THE FROG AND THE OX

 

 Artículo en “The Economist” del 2-6-05

 

 Por su interés y relevancia, he seleccionado el artículo que sigue para incluirlo en este sitio web. (L. B.-B.)

 

 

Americans are finding it hard to understand what is going on in Europe

 

There is a nice variant of one of Aesop's Fables which goes like this. A tiny frog shares a field with a giant ox. The frog tries to get the ox's attention by puffing himself up. The ox fails to notice the frog. The frog puffs himself up some more. The ox continues not to notice him. The frog finally puffs himself up so much that he explodes. But the ox still doesn't notice him.

Something much like this happened last Sunday. Many of the supporters of the European constitution nourish dreams of creating a United States of Europe. Valéry Giscard d'Estaing, the constitution's leading light, frequently spoke of his admiration for the American constitution. But the American reaction to the French non vote was a giant yawn. The news networks gave as much priority to the simultaneous vote in Lebanon, and both elections seemed less important than the result of the Indy 500.

 

 

Most of the excuses for ignoring the French vote are perfectly understandable. The results were released in the middle of a sunny Memorial Day weekend. The constitution is a turgid document that few Europeans have read, let alone Americans. Supporters like Jacques Chirac claimed that it was a bulwark against American-style capitalism; opponents like Jean-Luc Melenchon that it was “the law of the jungle turned into a constitution”. Eurocrats, implausibly, claim that they will continue to ratify the constitution whatever the people say.

There is a widespread feeling in America, too, that Europe doesn't matter any more—or at least that America doesn't have a dog in Europe's internal fights. The polite version of this sentiment is that Europe is a problem that has been solved. The continent is peaceful, prosperous and civilised. America's vital interests now lie elsewhere—in tackling terrorism and managing the emergence of China. The less polite version is that Europe is a spent force, with slow economic growth, death-spiral demographics, unaffordable welfare states, simmering Muslim populations and little ability to project power abroad.

Europe is clearly not as important as it thinks it is: that would be impossible. Yet America's indifference to it is wrong. It remains America's biggest trading partner and closest ally. Two-thirds of America's foreign investment since 2000 has gone to Europe. For all their problems, the EU and America work closely together in steering the world's economy: China is too undeveloped and Japan has failed to assume a leadership position. Since coming to office in 2001, George Bush has spent more time in Europe than anywhere else abroad—44 days, compared with 13 in Asia. And since being re-elected in 2004 he has put heavy emphasis on repairing the European relationship. For good reason: American action abroad is easier if Europe approves of it.

Which makes it all the more striking that so many of the people who did pay attention to the European result, including some close to Mr Bush, were positively gleeful. Many conservatives broke their self-imposed embargo on French products to pop the champagne. The grand non didn't just mean the humiliation of Mr Chirac, the grand fromage in the Axis of Weasel. It meant the humiliation of a political class that has been a thorn in the side of America since the second world war. Right-wing blogs crowed about the imminent collapse of Eurosocialism. One even produced a map of the “red” parts of France that had voted “no”—and noted its similarity with the 2004 map of the “red” parts of America that had voted for Mr Bush.

It would be churlish to deny the White House some pleasure. But that does not mean following those conservative mapmakers all the way to their eccentric conclusions. The no vote was driven by the most backward forces in France—the enemies of globalisation and Americanisation. And Mr Chirac promptly gave the prime ministership to Dominique de Villepin, an exponent of anti-Americanism in its most self-indulgent form.

The only serious justification for Americans to delight in the EU's plight would be if last weekend had frustrated the emergence of a European counterweight to American power. Yet that was always surely a fantasy, given both the continent's refusal to spend a significant amount of money on defence and its unstable relationship with other possible members of a “counterweight coalition”. In reality, a weak Europe is much more of a threat to America's interests than a strong one. The no vote not only guarantees several more years of Eurodithering and introspection: it also makes it much less likely that Europe will be able to absorb Turkey, let alone Ukraine, anytime soon, if ever.

 

Why America needs a stronger Europe

The most sensible American response to Europe's failure is to see it as an opportunity. An opportunity that is fraught with risks, to be sure, but one that would allow Europe to start down a more sensible path, and would let America nudge it in a more Anglo-Saxon direction. Bill Kristol, a leading neo-conservative, likens the French non to the rise of Ross Perot. Perotism was noisy, confused and full of unpleasant elements. But it showed that people were no longer willing to tolerate the old order, and it prepared the way for the rise of Bill Clinton on the left and Newt Gingrich and Rudy Giuliani on the right.

There are signs that a similar revolution is stirring in Europe. There is a good chance that Mr Chirac will be replaced in 2007 by Nicolas Sarkozy, who claims to be more of a fan of the free market; and an even better chance that Gerhard Schröder will be replaced this September by Angela Merkel, a woman who backed the invasion of Iraq. The shake-up gives America an opportunity to find new friends and collaborators in Europe.

Yet the paradox of America's European policy is that it only has a chance of influencing Europe if it is seen to be doing nothing. America needs to do what it can to make sure that the frog doesn't explode again. But in public at least, the ox needs to give the impression of being indifferent.