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Dall'ora zero, il 1945, la storia che ha portato l'Europa dalle ceneri della guerra alla sua forma attuale.
Il capolavoro di uno dei maestri del nostro tempo.
«Un libro eccellente. È veramente difficile immaginare come si possa scrivere una storia migliore e più leggibile dell'emergere dell'Europa contemporanea dal dramma del 1945.» Ian Kershaw
«Un fantastico lavoro di sintesi, analisi e riflessione.» Timothy Garton Ash
Nel 1945 l'Europa è in ginocchio. La guerra ha lasciato ovunque macerie morali e materiali. Milioni di persone vagano per il continente alla ricerca di un luogo sicuro, della salvezza o di un vagheggiato ritorno a casa. Su questo panorama sta per calare una cortina di ferro che la dividerà in blocchi ideologici contrapposti. Oggi, a quasi trent'anni dalla caduta del muro, le 'due Europe' sono soltanto un ricordo.
In un continuo confronto tra Est e Ovest, Tony Judt, una delle figure intellettuali più incisive del nostro tempo, riscrive la storia del dopoguerra a partire da un'interpretazione inedita: quell'anno fatale non è stato l'inizio di una nuova epoca, piuttosto l'avvio di una fase di transizione durata per oltre mezzo secolo. Da una parte seguiamo gli eventi che dalla rivolta ungherese del 1956 portano alla primavera di Praga, al crollo dell'URSS e al divampare dell'odio etnico nell'ex Iugoslavia. Dall'altra il Piano Marshall, le dittature fasciste di Franco e Salazar, la decolonizzazione e l'immigrazione, il '68, il pontificato di Karol Wojtyla. In questo mosaico stanno fianco a fianco con pari dignità gli effetti del boom economico, il movimento femminista, il cinema italiano, i Beatles e le mode giovanili.
Il risultato è un affresco epico e attento ai dettagli, capace di restituire il carico di speranze e di fiducia nel futuro che ha rimesso in marcia il nostro continente.
1088 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 6, 2005
History is a discipline peculiarly impervious to high theoretical speculation: the more Theory intrudes, the farther History recedes.
The levers of the Union’s economic machinery depend for their efficiency upon the consent of all constituent parts. Where everyone more or less concurs on the principle and benefits of a given policy - on open internal borders, or unrestricted markets for goods and services - the EU has made remarkable progress. Where there is real dissent from a handful of members (or even just one, particularly if it is a major contributor), policy stalls: tax harmonisation, like the reduction in agricultural supports, has been on the agenda for decades.
If a clearly articulated ‘European project’, describing the goals and institutions of the Union as they later evolved, had ever been put to the separate voters of the states of Western Europe it would surely have been rejected.
The advantage of the European project in the decades following World War Two had thus lain precisely in its imprecision. Like ‘growth’ or ‘peace’ - with both of which it was closely associated in the minds of its proponents - ‘Europe’ was too benign to attract effective opposition. [...]
For all its faults as a system of indirect government, the Union has certain interesting and original attributes. Decisions and laws may be passed at a transgovernmental level, but they are implemented by and through national authorities. Everything has to be undertaken by agreement, since there are no instruments of coercion: no EU tax collectors, no EU policemen. The European Union thus represents an unusual compromise: international governance undertaken by national governments.
It says something about the mood of the time that a New Labour government with an overwhelming parliamentary majority and nearly 11 million voters in the 2001 election should nonetheless have been moved to respond in this was to the propaganda of a neo-Fascist clique [the BNP] which attracted the support of just 48,000 electors in the country at large.
In its place there emerged a country incapable of relating to its immediate past except through the unintentional irony of denial, or else as a sort of disinfected, disembodied ‘heritage’. [...] Thus the real, existing British railways were an acknowledged national scandal; but by the year 2000 Great Britain had more steam railways and steam-railway museums than all the rest of Europe combined: one hundred and twenty of them, ninety-one in England alone. Most of the trains don’t go anywhere, and even those that do manage to interweave reality and fantasy with a certain marvellous insouciance [...]
In contemporary England, then, history and fiction blend seamlessly. Industry, poverty, and class conflict have been officially forgotten and paved over. Deep social contrasts are denied or homogenised. And even the most recent and contested past is available only in nostalgic plastic reproduction. [...] The English capacity to plant and tend a Garden of Forgetting, fondly invoking the past while strenuously denying it, is unique.