Once it is off the media, it is as if it has never happened. It is good to have young, creative minds like Jasmila, who are not letting Bosnia fade to irrelevance. Moreover, the movie won the golden bear at Berlinale. Everybody heading to the nearest cinema, eh?
Lilia
Last night was a beautiful evening, too beautiful to go to sleep without a walk around the block. I sat by a fountain in the city centre, watching the crowds of young people drinking, playing guitars, smoking. (Most young Russians can’t afford to go to a bar, so they sit out on the public squares.) The girl sitting next to me introduced herself and offered me a cigarette. She had short hair, a nirvana t-shirt and black basketball boots.
Lilia is 19 (nearly 20, she told me proudly). She was born in a town 5 hours away, but came to work in Moscow a year ago. She works in the McDonalds behind us. “This was the first McDonalds in all Russia!” she tells me proudly. (Someone else told me that the first McDonalds in Russia was the one at Ohotniy Ryad, not Pushkinskaya, but I didn’t contradict her). I asked her whether she liked her job. “The money is good, 3 dollars an hour.” Moscow is one of the most expensive cities in the world. Yet 3 dollars an hour is considered a good wage.
When I told her I was British, Lilia was delighted. “Thank God you’re not American. You know, the Americans didn’t help us in the war at all. They left us to fight the Nazis on our own. Did you know that? Only you helped, the British.” We got talking about the Victory Day parades last week. The pain of the Second World War is still very real here, even among young people.
Lilia tells me that she’s a lesbian. Pushkinskaya, where we are sitting, is a popular lesbian hangout at weekends apparently. “The 21st century is the century of freedom!” she announces. “Men. Women. Whatever.” Just then, an ex-girlfriend calls and they starts having a row on her mobile. I wander home, calculating that a bottle of beer from the kiosk (40 rubles) costs her half an hour’s work.
Blondie
I saw Blondie’s husband before I saw her. We were in a classic Moscow expat hangout, watching the FA Cup Final on Saturday afternoon. The room was packed with sweaty diplomats who had slipped away from their wives for a few hours of male bonding, sexy waitresses and cold beers. Next to me stood a short, 50-something man in the early stages of hair loss. He was sporting a pair or Armani jeans pulled up over his gut. Tucked into his expensive leather belt was a puke-coloured Ralph Lauren polo shirt. In another life he would have been a dentist. It occurred to me as I watched the footie that Wayne Rooney’s mother probably had more sex appeal than this man.
During half time, a pretty blonde girl wobbled over on a pair of impossibly high stillettos. She wrapped herself round the man, gazing lovingly at his multiple chins while he gazed lovingly at Chelsea. I was shocked. I’d heard about expats and rich Russians having ‘trophy wives,’ but I’d never seen one in person. This girl looked late-twenties. She was beautifully dressed with real Prada bag, Gucci shoes and a perfect manicure. The rock on her finger would have taken a serious chunk out of Titanic. When she turned to the side, I could see that she’d had her lips done too.
Could she really love this man? If she didn’t, she certainly gave a credible performance. She stroked his back, whispered sweet nothings into his ear, even pretended to care whether Chelsea won. The cynic in me saw Blondie as little more than a very-high-class prostitute with a wedding ring. On the other hand, it’s difficult to make a living in Moscow. Blondie was definitely making more than 3 bucks an hour.
..especially with refreshing drinks!
I know I had promised to get a grip on myself and go back to talk about politics, but the Brussels’ working life is so appealing that I can’t help blabbing a bit more about it. So, after the post on the multi-faceted psyche of the intern-type, I would like to address the mono-mandatory goals of the lobbyists – also called “the bitches of the industry”.
That’s right, it is crucial not to confuse lobbies with the other organisations floating in the muddy waters of Brussels. As a dictionary puts it, the lobbyists are those who “conduct activities aimed at influencing public officials and especially members of a legislative body on legislation”. Usually, they are paid by the private sector to carry on these tasks. Thus one might find lobbies working to promote the interests of the industry of fruit juices, or various types of energy, or textiles, or metals. But never do their goals stem from a norm, such as the protection of Human Rights, or improving the quality of research in a specific field. Lobbies can be non-profit organisations, but they shouldn’t be confounded with NGOs and think-tanks.
Even in Brussels, many do not totally understand this distinction. However, it wouldn’t be possible to describe the life of a lobbyist without grasping the difference of working with the precise aim of protecting interests, with the aim of promoting values. The former gives you a legitimate representational power, which comes from the money the industry pays you to do your job. The latter, might be a laudable aim, but it is usually based on public funding or personal donations.
The conclusion of this briefing is that the lobbyist has to work to please the industry, whatever the sector is. This makes the job pretty much alike for all those who are involved in the game. Lots of stress, lots of talking, lots of meetings…and lots of drinking!!
In Brussels, the targets are obviously the EU institutions. Therefore you will always see lobbyists wondering around the Committees in the Parliament, struggling to get to talk with some Commission officials, and inviting representative of member states to VIP cocktails. You should watch out when you are in a pub or at a restaurant in the European area, as a lobbyist may be lurching in the bushes around the corner.
I would say the life of a lobbyist is divided in three threads: the preparation, the battle, and the party. The preparation starts in the office, where experts of a sector have to analyse the legal situation and come up with position papers to “improve” current legislation. It is not an easy task, particularly at the EU level. The members of these associations are hundreds, and they all want to gain from the work they pay for. Often, in different countries there are different issues with some aspects of the legislation in place, or with the harmonisation of national laws with European law. The members are those who pay the salary, and the lobby do not want to lose them. So, it has to find a common interest, through a long and time consuming process of coordination, meetings, and to a certain extend diplomacy, with its own members. This common interest will define clear aims, and will provide the weapons for the battle.
The second part of the lobbyist’s life is the most stressful. They run back and forth the three main institutions striving for some attention. They have to make their voice heard in an ocean of voices, they have to find the right timing to address the policy makers in an ordeal of fully booked agendas, and they have to carry along a big deal of positive attitudes. Most importantly, they need networking skills, both mentally and physically.
The third aspect of a lobbyist’s life, constantly overlapping with the others two, involves lunches, dinners, parties, cocktails, receptions and the like. Probably, the very moment the defences of their targets are low is exactly after working time, which makes the lobbyist a night bird. But this is not the end of it. When organising meetings and social events for its own members, the lobby does not go about with low-class stuff. The best places, the best food and the best treatment. What’s better than a refreshing drink, in a fancy place, with nice company, to feed the industry?
Altogether, it’s a lot of fun, if you can handle it!
It all went wrong on Friday evening: the party at Holdudvar got out of control so the only way to survive the weekend was to go to the countryside and avoid friends who could get you out for another round of utter madness. Ildiko, our favourite waitress at Caledonia told us that on Saturday they would dress up as ABBA and follow the Eurovision together in the pub. Thus, one more reason to get out of town as soon as possible.
What you try to avoid something really hard is usually imposed on you one way or another, so there I am in front of the telly, sipping quietly some white wine and bang – it’s the Eurovision. An event which should be banned for the sole reason of taking ABBA out of obscurity, if being utterly rubbish itself was not enough. I got stuck and I watched it and I felt there was something shockingly similar between this boring and tedious show and the state of affairs in modern Europe.
First, it was obvious that the English are not taking the whole contest seriously, there is no other way to explain why they were represented by a cheesy anachronism of the 80’s at its worst. Second, the French came up with top quality stuff but the Euro-audience was too stupid to understand that. Third, the whole show lacked creativity – we saw the Moldavian Evanescence, Armenia’s Tom Jones, Greece’s and Turkey’s own Ricky Martin’s (funnily enough, both songs were about ‘shaking it up’ or something), and if Germany and Sweden took it one step further they could have been accused of plagiarism. This is the Europe we know – the English are ignoring it, we can’t hide the anti-French sentiments, and there is not enough true originality of thought and innovation (although I need to admit that the cucumber-related EU regulations are bringing in something fresh). On top of that, the attempt to inspire an all-European emotion, as if something really great was happening, was absolutely pathetic. Solidarity was present only on a regional level when people systematically voted for their neighbours or allies.
Thankfully, underneath the artificial and rotten surface of Eurovision, European music culture might be really fascinating and valuable. Sunday night I went to Beshodrom’s gig in Budapest – top-quality stuff, interpretation of roma musical traditions that blew my head off. Applying the above analogy, it might turn out that if we disregard the junk they are trying to sell us as true-European, we have lots of things we can be happy about.
Of course, a few words about what was good at the Eurovision: Bulgaria, Serbia, Romania and Macedonia’s contribution was not bad at all - doing something cool and modern based on your own tradition is fine. Hungary’s pet, Magdi Ruzsa insisted on wearing jeans and a simple t-shirt, explaining that she wants to be evaluated solely based on her voice.
This weekend I attended a debate on new media and the existence of a European public space, organised by the Allianz Kulturstiftung and the Madariaga Foundation. The debate was even hotter than the room itself, and went between one extreme, there is no European public space and the other, the European public space has the future.
The panelists, representatives of new media www.cafebabel.com, www.indigomag.eu, www.eurozine.com, and an EC communications expert started by giving a definition of a European public space or sphere. One called it a public defined by a common historic memory, the second said it consists of a public which has a certain Erasmus lifestyle of traveling and speaking multiple languages in common. The communications expert, the sceptic of the company, said there was no such thing as a public space or if it did exist it was tiny.
The new media representatives had to admit that their readerships were still limited, but claimed this was due to change over time. And, they argued, they did already reach a small European elite and, quoting Margaret Thatcher, if it rains on the rich it trickles down to the poor. The communications expert countered by mentioning a feasibility study for a European TV channel which showed that only between 0.1 and 0.5% of European TV consumers were interested in such a channel. That is as much as an average national shopping channel has as an audience. Someone from the public added to the criticism by pointing to the suscpiciously high level of europhilia in the new media. Those who are enthusiastically and often without compensation putting in time and effort to adress a European audience are bound to have positive feelings about such a European public space.
But in my humble opinion, the advantage of the new media is that it is no longer limited to one way communication. No matter how euro-enthusiastic my contributions to cafebabel or the nEUrosis might be, you can leave your (sceptic) reactions and start a debate. In the new media, articles are no longer the end but the beginning of a debate. So go ahead and show the communications expert wrong. Participate in and help create the European public space. Leave a message, after the beep.
Beep.
Since assuming the EU presidency four months ago, Germany has made it clear that one of its major goals is to revive the EU Constitution (more precisely, the constitutional treaty) blocked at the French and DutchCould the non turn into a nein? referenda in 2005. Those pro-EU Constitution who nurtured hopes for the wording of the Berlin Declaration concerning the necessity to revive the deadlocked constitutional process were fairly disappointed by the careful text shaped by the German Presidency: in order to accommodate the skeptical EU members, the Germans decided not to mention at all the word Constitution in the Berlin Declaration. Rather, they expanded on the necessity to put the EU foundations on a new solid institutional basis, leaving up to everyone’s own interpretation the understanding of this basis. Still the Presidency is working backstage to keep the Constitutional debate on table so that the June summit will conclude with the successful re-launch of the Constitution.
Despite adopting a rather non-transparent way of conducting negotiations on the treaty, Germany’s initiative deserves some praise. The EU in its current format of twenty seven Member States needs to reshape its institutional framework. Moreover, if it really wants to become increasingly vocal on the international stage, the EU needs to mend the divergences between its Member States and talk externally with a single voice.
What other country apart from Germany could have assumed the role to put the Constitution back on track? As the largest EU Member State, with the world’s third biggest economy, Germany has all the credentials to be the most appropriate Member State to seek the re-launch of the Constitutional debate. This would be the general conclusion one might reach when analyzing the current situation within the EU.
However, there is an aspect that the German Presidency had been careful not to mention: the EU Constitution has not yet been ratified by Germany! Although the German Parliament has largely approved the text, the German president has not signed the document, and without this the ratification process is not complete. Following a request made by a German MP to check to what extent the EU Constitution reduces the provisions of the German Constitution, the Karlsruhe-based Constitutional Court stated that it will not provide an answer on this issue until a final decision on the fate of the Constitution is adopted at the EU level. Therefore, despite portraying itself as the staunchest supporter of the EU Constitution, Germany itself did not finish the ratification process. And the finalisation of ratification may be more than just a formality - recent public opinion polls in Germany revealed that if the Constitutional Treaty would be subject to a referendum, the vote would be negative. Thanks to the Germany’s own constitutional provisions, Berlin officials do not need to worry about a negative referendum on the EU Constitution, but still, the dilemma remains: how does Germany feel in the current awkward situation of strongly advocating for a EU Constitution, but whose ratification process did not end yet?
May has always been a very special month to me: the trees are blooming, everything is green and it brings the denouement of one more football season (except in Scotland, where the championship is practically over by February-March). It is a watershed – we look behind 8-9 months of excitement and thrill, and we look forward to the utterly dull time until the new season starts. Some people struggle through this tedious football-less time by watching women’s under-17 world cup or intertoto cup. Or if you are Hungarian, you would probably delude yourself and believe that waterpolo and decathlon are perfect substitutes of football. Some would use the enormous amount of free time to go to art galleries or some wee island in the sun, hiding the fact that life does not make sense without football. However, others like myself increase drastically alcohol consumption to put some content in those long and boring months.
This season has contributed a l ot to the continuous process of developing my personality. Last year August – Levski Sofia had just got into the Champions League for the first time in history. If you support the Real Madrids and Juventuses, you wouldn’t understand how it feels when the climax of the season comes a bit too early. Nevertheless, I shed a tear as our boys in blue came out on the pitch at Nou Camp under the soothing Champions League anthem, then watching utterly average players like young Zhivko Milanov taking on Ronaldinho. Moments like this make you realise that football is a lot more than a simple matter of life and death. Yes, we lost all 6 games against Chelski, Werder and Barcelona, but who cares? We were there, we saw it, we kind of liked it, and we scored one goal which made me a lot happier than beating CSKA, our fiercest rival. Or more accurately, our used-to-be-fiercest rival – the big derby of Bulgarian football has gradually slipped into total irrelevance. It has ceased to be a challenge, nobody cares anymore about the millions of reasons why CSKA lost once again. I have heard that so many times now – the ref’s myopia, the pitch, the sun, the situation in Chechnya, the axial tilt – everything boils down to CSKA being robbed and that they are the moral champions. Routine is boring, and I realised this year that beating CSKA is simply not fun anymore. It is hard to absorb a massive paradigm shift like this and I am still struggling to make sense of the whole situation.
Levski will most likely win the championship title this year but the real thing is sneaking into the Champs League once again. The odds are against us but who cares? At this point I don’t see a reason why not to beat Milan or Liverpool, let alone mediocre and completely uninspiring teams like Bayern Munich and Real Madrid. And if we don’t, we go back to our old state of affairs – it is a rainy Sunday evening, let’s all 2,000 fellow football fans on the stadium try to enjoy the completely pointless game against Rodopa Smolyan where we are up 4:0 at half-time and then the guys can’t be bothered to run for the rest of the game. This is the inbred pointlessness of being too good at home but not good enough to establish yourself on a higher level.
Teenagers from pro-Putin youth movements have been protesting outside the Estonian Embassy in Moscow since 1 May, forcing its closure. What I saw there was a well-rehearsed theatrical piece, performed mostly for the benefit of the cameras. Leaving the rally, I wondered at how easily this an anti-fascist protest had become a nationalistic demonstration.
I had expected a large crowd of Russians, angered by the Estonian government’s decision to remove the statue of the soviet Bronze Soldier in Tallinn. As we approached the Embassy, the sidestreets were deserted. Next to the exit gates, someone had sprayed a picture of the Estonian Ambassador dressed as an SS guard (right). In fact, there were only around 100 people in front of the Embassy, the vast majority teenagers. We seemed to be the only ‘passers-by’ who felt moved to go and take a look.
The boys were in matching combat gear. They told me that they were given the kit - but didn’t want to be photographed with it on. The girls were mostly sporting apple-green bandanas and t-shirts with the Russian slogan “Locals.” They explained that their youth movement was essentially about ecology, campaigning for ‘cleanliness in all things, including politics.’ Many of them also carried the flags and banners of the “Young Guard,” the youth wing of President Putin’s United Russia party. The atmosphere was what you would expect from a group of teenagers camped out on a city-centre street: happy excitement, lots of hormones and plentiful fags and beer.
At 10.30, a handful of journalists and camera-men arrived. The group sprung into action. Instructions were passed around by the older protesters who communicated with wireless earpieces and walkie-talkies. Flags were raised and patriotic songs boomed out of the high-tech sound equipment. Then the show began. A guy on stilts in a white sheet (the ghost of fascism, the narrator informed us) did battle with some rather impressive flame-throwers (that was World War 2 apparently). The ghost performed a dramatic death, but was then resurrected (in Estonia). He was finally killed by shouts of “Rossiya!” from the crowd.
I was impressed by the level of organisation and discipline of the whole event. At one point, an over-enthusiastic 13-year old started a slow hand clap. He was immediately silenced by a hand gesture from one of the older boys. There were neat rows of matching tents and even a string of portaloos. The flags and banners were professionally made - no teenage scrawl on their mother’s best tablecloth. My favourite - there was even an inflatable Russian tank.
The kids were friendly and happy to chat. It was only when I left and reflected on the event that I realised that the ‘Strong Russia’ slogans, military-style clothing and anti-NATO chants weren’t too pretty. I was confused by my own ambivalence - if I saw one of those kids coming down a dark alley, I’d turn and run a mile. But in person they were friendly, normal teenagers with a serious crush on Russia.
