Ivan Krastev: Footnote

“Europe is too thickly planted with kingdoms to be long at peace,” wrote Thomas Paine some two centuries ago. Since then, many things have changed but not America’s skepticism about Europe. Speaking at the National Defense University some weeks ago, Secretary Gates expressed his fear that “demilitarization of Europe—where large swaths of the general public and political class are averse to military force and the risks going with it—has gone from a blessing in the 20th century to an impediment to achieving real security and lasting peace in the 21st.” In short, Europe is planted with too many pacifist democracies to be long enough at war. What does all this mean for the future of NATO?

Andrew Bacevich, a respected and fiercely independent analyst of American foreign policy and WorldAffairsDaily blogger, gives his answer in an intriguing piece titled “Let Europe Be Europe: Why the United States must withdraw from NATO” in the current issue of Foreign Policy. He argues that pacification of Europe’s liberal democracies is an irreversible process and that Washington’s hope to reignite the affinity for war among the people of Germany or Spain is misplaced. In his opinion, contrary to the claims of its leaders, NATO is ill-fitted for the role of global crisis manager; thus, Washington should scrap its ambitions for a global NATO—rather, it should push the EU to play a more central role in the defense of the European continent. EU can best assist the U.S. by taking care of its own security and not by joining the U.S. in global police missions.

I sympathize with Bacevich’s argument. For me, however, the central question is whether the EU can defend Europe.

In terms of capability: The answer is probably “yes.” Take Russia, for example. Russia is a formidable power, but it is not the Soviet Union. The combined military spending of the EU member states is 10 times higher than that of Moscow. British and French armed forces are far better equipped and far better trained than the Russians. Russia resembles more an angry man on crunches than a rising power. Still, a radical American withdrawal from Europe—contrary to Bacevich’s view— would have a de-stabilizing effect, as it can result in re-nationalization of the foreign and security policies of the EU member states. The sad reality today is that when it comes to Russia, Berlin and Paris prefer bilateral talks with Moscow, while Eastern Europe prefers to look to Washington, rather than Brussels. Secondly, you should not be Rumsfeld to believe that weakness is an invitation for aggression, so the U.S.’s withdrawal from Europe can change Russia’s strategic behavior on the continent and dramatically increase the risk of military confrontation in Europe’s periphery. The U.S.’s withdrawal will also increase the uncertainty in the EU-Turkey security dialogue. At the moment, Turkey is on its way to joining the EU, but her foreign policy is diverging from that of her European allies. The specter of multipolar Europe—with EU, Russia, and Turkey representing different interests—is more present than ever. Add to all this the countless logistical problems that the U.S.’s withdrawal will cause, and you will realize the dangerous side of Bacevich’s argument.

But, in my view, where Andrew Bacevich is totally right is that the U.S.’s relations with its European allies should shift back to Europe. Making Afghanistan the issue over which the future of NATO is going to be decided is a recipe for disaster.

Let’s face it, if Greece were a Central European country, the Greek crisis would never have happened. First, Germany and France were never going to allow a country known for its poor economic performance, bad political manners and genius for creative accounting to join the single currency union. Secondly, if by luck or negligence the Greece of Central Europe had ended up in the euro zone, Brussels was going to thoroughly scrutinize Athens’s finances. But Greece is not a Central European country. While the European Commission was crusading against corruption in the Yalta Club countries, the Club Med countries enjoyed the privilege of being treated as good Europeans without actually being good Europeans. Imagine that Bulgaria’s or Romanian’s prime minister controls 80 percent of the national media and is in the habit of spending his holidays entertaining prostitutes. Or imagine that the Hungarian prime minister—contrary to all advice coming from Brussels—declares that he will not freeze public sector wages, despite the severe economic crisis. It is difficult even to imagine the outcry that would follow. But what outrages Brussels in Sofia or Budapest simply worries it in Rome or Madrid. Many in Europe dislike Italian prime minister Silvio Berlusconi’s version of freedom of the press, but German and French governments prefer to be silent on the issue. Many fear the economic policies of the current Spanish government, but nobody dares to criticize them. So, Greek prime minister George Papandreou was right when he said that the European Union is as much responsible for the crisis as Greece is. Because while the Greek debt crisis can teach us a lot about the way Greeks do finance and politics, it can also teach us a lot about the way the EU works. Brussels is an accomplice in the current Greek tragedy. Its role in it can be compared to the role played by Arthur Anderson’s auditors in the Enron scandal in the US.

The Greek crisis revealed the disturbing reality behind EU’s rhetoric of solidarity. The EU talks solidarity but European nations do not subscribe to it. It is indicative that more than 70 percent of Germans want Greece out of the euro zone, and that a member of the German Parliament advised Athens that selling some of its islands would be the best way to deal with the crisis, while Greek media are busy running stories about the Nazi’s war time occupation of Greece, and insisting that Germany owes Greece war time reparations. Contrary to the expectations of some politicians and commentators, the economic crisis did not lead to the resurgence of the spirit of solidarity in Europe. On the contrary, the crisis led to re-nationalization inspired by the fears and the anger of the European publics. And it is South Europe, not Central Europe that has turned out to be the economic danger zone.

While a year ago many feared that Central Europe was too corrupt and politically unstable, and its economies too liberal (too Anglo-Saxon) to survive the crisis, now it has become clear that it was actually South Europe that was too sleazy and unreformed, and too little restrained by Brussels, to respond effectively to the challenges brought about by the crisis. What distinguishes Hungary and Greece today is not the scale of the problems they face, but the political will on the side of their governments to pay the price for getting out of the mess. At the moment there are more EU countries that are not members of the euro zone but fulfill the Maastricht criteria than there are members of the euro zone doing that. Poland is the only EU economy that did not slide into recession. In the words of the Lithuanian prime minister, “as long as the country is not a member of the single currency, the Maastricht criteria are applied very strictly, but once you are in, you can do almost what you want.” Central Europe’s major advantage in the current moment is its two decades long experience in implementing unpopular reforms. And it turned out that it is exactly the capacity to promote painful reforms that divides Europe today.    
 
Central Europe can pride itself for passing (so far) the crisis test, and proving that it is the most change-friendly camp in the Union. But at the same time Central Europe has much to lose if the EU takes the wrong lesson or follows the wrong instinct in the aftermath of the Greek debt crisis. Economists are in broad agreement that it does not make much sense to be outside of the euro zone when the euro is doing well, but it is even worse to be out of the euro zone when the euro is doing badly. And now countries like Bulgaria and Estonia fear that they will be “rewarded” for their decision to keep the Maastricht criteria in the time of crisis with some more years in the euro zone waiting room. The fear is that, shocked by the vulnerability of the “PIIGS” (Portugal, Ireland, Italy, Greece and Spain), Germans and French can concentrate their effort on consolidating the euro zone before enlarging it.

The crisis also demonstrated that the single currency will remain vulnerable as long as there is no common fiscal policy in the euro zone. The former French prime minister Balladur already urged the euro zone countries to agree to have a common treasury that would approve their national budgets. But while a new step in the direction of more political unity can strengthen the euro and can be welcomed by many Central Europeans, Central Europe fears the return of the ghost of the two-speed Europe. It is not simply that the crisis did not bring the resurgence of the spirit of solidarity, but that it brought to life some dangerous ideas that many considered already buried.

The economic crisis leaves the EU more divided than it has been since the beginning of the war in Iraq. Fortunately this time it is not about “old Europe” versus “new Europe,” it is about the euro zone versus the non-euro zone members. Unfortunately, if you look at the map, the euro zone EU overlaps with “old Europe,” and the non-euro zone countries includes most of the Yalta Club countries.

What is wrong with meritocracy? Why is the modern meritocratic elite trusted less than the old establishment? Why, as we have made our institutions more meritocratic, has their public standing plummeted? David Brooks asked all these uneasy questions in a recent column in The New York Times, and offered some answers: Our idea of meritocracy is based on a narrow definition of talent; people are less connected to the leadership class today than yesterday; the elite’s solidarity is weaker; the time horizon of the elites has shortened; and society has become dangerously transparent. Some of Brooks’ arguments can come as a surprise to his fellow commentators.

In recent years, meritocracy—rather than democracy—was the ideology of the post-political elites. But now, when the global economic crisis has turned Wall Street's best and brightest from heroes into villains, it is the right time to remind ourselves that some four decades ago Michael Young was warning about the dark side of meritocracy. This system creates a world with clear justifiable winners and losers. And, contrary to John Rawls’ claim, it turns out that being a loser in a meritocratic society is much more psychologically devastating than being a loser in an unfair society, where you can blame the unfairness of the system for your failure. It is also true that meritocratic elites, convinced of the legitimacy of their success, tend to be less compassionate than the traditional establishment. They define success not in the plural “we” but in the singular “me.” While the sons of the old establishment pay for their privilege with rushing first to volunteer to go to war and die (this is the story of the British elite in the days of WWII), the meritocratic elites of today find it a matter of principle to fight for their bonuses.

But in my view, the real reason for the explosion of the public’s distrust in the meritocratic elites is the growing sense that regardless of all the accountability and transparency talk, people see their ability to influence this elite declining. In a strange way, modern democracies make decision-making more transparent than ever. But at the same time, people feel less powerful than before. In the post-ideological politics of today, the elections have stopped being about choice and have become a referendum on the performance of those in power. Voters can change governments, but they cannot change policies. Moreover, the new meritocratic elites are unconstrained by ideology or fear. When a politician loses elections, he becomes a lobbyist; when a banker loses money, he is bailed out. Contrary to the old establishment, the meritocratic elites are convinced that their best contribution to society is to pursue their own interests as best as possible. Nineteenth-century England was defined as an aristocracy tempered by riots. Today's democracies could be defined as meritocracies legitimized by audits.

So, is it strange that people distrust the leadership class?

The best way to grasp the growing anger of the public against the meritocratic elites is to board a crowded transatlantic airplane. The moment you board the plane, you are reminded that you live in a class society. There is an economy class, a business class, and even a first class. In the leadership classes, the seats are better, the food is better, the entertainment is better. Access to the business class is quite easy. You do not need a birth certificate; you only need to pay five times more. Although access to the business class is simple, the relations between the classes are quite rigid. The only time the curtain is removed between the economy class and the business class is in the threat of potential danger— during takeoffs and landings.

(Krastev writes more on this topic in Prospect.)

Small wars and small coalition partners: This is really what should worry NATO. Small wars are difficult to win; small coalition partners are difficult to ignore. On Saturday, as coalition forces were fighting their way in a make-it-or-break-it offensive in the Taliban stronghold of Marja, the Dutch government was carrying on a make-it-or-break-it fight of its own. In terms of the latter, however, they opted to break it—the government collapsed after a final effort to keep Dutch troops in Afghanistan failed miserably. Bad timing, to say the least. But the “fall of The Hague” could be worse. Disregarding the appeals of NATO’s secretary general, the leadership of the Labor Party, the smaller partner in the governing coalition in the Netherlands, made it clear that Dutch troops should return home by the end of the year. The new reality in Europe is that a call from NATO headquarters in Brussels is not enough to change a country’s politics.

The collapse of the coalition government in the Netherlands was hardly a surprise. It was no secret that the Christian Democrats and the Labor Party were in the mood for a divorce, evidenced by a 76 percent public disapproval rating. What really matters is not the Labor Party's decision to torpedo the coalition, but its decision to do it over the government’s Afghanistan policy.

There are several simple conclusions to be made. Unlike the days of the Cold War, foreign and security policy in Western Europe is not outside the sidelines from domestic political games. In the days of the Cold War, the foreign policy was too important and politicians preferred to keep it out of normal politicking. In the post-Cold War period with the disappearance of the Soviet threat, foreign policy became important enough for electoral purposes. The perverse effect of the economic crisis is that the disputes over foreign policy is becoming highly attractive for political parties that have lost their ideologies and are in search of voters. Parties try to improve their chances of election by addressing symbolic issues—like war—and not by taking positions on major economic issues. If this trend continues, we can expect that foreign policy will be at the center of populist posturing, and NATO’s appeal for unity and responsibility will have no effect.

In short, in the age of populism, NATO will find it more and more difficult to sustain political support for out-of-area missions. And this challenge to NATO's new role should be seriously thought through in the new strategic concept of the alliance.

The Orange Revolution has faded away in Ukraine. Democracy survived, but it is a democracy without much hope. You want to get a feeling what is going on in the country and why anger and apathy are shaping Ukraine’s public life? Then stop reading the semi-intelligent op-eds and think tanks’ briefs that flooded Western media last week and focus on the story of Vladimir Boyko published in The Wall Street Journal.

Vladimir Boyko is a young, smart, and entrepreneurial student. In 2004, he joined the thousands of young Ukrainians in what we used to call “civil society.” Dressed in orange and full of hope, he was on the streets and was a likely source for a Wall Street Journal journalist writing an article about Ukraine’s future. In fact, he was Ukraine’s future. He is on the streets again, but this time he is not an idealistic young man in search of change, or an NGO activist. He is on the street because he is in the business of crowd renting. His company, Easy Work, has assembled a database of several thousand students. It can mobilize them on a day’s notice to turn up at demonstrations anywhere in Kiev, stand for hours, and cheer and jeer on cue. Boyko’s crowd does not have political preferences. His employees are ready to turn up at any rally they are paid to attend. Easy Work pays $4 an hour and is proud of always paying on time. In The Wall Street Journal’s beautiful formulation, Boyko’s company represents a “mercenary form of activism.” Many of the people whom you saw shouting and jeering in last week’s TV reports from Ukraine’s elections rallies were most likely Boyko’s employees.

So, Easy Work is the new post-Orange face of Ukrainian politics. It is the new version of a social contract. Mercenary activism has replaced the civic activism of 2004.

Boyko’s crowd is symptomatic not because it had any impact on elections results but because it is the most dramatic manifestation of the mixture of apathy, anger, and cynicism that is eroding Ukraine’s public life. It is symptomatic for the democracy of mistrust emerging in many places in Eastern Europe. What is at the heart of these regimes is that they are democracies on paper, a mess in reality, and cynical at their heart. They are democracies without choices and bar any hope for real change. Societies are angry and radical but de-politicized at the same time. People view elections as a chance to publicly execute those in power. There is no “against everybody” ballot but in fact most citizens vote against everybody. Cynics are perceived as the most trustworthy people because they are not in the business of promising and betraying your promises after that. In short, the only way to benefit from politics is to register in the Easy Work database.

Corrupt politicians are not a new phenomenon in places like Ukraine. The trend of turning democratic politics into a competition in outspending the opponent is not just a Ukrainian problem. However, Boyko’s Easy Work gives us a glimpse into something new. Easy Work’s crowd is not composed of frightened workers brought to the squares by company busses and bolstered by the anxiety that if their oligarch loses the elections they most probably will lose their jobs. Unlike the feudal crowds usually delivered by the East Ukrainian oligarchs, the Easy Work crowd is composed of free individuals who have autonomously decided to earn some money by faking political activism. They cannot be disillusioned this time. They do not dream of a strong leader, and they do not dream of democracy, either. When it comes to politics, they do not dream at all. Today it is hard to imagine that these young people will ever again take to the streets for free.