As Europeans See Us

By AMY FINNERTY.- In "The Anti-Americans," a gleeful but alarming documentary (Monday, 10-11 p.m. EDT, on PBS; check local listings), the producers psychoanalyze our conflicted relationships with some of our historical allies in Europe. Resentment mingles with admiration, envy and co-dependence in those regarding us from afar, but a good portion of this hour-long film -- part of the "America at a Crossroads" series -- is devoted to old-fashioned, ill-informed chauvinism, mostly of the Gallic variety.
Some of the criticism is richly deserved; we are fat, we don't learn foreign languages and we do export cultural trash. We are more often busy than reflective, a black mark in societies where introspection is revered. Some Americans might feel offended by the opinions solicited, perhaps selectively, by the filmmakers. But the diatribes here range from good-natured satire by those who do love us deep down to hilarious misconceptions by those who don't really know us at all.

'Adolescent Self-Definition'

American food is "worthless," spits a Camembert-nationaliste. Another Frenchwoman thinks all Americans are racist, except in New York. (Has she been to New York, one wonders.) A Pole riffs on American backsides spacious enough to provide a ride across a parking lot to one's gas-guzzler, and -- in ironic tribute to our insane entertainment culture -- an Englishman explains why he composed "Jerry Springer: The Opera."

A loquacious British MP -- one of the many public figures, intellectuals and cab-driving philosophers who provide comment -- calls this sort of disparagement a form of "adolescent self-definition," by which the European teenagers throw stones at a gauche but all-powerful parent. In this analysis, they look to us as an example from which to distance themselves, reinforcing their own cultural identity while collecting their allowance and taking us for granted.

In Britain, American culture is devoured, but at a fashionable London dinner party, the guests' horrified fascination takes a snooty turn. Over wine and, doubtless, organic fare, a blonde in cleavage-enhancing pearls worries about the "idiot" masses electing our politicians, who in turn trespass haplessly on their side of the trans-Atlantic chasm. In much of Europe, citizens feel that they should have a say in American affairs, due to our exceptional impact abroad.

The message is not lost on their children. Pupils at an elite French elementary school, sons and daughters of the intelligentsia, produce drawings of illiterate Americans, Bush "massacring the planet," and a Yank with "a machine gun that he's killing someone with." French and other politicians are adept at using anti-Americanism to win votes, we learn, though even Jacques Chirac himself loves America. (His successor, Monsieur Sarkozy, does as well.)

Also at work in the European psyche is a kind of transference, in which each nation loves or hates us (or both) in a way that reflects its own history -- and its own unresolved traumas -- more than it reflects, say, the objective facts of McDonald's, Hollywood or the Iraq War.

French Rappers

Just as some resent us for the long shadow that makes them feel inadequate, or endangered, others look to us as a preferable alternative to the bad relationship they're in. Some French rappers, representing the disenfranchised outskirts of charming cities, covet big cars and thick chains, and, Iraq notwithstanding, they admire Bush as "a guy who succeeds at doing his own thing." One rapper boasts that he was the first in France to affix diamonds to his teeth.

Poland, after being in the custody of an abusive parent, the old Soviet Union, is willing to overlook our flaws. Many Poles still view us as part of an axis of benevolence that included Ronald Reagan, Pope John Paul II and Lech Walesa. Singing cowboys imitate our music and attract fans at a Polish country music festival. Notably, some of those fans seem to have taken on American dietary habits.

Unlike the French, a substantial percentage of Poles have first-hand experience of America. They travel back and forth for work and, indeed, seem to be far less critical of the war in Iraq than they are of our immigration policies, which allow the America-hating French to visit our shores sans visa, but force Poles to line up for abuse at consulates -- for an extortionate fee, with no visa guaranteed.

As in love, each country brings its own baggage to the relationship and sometimes struggles to fathom the heart and mind of its counterpart. We fight beside you in Iraq, a Pole complains with an air of resignation, and give you our hearts. In return, you treat us "like a woman that you beat."