From the sandy beaches of Barcelona to the natural history museums in Rotterdam, the Erasmus experience has managed to cater to almost all the tastes and needs of the multicultural Gen Z; probably the first European generation to develop a primary sense of European identity whilst sitting in the lecture theatres of a foreign university rather than through treaties or institutions. A first-hand encounter with the finest moments of European integration, which has succeeded in the not always straightforward task of creating an experience that is both formative and educational at a crossroads of traditions and cultures that remain largely unexplored.
Broken suitcases, depleted savings and homesickness: nothing can dampen the enthusiasm for the Erasmus programme, now hailed as one of the European Union’s greatest successes.

Launched in 1987, whilst in the early 1990s it was seen as an innovative project but one still aimed at a select few; it was during the two-year period from 2002 to 2004 that it reached its international peak (not coincidentally coinciding with the introduction of the euro and a growing sense of European enthusiasm), with over a million students taking part in total.
Although the generation that has benefited, and continues to benefit most from the cultural legacy of Erasmus, is the so-called Gen Z, it is the Millennial students who experienced the period of complete transformation of the concept of a ‘normal trip abroad’ into an experiential journey that has revolutionised their social networks just as much as their political views and career prospects.

What perhaps sets Gen Z apart is another aspect: it is the generation that has had access to a much broader Erasmus programme. Today, the Erasmus+ programme encompasses not only university exchanges, but also work placements, vocational training, volunteering and mobility to a greater number of countries than in its early days.
Whilst Erasmus was more of a revolutionary experience for Millennials, for Gen Z it is a natural extension of their sense of a multicultural and international everyday life. It is not a huge difference, but it is an interesting nuance that often translates into diametrically opposed ideals and life choices.

In today’s Europe, national boundaries are being broken down in the kitchen of a shared flat in the centre of Amsterdam, or during a game of cards played on a green lawn in Berlin after a German literature lecture. A silent revolution, one that often involves the most privileged students – those backed by a wealthy family ready to pay the expensive university fees and the price of carefree youth – but that does not mean it is not already an excellent response to the waves of European crisis. Erasmus was conceived as a remedy for the growing fear of being excluded from the meaningful social relationships fostered during adolescence – relationships of which many young students have been deprived due to extremely disappointing and oppressive collective realities such as school bullying or premature family responsibilities. A six-month, or even a year-long, trip abroad offers the chance to believe once more in the beauty of connections beyond the narrow streets of one’s own suburban neighbourhood, where the gossip in the corridors becomes a distant echo against the backdrop of a fulfilling conversation with new friends and teachers.

But what was Europe like before Erasmus? How did young people develop their future sense of European identity? Primarily through historical memory.

Despite the establishment of the European Economic Community in 1957, a large part of the population still lived within a predominantly national framework.
The post-war period in Europe had fostered a strong sense of dialogue amongst its historical neighbours, mainly in the context of peace: mindful of humanity’s great defeat at the hands of the Holocaust, the sharing of neighbouring lands was no longer a cause for ideological conflict.
Before the 1980s, the idea of being European already existed, but it was much weaker and largely confined to the cultural, political and academic elites. This helped to foster intense feelings of nationalism: the study of a foreign language almost always took place within one’s own country, people knew only a few foreign friends, media consumption was almost entirely national, and there was little practical use of the languages learnt.

A sense of European identity was primarily rooted in pride in having studied Greco-Roman history, in town twinning schemes (a phenomenon particularly prevalent in the 1960s and 1970s), or in ordinary youth organisations with shared objectives.
However, according to several scholars, modern Europe was created in two fundamental stages: through the vision of post-war politicians such as Konrad Adenauer, Alcide De Gasperi and Robert Schuman, upon whose vision the major institutions were founded; and through the initiative of young people, who, thanks to transnational programmes such as Erasmus, were able to overcome the obstacles of twentieth-century thinking.

And this is perhaps why the programme has had an unprecedented symbolic impact: rather than promoting student mobility in the traditional sense, it has transformed Europe from a political project into a reality shared and experienced by millions of young people.