IT IS CALLED the European Union, and it has often struggled to live up to its name. But not in recent weeks. Ever since the invasion of Ukraine by Russia on February 24th, the 27 member states of the EU have acted as one. Cohesive in its aims and smoothly co-ordinated in its actions, Europe has basked in its novel role as a first-rate power. Yet the unifying effects of the original geopolitical jolt will inevitably wear off. Europe’s ability to stay united will guide both the outcome in Ukraine and the future of the bloc.
Some crises divide Europe, as with the euro-zone near-meltdown that pitted the rich north against the Mediterranean south a decade ago. Others bring it together, but only after months of chaos, as when covid-19 prompted national governments to pool both vaccines and the cost of protecting their economies. The sight of Russian bombs slaughtering civilians on the bloc’s doorstep, in contrast, shocked the EU into rapid action. The normal instinct of European politicians to squabble faded as the brutality of President Vladimir Putin’s war became apparent.
The speed and determination with which Europe acted has startled even old hands in Brussels, where EU institutions help forge compromise between national capitals. Differences of emphasis remain, as they inevitably do in a club of democracies. But repeated meetings of leaders—the third in a month will happen in Brussels on March 24th, with America’s President Joe Biden in attendance—have resulted in Europe making decision upon momentous decision. Policies that would normally require long, acrimonious debate have been nodded through. Funds were found to supply arms to Ukraine. Any Ukrainian seeking safe haven in the EU can walk right in.
This common purpose allowed the EU to impose tough sanctions on Russia within days of war breaking out, and further sanctions in three waves. These have massively raised the cost to Russia of waging war, even as European weapons in Ukrainian hands have made it harder for Mr Putin to win. Any one of the 27 member states could have vetoed these sanctions, but none did. Compromises have been struck time and again.
This unity comes despite divisions within Europe over how tightly to isolate Russia. “Sanctionistas” have pushed for a stricter embargo, including a ban on importing oil and gas. Countries such as Poland and the Baltic states worry Russia might attack them next; they say they would be willing to live by candlelight if it meant stopping money flowing to Moscow. A more hesitant bloc, including Germany and Italy, worry that cutting off energy imports would harm Europe as much as it does Russia.
In part because the hesitant group were swept into more extensive sanctions than anyone thought feasible, Europe is unlikely to do more for now. Poland is publicly calling for a total ban on trade with Russia. In the absence of some further battlefield outrage in Ukraine, or the spreading of the war to other countries, that is unlikely to be heeded. In time some sanctions may be watered down to suit some narrow interest. But until the fighting ends—and possibly for a long time afterwards—the bulk of the agreed measures will remain in force.
Other dossiers are also a source of disagreement, but not of mood-souring rows. Eastern countries would like Ukraine to be offered quick EU membership, perhaps alongside Moldova and Georgia. But founder members such as France and Germany have insisted the bloc offer only woolly assurances about Ukraine being in “the European family”.
And then there is money. Sanctions will cost Europe a lot. Even if Russian energy imports remain legal, the EU has plans to reduce them dramatically, for example by importing gas from farther afield. The conflict has caused a global surge in oil and gas prices. Some will suffer more than others. The EU’s poorer citizens, who spend more of their budgets on gas than the rich do, will feel the pinch. So will places that export a lot to Russia.
French officials had mooted a repeat of the economic rescue package devised during the pandemic, a €750bn ($827bn) fund known as Next Generation EU (NGEU). The new plan would involve the bloc’s member states jointly borrowing money to fund the necessary pivot away from Russian gas. The idea was received coolly by “frugal” countries including the Netherlands. But in the new era of entente cordiale, a compromise whereby some of the as-yet-unspent original NGEU money is to be repurposed looks likely to satisfy everyone, at least for now.
There will be other tests ahead. More than 3m Ukrainians have already sought refuge in the EU, nearly two-thirds of them in Poland. All sides agree that Poland cannot cope alone. Either it will have to be compensated financially, or its Ukrainians redistributed to other countries. This same question caused long and bitter spats when a surge of Syrian and Afghan refugees arrived in 2015. (Poland was then extremely reluctant to help, as it happens.) With Ukrainian refugees, the problem is expected to be resolved without much acrimony.
Other topics may prove thornier. The biggest risk to unity is that, as war stops being the all-consuming priority, old spats will reappear. For years the European Commission, the bloc’s executive arm, has attacked Poland over its dodgy courts and Hungary over corruption. Such “rule of law” concerns have led to EU funds being withheld. The commission seems minded to release money at least to Poland, implicitly recognising its role as a refugee haven. This will be seen by some as betraying fundamental principles, war or no war.
The return of budget rules suspended during the pandemic will also be fraught. Countries with large deficits, like France and Italy, had argued for more breathing space even before the Ukraine invasion, while frugal ones like Germany were keener for limits on public spending to be reinstated. All this comes at a time when the post-covid economic recovery has run out of steam.
Other long-standing policies that seemed settled may be seen in a new light after the war. Can Europe afford to cut carbon emissions so rapidly, given the war’s shock to energy supplies? Should it allow more intensive farming, for example with more genetically modified crops, to make up for the loss of food imports from Russia and Ukraine? What of its relationship with Brexit Britain? Or with China?
Where disagreements are likely to be polite but firm is around new security arrangements. France, which currently holds the rotating presidency of the Council of the EU, has long pushed for more “strategic autonomy”, a nebulous concept that includes Europe relying less on NATO for its defence. Eastern Europe still views NATO, and thus America, as the guardian of its borders. Meanwhile many governments have announced surges in military spending, but still along national lines.
Progress on overhauling Europe’s approach to defence will not be rapid. The debate around joint procurement of military kit, for example, has bubbled away for decades and will continue long after the current war has ended. The commission has been tasked with identifying gaps in the capacity of armed forces, a small step into defence matters which some think presages the start of deeper co-operation.
Continued unity, notably on sanctions, has given Europe a hard-power relevance it has rarely enjoyed. Standing up to Russia is popular among EU voters, and relatively painless so far. This moment of harmony will no doubt fade, if only for the welcome reason that the continent will feel less threatened than it did on the morning of February 24th. But the union thus far has lived up to its purpose.
Read more of our recent coverage of the Ukraine crisis