Talk in the streets is of a new Europe, a seamless superstate of common dreams. But down below, the No. 7 metro rumbles from Tolbiac to Stalingrad, evoking 15 centuries of bitter conflict.
Phantoms of the past haunt present realities as 10 more states swell the EU to 25 members in a merger of old Cold War enemies. It may take more than a single currency and catchall constitution to lay those old ghosts to rest.
Each capital has its own historical references that prophesy hard work ahead in forging a single European identity. In Paris, the words of the prophets are written on subway walls.
Station names like Stalingrad need little explanation. In living memory, 25 million people died on the Russian front because an Austrian-born megalomaniac tried to unite Europe under a German flag.
But Tolbiac?
"No idea," said Martine Fillatre, whose wine shop faces the Tolbiac station. Given a hint -- history -- she brightened. "Oh, right. Vercingetorix. Gauls and Romans." Not even close.
Vercingetorix is remembered at Alesia, on a different subway line, named for a brave but fruitless battle in 52BC against Julius Caesar's legions, which swept across France and settled in to stay.
Tolbiac was where Clovis, the Franks' first king, seized Alsace from Germanic tribes in 496AD. In the historical continuum, Adolf Hitler's Rhine campaign was just another round of an ancient struggle.
Depending upon how one counts, France and Germany have fought more than a dozen wars. Even now, when chances of another are beyond dim, the two continental giants are often at odds on national interest.
For optimists like Fillatre, a bold new EU offers a chance to banish the old ghosts and bury ancient quarrels.
"I'm excited by the idea," she said. "Just imagine, now we can all finally work together and build something new."
Others are more cautious. Rene Pellet, in the southern city of Draguignan, saw friends shot while he served in the French Resistance against Germany. He has also read a lot of European history.
"It is encouraging that we can now live in peace," he said. "That's not bad for a start. But are we the same people as Germans? Or Poles? I don't think so."
For many, memories have yet to dim. Past Stalingrad, the No. 7 stops at Corentin Cariou. He was a Paris councilman shot when the Nazis decided to kill 100 Frenchmen for each German sniper victim.
Some names go back to Napoleon. Austerlitz in 1805 was his grand triumph over Austria and Russia. Rivoli sealed Italy's fate. At Iena, he humbled the Prussians and, at Wagram, the Bavarians.
Elsewhere in Europe, old names recall Napoleon differently. The London-Paris train under the English Channel starts at Waterloo, named after the place where an English commander defeated Napoleon. It's the station where Queen Elizabeth II boarded when the came to Paris in March to mark 100 years of the Entente Cordiale.
Berlin's Alexanderplatz is named for the Russian czar who martialed forces against the Napoleonic legions that menaced an entire continent.
The idea of a single Europe is hardly new.
Voltaire, in 1751, saw "a kind of great republic divided into several states, some monarchical, the others mixed ... but all corresponding with one another."
Rousseau, two decades later, wrote, "There are no longer Frenchmen, Germans and Spaniards, or even English, but only Europeans."



