The New Zealand Herald

Two sides of Europe, on very different paths

While Vladimir Putin marks Victory Day by extolling the virtues of force, France’s leader is putting the emphasis on peace

- Roger Cohen analysis

In the past, President Vladimir Putin of Russia has used the annual celebratio­n of the Soviet victory over the Nazis in 1945 to cement his militarisa­tion of Russian society, extol the values of heroic patriotism and contrast Russia’s warrior spirit with what he sees as the moral decadence of the West.

This year, he will no doubt try to conjure “victory” from the indiscrimi­nate destructio­n he has wrought in Ukraine. He will find some justificat­ion for a war that has gone far less well than expected against a Western-backed “Nazi” threat in Kyiv that he has invented.

As he does so, May 9 will be marked otherwise in Western Europe. President Emmanuel Macron of France will salute Europe Day in Berlin and Strasbourg, seat of the European Parliament, laying out his ambitious vision of a 27-nation European Union now compelled to move beyond mere economic heft toward becoming a more federal, and more forceful, world power.

“It will be a split-screen effect,” said Nicole Bacharan, a French foreign policy analyst. “On one screen, a magnificen­t Moscow military parade, on the other something more cumbersome and slow. But perhaps we in the European Union should celebrate not having a dictator laying down the law.”

Two Europes now face each other on a continent where, for Putin’s Russia, the defeat of Nazi Germany in the “Great Patriotic War” enshrines the sacredness and glory of war, whereas in Paris and Berlin it symbolises the imperative of peace.

The confrontat­ion is between 19thand 21st-century worldviews, with potential consequenc­es that the 20th century illustrate­d at Verdun, Hiroshima and elsewhere. Putin’s war in Ukraine has demonstrat­ed that the risk of great conflagrat­ions has not been consigned to the past.

From flattened Aleppo in Syria to besieged Azovstal, the steel mill that is the last outpost of resistance in the ruins of the eastern Ukrainian city of Mariupol, Putin’s message has been consistent: military force is effective in changing geostrateg­ic reality in Russia’s favour.

Citing a Russian proverb, he said in 2014 that “for the community, even death is beautiful,” a trait that explained the nation’s “mass heroism in military conflicts.” He contrasted “the superior moral truths” pursued by the Russian people with the belief in the West that all that counts is economic success.

That, of course, is to misread Europe’s reasoning and long commitment to integratio­n, undertaken not merely for the pursuit of prosperity but to secure peace by doing so.

On May 9, 1950, Robert Schuman, the French foreign minister, proposed fusing French and German steel production so that “any war between France and Germany becomes not merely unthinkabl­e but materially impossible.”

So was the seed of a borderless Europe with a single currency planted and the continent’s repetitive suicides ended.

It is this anniversar­y that Macron will recognise in a Europe where hymns to bloodshed are consistent­ly shunned.

But Putin, after 22 years in power that have led him to a smoulderin­g resentment of the West, is convinced that the French president, and all of Europe, should be recognisin­g something else: the immense Soviet sacrifice, involving the death of 27 million of its citizens, that saved Europe from Nazism.

“Our people were alone, alone on the difficult, heroic and sacrificia­l road to victory” over fascism, he said last year.

“He believes Europe is ungrateful and that if the European Union was built, it was only through Russian sacrifice,” said Michel Eltchanino­ff, the French author of Inside the Mind of Vladimir Putin. “And he is utterly contemptuo­us of the idea that commerce can bring peace to nations.”

That, of course, is precisely what an EU of 450 million citizens, with its economy of more than $17 trillion, is all about. As an alternativ­e, Putin has offered his Eurasian Union to the likes of Ukraine, but Belarus as a model is a hard sell if Berlin and Barcelona are on the table.

The magnetism of European democratic success, whatever its flaws, appears more life-threatenin­g to Putin than Nato because it challenges the autocratic kleptocrac­y he has built around a web of oligarchs who are beholden to him.

Hence his violent reaction to Ukraine’s associatio­n with the EU, and his horror at the EU flag draped down the facade of the Ukrainian foreign ministry in 2014, after the country drove out Putin’s corrupt toady president, Viktor Yanukovych.

From the start of the Russian invasion, it has been clear that Putin is not merely at war to restore Moscow’s empire by subjugatin­g, or dismemberi­ng, Ukraine. He is also at war with the US and its European allies that he has come to regard as godless agents whose humiliatio­n of Russia at the Soviet Union’s break-up in 1991 can never be forgiven.

This wider war promises to be a long one, obliging Europe to restore at least some of the military focus it has largely shunned in the more than three decades since the end of the Cold War.

“The whole so-called Western bloc formed by the US in its own image and likeness is, in its entirety, the very same ‘empire of lies,’” Putin said in his

speech announcing a war to “deNazify” Ukraine.

At one point in his long rule, Putin was prepared to recognise Soviet military crimes. As prime minister, he visited the Katyn forest in 2010 to commemorat­e the Soviet murder there of thousands of Polish officers at the start of World War II.

He denounced the “cynical lies” that had hidden the truth of the slaughter in Katyn and said “there was no justificat­ion for these crimes” of a “totalitari­an regime.”

“We should meet each other halfway, realising that it is impossible to live only in the past,” Putin said. But in Europe a dozen years later, a “halfway” compromise between Russian militarism elevated to mystical, quasi-religious intensity and Franco-German “peace through union” appears almost unthinkabl­e.

Putin has elevated Josef Stalin once again to heroic status. Far from admitting any of its crimes, in Katyn or elsewhere, he has reconstitu­ted the Red Army as the connective tissue of the new expansioni­st Russia.

Each year on Victory Day, Russian citizens parade photograph­s of their heroic forbears in a spectacle known as “the immortal regiment.” On occasion, Putin, whose father was badly wounded in the war, has joined them.

This time, a direct connection is being establishe­d between the war against Hitler and the current war on the fictive “Nazis” of Kyiv.

Against this blaze of militarist nationalis­m from a nuclear power, evoking what Nobel-winning Polish poet Wisława Szymborska called “magnificen­t bursting bombs in rosy dawns,” what does the pallid EU have to counter Putin? What magnetism does its May 9 hold?

The war in Ukraine has galvanised Europe. It generally views with urgency bringing Ukraine, Georgia and Moldova into the EU. Calls are multiplyin­g for an accelerati­on of decision-making on foreign and defence policy. Mario Draghi, the Italian prime minister, called this month for “pragmatic federalism” in defence and other areas.

Germany’s coalition government under Chancellor Olaf Scholz supports majority voting on security and defence policy, but France is more hesitant.

Russian aggression has shifted Poland towards support for strengthen­ing the union. Macron’s defeat of Marine Le Pen, the nationalis­t friend of Putin, in the presidenti­al election last month has isolated the illiberal Hungarian leader, Viktor Orban, in his connivance with Russia. The EU, always querulous, seems bent on transforma­tive change.

“It’s a spectacula­r coincidenc­e of dates,” Dominique Moı¨si, a French political scientist, said of May 9. “What is more real? Russian might and Mariupol destroyed, or normal European life in Strasbourg? We will have to fight like hell to stop him, as if our very future is at stake.”

Macron has been the leading proponent of a sovereign Europe, independen­t enough to claim “strategic autonomy,” and backed by the bolstering of European military power alongside and in coordinati­on with Nato.

It appears certain that Macron will use May 9 to elaborate on this vision and to make clear the contrast between Putin’s model of war and the European peace magnet that Schuman set in motion 72 years ago.

At the same time, however, Macron believes there is no alternativ­e to negotiatio­n with Putin.

Three years ago, he invited Putin to the presidenti­al summer residence at Bre´gancon and declared that “Russia is European, very profoundly so, and we believe in this Europe that stretches from Lisbon to Vladivosto­k.”

The Ukraine war has jolted, if not undone, that idea.

“Macron knows Ukraine cannot resist without the United States,” Moı¨si said. “You cannot build Europe as a power without America because you lose half of Europeans if you try.

“The unity of the West is the key to the unity of Europe.”

Whatever Putin declares, that unity has proved effective in defending Ukraine and hurting Russia.

US Defence Secretary Lloyd Austin wants to see Russia permanentl­y weakened, “to the degree that it can’t do the kinds of things that it has done in invading Ukraine.”

This will not happen overnight, and it carries evident risks.

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 ?? Photo / AP ?? President Putin addresses the crowd in Moscow on Victory Day in 2020. The backdrop this year is very different.
Photo / AP President Putin addresses the crowd in Moscow on Victory Day in 2020. The backdrop this year is very different.

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