On Cross Cultural Unions, Conflicts and Compromises
This week, the Greek government and the European Union met again to try to resolve their differences and find a way to move forward without destroying themselves. After days and nights of negotiation, an agreement was reached. No one seems too happy with the outcome and there are surely more troubles ahead.
I feel for both sides. After more than twenty years as a Californian Jewish Greek poet married to an English barrister trained in analytical philosophy, I understand how difficult it can be to negotiate between parties who hold different assumptions about the way the world works. Over the years, my marriage has given me a lot of insight into cross-cultural unions and conflict resolution I wish I could share with Merkel, Tsipras, and the other EU leaders.
As with Greece and the European Union, my husband and I fell in love with each other because of mutual regard and certain shared values. Although we had grown up on two different continents and two different cultures, we had a lot in common. We were both people of the book; we liked hiking and nature; we cried together over Jimmy Stewart movies.
Later, we discovered all the ways an English man and a Mediterranean woman were not alike. My family of origin are close to a fault. We are constantly in each other’s business and disclose our dramas readily and in public. My husband’s family are more typically English. Deep feelings linger like icebergs under the small visible surface of polite exchanges, and it is not uncommon to go for weeks without any contact. My husband is careful with money; I am more “relaxed”. I worry my emotions down their nub. My husband would never be so self-regarding.
Like marriage, the European Union began as a pragmatic institution based on the sharing of property, but has evolved over the years into something much more idealistic, even visionary. Whatever certain members of the US Supreme Court might claim, marriage is not just a union between a man and woman for the purpose of procreation (duh). It is our greatest leap into hope over the chasm of our fears, a struggle between our nature’s best and worst angels. It offers each of us a chance to overcome our own histories in order to create a flourishing future. Perhaps for the EU it is the same.
While Germany was the epicentre of the most murderous ideologies of 20th century Europe, in the post-war era, it has driven the European project hardest. This has been not only for its own economic benefit (mixed a bit with fear of its own history), but also out of a genuinely positive vision of what an integrated continent might offer. The union has been based not only on trade, but an ideal of kinship and shared values. Greece has a special place in this particular marriage. Byron might have fought and died for the Hellenic ideal, but German Schliemann dreamt of Troy and discovered the mask of Agamemnon.
Before the crisis, everyone was in love with each other. The money flowed, and it was easy to ignore differences. Now, as with many unions, finances have become a source of conflict. Each side has retreated into their worst views of the other. Northern voters fear Greek profligacy, corruption, lack of boundaries. Greeks remember the many interventions and invasions from the north, from an imposed Dutch/German Royal Family to the horrors of the Second World War.
Everyone feels like a victim. The northerners feel duped by the Greeks; the Greeks feel bullied by the north. While I am still trying to puzzle out the rights and wrongs of the agreement, the bail-out and the “Troika” versus democracy, I have some inkling of the difficulties of the process. I feel like I have been at that table many times in the last twenty-five years, negotiating differences across a northern/Mediterranean divide.
At these moments, I know how tempting it is to focus on the wrongs of the other instead of your own contribution to the hot water you are steeping in. For years, my husband and I had stereotypical conflicts over family and money. It was easier to suspect I had married a cheapskate than to accept I am impractical about money, to accuse my husband of being repressed and distant than admit I have trouble with boundaries and am easily overwhelmed by other people’s needs. But it is in our fights that we have gained our greatest insights into ourselves, our own history and our values.
The conflict with Greece has exposed some fundamental contradictions in the European project. Is it really just an economic entity or a true political and social union? Is its premise a collection of equals or a colonialist coup? And the confrontation with the creditors has forced Greece to look at itself, its cronyism and resistance to rules. It has brought debates and discussion to the surface on all sides that have long been overdue.
As long as nobody walks away, conflict can be healthy, enriching even. My husband and I have realized that just as we are capable of making each other miserable, we also offer each other our best hope of happiness. We stick with the hard work of debating our differences and finding compromises because through it we have built a rich ecosystem of children, friends and work. At the moment of conflict, compromise feels like death, but without our compromises, neither of us would have been able to grow into happier, stronger and more emotionally competent adults.
That is why I was so worried when I saw the European leaders go into their meeting on Sunday night, and so hopeful when I found out on Monday morning an agreement had been reached, however difficult. The fact that they sat through the night and did not give up shows how valuable the union is to all of them. Neither party has called for the divorce papers — yet, even if some of their constituents would have welcomed it. While they are still sitting at the table together, talking, there is a chance to find the way to a flourishing future.
Please recommend and / or share this essay with friends. Find my personal essays at my Medium profile page.
