Professor Luisa Passerini is a historian, but at the beginning of our interview, she informed me straight away that some of her colleagues take issue with her methods — she likes to reconstruct history by using transcriptions of first-hand oral accounts. It is a sensitive matter because oral sources are usually considered too subjective. But the professor defends this technique:
“Well, I took them at their word. I tried to use people’s narratives to put together a history of subjectivity — of the attitudes, passions and thoughts of those I was interviewing. What I did, along with other colleagues of my generation, was to introduce this methodology into universities. In recent years, after retiring from the European University Institute and the University of Turin, I expanded my approach further, moving on to visual sources — two kinds in particular. I have conducted and directed a five-year research project on migrants for the European Research Council in Brussels, during which we asked them to tell their stories and illustrate them with drawings. Then, we compared those drawings with works by various male and female artists. So my work has shifted direction — I am now focusing a great deal on art and the role of art from a cognitive standpoint.”
Professor, you’ve had a chance to look at Manuel Cicchetti’s Continental Notebooks project. I think a sentence stands out among the photos: ‘I left looking for differences, and I ended up joining the dots.’ Manuel is telling us how his journey revealed that Europe — or at least part of it — already exists beyond news of finance, economics and geopolitics. It is an intriguing realisation, and makes us want to try to understand how much of a European social and cultural construct is actually there. We don’t share a common language or a reference media outlet, and in the meantime, people who are not European arrive and nonetheless partake in the cultural life of this continent. On that note, I’d like to ask you about the research you did with migrants.
“That project was called BABE – Bodies across borders: Oral and visual memory in Europe and beyond. It was our intention to speak with migrants arriving from all over the world, and around a hundred participants were involved. It’s not that many, but our interviews were quite long because we focused on quality rather than quantity — we can’t work on very large numbers. We asked those men and women whether Europe meant something to them, and I must say, some of the answers were surprising. One thing that emerged is that the journey to Italy was often seen as a journey to Europe — we are partially aware of this because the fact that Italy is seen as a point of entry into Europe is often covered in the media. Our project produced many images, and we used photographs taken by the migrants to set up an exhibition in Florence, which was later brought to the Gallery of Modern Art in Turin and is now held in the Historical Archives of the European Union in Florence, at the European University Institute. It is used primarily for educational purposes, such as training young teachers and their students.”
What perception of Europe did those arriving have?
“They saw Europe as a multifaceted entity — a highly fragmented and diverse continent. That’s why Italy was sometimes seen as a gateway to Germany, France, and above all, England. This idea of fragmentation partly corresponds to reality — think, for example, of obtaining citizenship. In Italy, even at the time of our research, it took many years before one could apply (it’s ten today), whereas in other countries, three years of residency and a steady job are sufficient.
The citizenship question is a very important one, because we have to consider — and this ties in with some of your previous observations — that for these people, becoming European meant acquiring a national citizenship rather than a European one, which doesn’t really exist. They knew this perfectly well — all migrants know it. And they also know that obtaining Italian citizenship grants them rights all over Europe. This is an interesting discrepancy. One of our goals was to use these people’s stories and our interactions with them to highlight a critique of Eurocentrism. I think one of the toughest challenges to face — which perhaps you too have encountered — is the fact that today, it is impossible to call yourself European without also being critical of Europe’s cultural imperialism in the past, when the continent was seen as the sole and exclusive custodian of the world’s cultural heritage — a thesis that clearly doesn’t hold up today. All of these considerations also emerged through their drawings. Europe was presented as varied, in a way that created a sort of emotional geography — countries where the participants had been or came from were often much larger on the map than less familiar ones. In one example, Italy and Moldova were almost identical in size and shape — both elongated, despite Italy being shaped like a boot. So it was clear that we were not just working with reality, but also with the participants’ perception and imagination. This reminds me of an earlier project I worked on, which was about the myth of Europa. According to the legend, Europa was a Phoenician princess. Jupiter approached her in the form of a white bull, abducted her and took her to Crete. The entire lineage of Europeans would then descend from her, creating a legendary version of Europe’s Middle Eastern origins — origins that, however, are historically grounded, as Herodotus and Thucydides already acknowledged a long time ago. Going back to the people we interviewed, the places and itineraries they were familiar with took on particular significance. For example, when speaking of Africa and Italy — a recurring theme — they often drew only the Mediterranean Sea. The Mediterranean carries political implications because it’s linked to multiple identities. We always thought about Jacques Derrida’s point of view — he was like a guiding light for us. At the end of his short but precious booklet on Europe, he wrote, “Je suis européen entre autres,” meaning, “I am European, among other things.” So we can be many things — Arab, Jewish, white, black, Christian, and also European. I feel like many of the people we met consciously tapped into this, expanding their identity without losing their heritage. I remember one particular case, however, that is worth mentioning. A young South African man absolutely refused to learn to read and write, and therefore to obtain citizenship. “No,” he said, “Absolutely not. I don’t want to speak with you.” When I explained that the funding came from the European Union, from Brussels, from the Council, he replied, “First you colonise us, and then you interview us.” A truly unique case, but in general, the participants were willing to talk and even shared very painful stories about the immigration process, such as crossing the Sahara Desert.” It’s been a few years since the project was completed, and while Europe commissions such projects and seems interested in your methodology, do you think Europe exists in the consciousness of the average citizen? In Italy, at least, the population tends to be rather ill-informed these days.
“The people are more aware now than ten or twenty years ago. I remember when the euro was introduced — I was teaching at the European University and living in Fiesole, one of the municipalities where the euro was first introduced.
There was a sense of enthusiasm among people, and everyone was very happy. Later on, even distinguished scholars who are critical of Europe had something positive to say about the currency. Perry Anderson called the euro the only successful part of the European Union — a controversial statement for sure, because those of us who are pro-Europe think it is of great social and cultural importance. Regarding this aspect, I think Italy, according to surveys, used to be largely pro-Europe. Over time, however, that enthusiasm faded, and today there is a great deal of scepticism. From my rather particular point of view, considering the work I’ve done with schools — especially schools for adults — I have noticed people’s interest in a genuine cultural exchange with immigrants diminish. However, I must give credit to the enthusiasm and skill with which teachers do their job in adult education schools. It is very important work — and perhaps we could learn from it and build from there.”
And then there are some of the comments made by politicians, which are quite alarming, claiming that sexual assaults and harassment are directly caused by excessive illegal immigration.
“The very concept of illegal immigration was strongly called into question by our research, because the people we spoke with were aware of being ‘illegals’ — though we use that term loosely. However, this awareness coexists with the fact that many of them already have relatives in Europe. They have friends and other connections, so the term doesn’t define them entirely. Also, I think having contact with people arriving from outside actually helps us think of ourselves as part of Europe. Despite the issue of not having a shared language, which is a communication barrier, exploring other cultures is an enriching factor — plus English already functions as a lingua franca anyway. We mostly carried out the project in Italian. The participants were attending schools, and their Italian wasn’t perfect because they were still learning the language, but they made an effort. In fact, if we tried to switch to help them out, they would often say, ‘No, no, I want to speak Italian.’ So we tried to preserve the imperfections in our transcriptions. In a few cases, participants spoke only Arabic — because they had just started learning Italian — so we had to hire an interpreter. Language barriers are certainly very significant, but they can be overcome. I noticed that younger participants learned the language a lot more quickly, but even older people showed great interest. The fact that we asked them to draw rather than write often clashed with the interviewees’ desire to write. We gave them large sheets of paper on which, alongside the drawings — which often had a naive quality — they always wrote something in various languages, as if asserting a claim to writing as well. As if to say, ‘we don’t only know how to speak, we also know how to write.’”
You mentioned the lack of a shared language. That reminds me that Europe doesn’t really have any shared newscasts and newspapers either. As a journalist, the only European publication I can think of is Politico.eu, which was founded as a European digital publication. Other than that, all we have are a number of national media outlets, each with its own sphere of influence — France focuses on its former colonies, Italy is influenced by the USA, Spain looks at Latin America, and so on. But let’s get back to your experience. You have lived through several versions of Europe, seeing it change over the years, right? I would like to get your opinion on that. How did the progression feel? Did the old, smaller Europe feel more European to you, or does what we have today feel more European? I get the impression that we talk a lot about money and finance, but very little about other important matters, especially with the younger generation.
“It’s a bit of a paradox, actually. In my personal experience, Europe was first and foremost about political and cultural connections. Let me explain: in the 1950s, 60s and early 70s, France was for some of us a very important place because of the kind of political and cultural movements that happened there, with minority groups sparking thoughts of everyday revolution — socialism and internationalism — that resonated with the broader spirit of 1968. At that time, we did not consider ourselves pro-European — in fact, the very idea of Europe was seen as bourgeois. We eventually became pro-European after the wave of 1968 and the early 1970s. I would also say one of the reasons for my shift was feminism — the first feminist group I became part of in the late 1960s and early 1970s used documents and methods that came partly from France, like political group psychoanalysis, which drew from Lacanian theory, analysing the relationship women have with the mother’s body, and so on. Sorry, I’m touching on many different subjects — readers can do their own research if they want to learn more about these things. Other material came from the United States, from the very important Boston collectives. Scholars and intellectuals like us had to do a lot of work to critique what Europe represented — its sense of superiority and legacy of colonialism — and ideologically separate ourselves from it. At the same time, people who don’t do intellectual work but many other important jobs contributed in a series of other fields, such as cultural exchanges, travel and cinema, helping shape a new version of Europe.”
I’d like to get back to immigration. We have a project, currently taking place in a secondary school, called Quaderni Continentali Young (Young Continental Notebooks). The themes we discussed have come up a lot in class since the students are originally from non-European countries, from other continents. When we asked them to what degree they felt European, they seemed baffled. They replied things like, “Actually, I’m Latin American,” or “Well, I’m Filipino.” These are people who have been living here with their families for years, and some were even born here. So my question is: what can being European mean for them?
“There was a recurring element that appeared in the drawings. By the way, these drawings are part of an e-book that’s available online, titled Conversations on Visual Memory. I remember one that depicted South America and Europe connected by a line. There is a dual sense of belonging that many people actively claim and embrace. I find it a bit strange that a group of young people wouldn’t be curious to explore it. In my experience with schools, it came as a genuine revelation for some of them that they could have more than one identity, and that Europe could also be approached very critically. I think that we, as teachers — but also families and the media — don’t do enough to help young people see Europe as part of a wider world. The Italian press rarely covers other continents in a complex way to convey the nuances in these relationships. When they do speak about other continents, it is usually from the perspective of war or economics, as you mentioned earlier. I think we could do much more. The significant responses we got during those five years of research made me realise that people are receptive to this concept, as if we all really need.
Luisa Passerini is Professor Emerita of History at the European University Institute in Florence.
