At the Munich Security Conference in February, the US vice-president, JD Vance, informed his hosts that they were a wretched bunch of effete, cheese-eating milquetoasts with whom his country could no longer be bothered (I paraphrase but not that much). There has since been lots of hand-wringing about how the continent should respond to the threat of US abandonment. One of the most robust responses that I’ve heard came from the former commander of the US Army in Europe, Lieutenant General Ben Hodges. Speaking to The Foreign Desk at the Delphi Economic Forum in April, he suggested (and I paraphrase barely at all) that Europe should stop whining, recognise that it is a superpower and start acting like one.
Hodges is correct. Europe’s combined GDP and collective military spending dwarf that of Russia, its only meaningful external threat. But perhaps neither Russia nor Europe can see past the fact that, for all the supranational organisations that European countries might have joined, the continent remains a kaleidoscope of nationalities. The idea of formally uniting them is not new; it has been proposed in various forms by Winston Churchill, Leon Trotsky and George Orwell. But is its moment looming?
There are many examples of disparate democratic polities becoming one. The colonies of Australia formed a federation in 1901. The US became a unitary bloc in stages from the Declaration of Independence in 1776 to the admission of Hawaii in 1959 (and, as Donald Trump sees it, the country isn’t done yet). Indeed, many of Europe’s modern states were once disorderedly patchworks of fiefdoms.
In many respects, it doesn’t seem that difficult. Europe already has a flag, a parliament and a president. (The latter is not directly elected but that can be fixed. Who wouldn’t enjoy the sight of a Finnish candidate kissing babies in Greece or an Irish contender shaking hands in Montenegro?) Most of Europe already uses the same currency. It is true that there are cultural differences but I would contend that Poland and Portugal, for example, have at least as much in common as Alabama and Connecticut. The US turning away from Europe would have seemed, until recently, unthinkable. A United States of Europe is, at the very least, thinkable.
Mueller is the host of ‘The Foreign Desk’ on Monocle Radio.
Europeans need to understand the US – and fast. Too many of us still think that Washington’s instinct is to defend the West, and hence that Trumpism is a passing aberration. It surely can’t be normal for Americans to hate one another so much that more than half the nation voted for a leader who gabbles about annexing countries instead of opting to be ruled by liberals. But Trumpism is an extreme reset back to the US’s default position;: largely indifferent toward Europe, driven by the belief that there are far more urgent matters at home to take care of. Europeans find this hard to grasp because their entire history has made it clear that the biggest threats to their lives and freedoms comes from militarised neighbours.
To understand why things look different across the Atlantic, let’s channel John Quincy Adams, the sixth president of the US and the great-grandaddy of isolationism. Imagine that what he called “this Western World” is a different planet altogether: “planet USA”. On this planet, which was originally inhabited by a small number of easy-to-evict residents, lies everything that progress requires. M, most important of which is a complete lack of dangerous neighbours. With wealth for the taking and no one to threaten the settlers, the only real battle to be fought is among the planet’s people. Despite engaging victoriously in many major battles, the US’s civil war – the war that cost the most American lives – continues to define its politics.
During the Cold War era it seemed possible that communism could forcibly unite the world under an ideologically hostile regime. As a result, the US supported all non-communist countries. In 1990 a clique of so-called neo-conservatives in Washington hit upon a breathtaking new plan: they would beam down to any troubled land on Earth and terraform it into a simulacrum of “planet USA”. As Germany’s ex-foreign minister, Joschka Fischer, told me last year, “I was once a revolutionary myself, so I knew straight away that these weren’t conservatives – they were revolutionaries.” This revolution, like so many others, didn’t go well. As a result, Americans voted to concentrate on a far older and more existential issue: the battle for their nation’s character.
If you’re on “planet USA”, why would you worry about what Russia does in its terrestrial backyard? Russia is eager for mutually profitable deals and has a defence budget smaller than that of the UK and Germany combined. Vladimir Putin is not going to take away Republicans’ guns, raise taxes on the rich or destroy law and order with “wokeness”. Only the planet’s own, treacherous “libtards” can do that. Conversely, victory for a free Ukraine won’t save DEI programmes, women’s rights or Medicare. For that, the US Democrats must beat the screaming Magas at home.
Engaging with the rest of Earth is back to being merely an option for “planet USA”. Civil war, declared or not, is what really matters. That said, we earthlings should heed another of John Quincy’s insights: America “goes not abroad in search of monsters to destroy,” it does this at home. The US isn’t planning to save us from our own monsters (again). We have to learn to look after ourselves.
Hawes is the author of several books, including ‘The Shortest History of Germany’.
