In her seminal work, The March of Folly, American historian Barbara Tuchman provided four historical examples, from the Trojan War to the Vietnam War, of absurd decisions made by governments against their own interests, decisions that changed the course of history. If she were still alive, the war in Ukraine could well be the fifth chapter of her book, so closely does the unveiling of the roadmap for Ukraine’s reconstruction resemble the premonition of the EU’s self-destruction.
After spending €193 billion, nearly confiscating Russian assets without having the authority to do so, borrowing €90 billion and causing energy prices to skyrocket, the EU is sleepwalking towards the precipice. Thanks to this leak, everyone now knows what supporting Ukraine “whatever it takes” really means: An €800 billion reconstruction plan largely reliant on European taxpayers’ contributions, not to mention Ukraine’s express accession to the EU in 2028 and security guarantees.
This reconstruction plan, concocted in total secrecy, raises such crucial questions for the EU that it’s time to face reality instead of hiding behind slogans and platitudes. Helping Ukraine rebuild is one thing. For this country to become a bottomless pit for Europeans, a permanent mortgage for generations to come, is quite another, because supporting Ukraine is already a heavy financial burden for economically weakened, heavily indebted, demographically moribund countries grappling with a host of domestic problems. Is it reasonable to dedicate €100 billion of the European budget to a single state after having already loaned it €90 billion that will never be repaid? The question is not whether Ukraine deserves it, but whether the EU can afford it.
An unpleasant question, but even more pressing with regard to enlargement, starting with agriculture. Swallowing up an agricultural giant like Ukraine would be a death knell for European grain farmers, who are already seriously threatened by Brussels bureaucracy and Mercosur. If the transit of Ukrainian agricultural products in 2022 to mitigate the restrictions on maritime exports imposed by the war provoked a storm of protest, imagine the cataclysm that Ukraine’s entry into the Common Agricultural Policy would be.
But it could well be that the biggest victim of Ukraine’s accession will be the enlargement policy and the credibility of the Union itself. Let’s be clear, the accession process is a “hunger game,” a marathon with multiple stages, a strict new methodology and 35 chapters. A few examples: Serbia was granted candidate status in 2012, opened negotiations in 2014, and, as we speak, managed to open 22 chapters and closed only two. Yet, it is much faster than Northern Macedonia, which became a candidate in 2005 only to open negotiations in…2022, 17 years later!
And now we hear that Ukraine, a devastated, notoriously corrupt country, which is a world away from the Copenhagen criteria, in which the rule of law is conspicuous by its absence, will be ready in a few months — really? And what about the six Western Balkan countries that are waiting for Godot and are constantly rejected, should they be told that enlargement is no longer merit based and that asked to wait a few more decades? Clearly, for Brussels, some are far more equal than others.
And above all, let’s consider the explosive question of unanimity, that legal safeguard so despised by the federalist establishment. Every stage of the accession process requires the “Yes” vote of all member states, and that the accession treaty, the final step, must be ratified at the national level, sometimes even by referendum. According to opinion polls, most Europeans are not in favour of Ukraine’s entry, and Hungary is vehemently opposed, saying aloud what many others are thinking privately. Will the EU in general, and Ursula von der Leyen in particular, dare to force the issue and trigger the mother of all crises?
By swallowing Ukraine, the risk of implosion is obvious, and yet, to no avail, the EU continues to sleepwalk towards the abyss. Yet, alternatives exist: A strategic partnership with Ukraine without making it a Member State, participation in some but not all European policies, more European private investment in the reconstruction plan, and the use of public funds without squandering the European budget. Such a compromise would likely be accepted by all EU governments if Zelensky didn’t spend his time insulting them.
What is the reason for such blindness? Is it geopolitical romanticism or a desire to exploit a crisis to assert itself on the international stage? Is it simple inertia or a desire to save face after years of missteps? In any case, the Ukrainian case confirms that when countries or empires no longer place their own interests at the centre of their policies, they quickly lose their bearings and embark on a descent into madness from which they rarely recover. Will the EU wake up in time? That is the question.
After Maduro’s arrest, Spain’s Sánchez breaks out in a cold sweat