THE DECEMBER sunshine is blinding as I cross the border from Germany into France a week before the winter solstice. Snow is falling in the Alsace as I exit the motorway for the centre of Strasbourg. Passing through a valley of snow-clad conifers, the approach to Strasbourg is Christmas-card perfect. The satnav informs me – in German – that I have reached the centre of Strasbourg, “Strasbourg Zentrum”.
The French however call it “Capitale de Noël”, the Capital of Christmas.
In a somewhat cheeky move, Strasbourg’s Christmas markets have usurped those of neighbouring Germany in terms of size and popularity. Indeed, in addition to the crowds of international tourists in Strasbourg at Christmas, tens of thousands of Germans cross the Rhine into France at this time of year to drink the French version of German mulled wine or Glühwein.
The cobbled streets are treacherous with ice as visitors throng the brightly lit stalls. Strasbourg’s gothic Notre Dame cathedral towers over the markets. Adolf Hitler was photographed at its entrance in 1940. Hitler, like a latter-day Herod, proclaimed the citizens of Strasbourg to be German and required them to register for citizenship of the Reich.
Like Herod, Hitler would also engage in systematic murder and infanticide as instruments of terror and intimidation.
Today, Strasbourg is the seat of the European Parliament. It is deliberately located in the heart of this contested region as a symbol of reconciliation between France and Germany. On a broader, philosophical level, the European Union is perhaps the greatest peace process in recorded history.
I am in Strasbourg to attend the awards ceremony of the Sakharov Prize – the EU’s version of the Nobel Peace Prize for dissidents. It seeks to recognise those who struggle for freedom of speech, thought and expression. This year’s recipient is the black Cuban dissident, Guillermo Fariñas.
Fariñas cannot attend the awards ceremony as Castro’s regime will not grant him a Carta Blanca or a Cuban “travel pass”. In a message to the European Parliament, Fariñas likens this travel document to a Carta de libertad – the pass which had to be carried by blacks in public areas during the era of slavery. As a dissident, his demands are simple – freedom of assembly in Cuba and freedom of speech. Fariñas decries the execution and murder of opponents of the Castrists in Cuba.
Earlier this year, he mounted a 135-day hunger strike against the communist regime in Cuba. He urges exclusively peaceful resistance to Castro’s regime and in his statement in absentia to the European Parliament he observes, “In this struggle, I have learned to be guided by the words of the first known dissident, Jesus Christ: Love thine enemies”.
Fariña’s chair is empty at the awards ceremony in Strasbourg. Just as Nobel Prize winner Liu Xiaobo’s chair was empty in Oslo the week before.
Despite Fariña’s absence, Jerzy Buzek, the Polish President of the European Parliament is upbeat. He tells The Irish Times, “Twenty-seven years ago, the communists would not allow Lech Walesa to attend the Nobel Prize ceremonies in Oslo. Now, almost everything has changed in Poland. So, I believe in the possibility of change. The EU must communicate its values clearly through awards such as the Sakharov prize. By doing so, there is the possibility that such change may take place, perhaps more rapidly, in Cuba and elsewhere.”
The awards ceremony and the statements issued by the EU on human rights issues in Russia, China, Iran and elsewhere place Ireland’s current economic woes in context. The EU Parliament implores Iran to abandon the death penalty and to desist in the stoning to death of young women and girls. The EU also deplores state executions in Belarus – the last country in Europe to maintain the death penalty on its statute books.
As the EU Parliament concludes its final session before the Christmas break, there is much discussion of the Irish bailout plans. There is a great deal of sympathy for Ireland also. I speak to several German MEPs, journalists and delegation members. Their unanimous and universal response is to the effect that the Irish are “charakteristischerweise gut gelaunt, pragmatische und fleissig” (characteristically good-humoured, pragmatic and hardworking). They express optimism about the prospects for an Irish recovery.
A number of Italian journalists – when not engaged in animated phone calls – speak positively of the prospect of spring elections in Ireland and Italy. One female journalist expresses the view that Italy needs to rid itself of Silvio Berlusconi whom she describes as an “embarassment as a prime minister”. She asks me rather unexpectedly if we still have the “drinking” prime minister in Ireland. I avoid the question and thank the Germans for their expressions of optimism.
Buoyed up by the seasonal goodwill, I begin the return trip to Frankfurt airport. On entering Germany, the temperature drops to minus 3 degrees with heavy snowfall. The autobahn becomes a skating rink and by the time I reach Frankfurt, the road markings are invisible. There are no snow ploughs. Later, as the airport grinds to a halt, the Germans ask each other, “What is wrong with this country? A little snow and the whole place closes down”.
With all flights cancelled I make my way to Darmstadt to the only available hotel. The German taxi driver, muttering about the drifting snow observes bitterly, “I’ll bet that this wouldn’t happen in Ireland”. I find myself, for the second time in 24 hours avoiding the question.