Three-way summit
It wasn't long ago when French President Emmanuel Macron fancied himself as Europe's Vladimir Putin whisperer — somebody who could call up the Russian authoritarian, have an even-keeled conversation and talk some sense into him.
This is precisely what Macron tried to do in the lead-up to Russia's fullscale war in Ukraine. Four days before Putin gave the order, Macron, desperation in his voice, tried to test the Russian president's interest in a diplomatic arrangement that could avert all-out war.
Macron's gambit obviously didn't work. Two years of destruction and hundreds of thousands of casualties later, the French president is no longer angling to be the one European head of state who understands Putin the best. Indeed, he has undergone a complete 180-degree pivot over the last several weeks, carving out a lane for himself as Europe's most vociferous Russia hawk. The same man who once counseled Europe to avoid humiliating Russia is now giving numerous interviews on why Russia's unconditional defeat is paramount. Macron even recommended that sending European ground troops into Ukraine shouldn't be ruled out.
That proposal in particular has gotten him into trouble with his European colleagues. When Macron first unveiled it in late February, multiple European leaders came out immediately to, if not denounce it, then at least make it known that they had no interest in participating in such a scheme. German Chancellor Olaf Scholz told the press that “there will be no ground troops, no soldiers on Ukrainian soil who are sent there by European states or NATO states.” Poland, one of Ukraine's biggest supporters in Europe, expressed the same.
Macron, though, is stubborn. He recently argued that the West shouldn't set limits for itself since Putin would simply take advantage of them. Embedded deep in Macron's psyche is the concept of being as ambiguous as possible so the Russians are kept guessing. Europe's other big power, Germany, doesn't see it that way and has always drawn a line about what Berlin is — and isn't — willing to do to see Putin's invasion flame out. If Macron was trying to deliver a message to Putin that Europe was united on Ukraine policy, his remarks did the exact opposite.
Last week, Macron, Scholz and Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk came together for a threeway summit in Berlin to hash things out. There was no joint statement after the meeting ended, and while the three leaders gave remarks during a joint news appearance, they didn't allow questions. Nonetheless, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy will no doubt smile at the outcome.
France, Germany and Poland agreed to tap into the interest accumulated from Russia's seized foreign reserves to help reconstruct Ukraine and provide the Ukrainian army with more weapons. They each threw their support behind a Czech initiative to purchase ammunition for Ukraine outside the European Union bloc.
The three countries also came to a consensus on establishing a new coalition that will send more longrange rocket artillery into the Ukrainians' hands so they can continue pressuring Russia's supply lines — in occupied Ukraine and inside Russia itself.
All in all, it was a considerable success for Kyiv and went a long way toward mitigating the negative press that sprouted after Macron's comments about theoretical European troop deployments.
Yet the disputes among European powers can't be wished away. While Europe as a whole — with the exception of Hungary and perhaps Slovakia, which are led by prime ministers who are sympathetic to Russia — would like nothing more than to see the Russian army withdraw from Ukrainian territory, there's no denying that individual European states have different strategies for getting to that point. Some are more risk-averse, while others, such as France, are led by highly ambitious leaders who view themselves as de facto spokespeople for the European continent and see the war in Ukraine as a gigantic step toward making Europe a stoic geopolitical power in its own right.
Appetite for risk
Some, such as the Baltic states of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, have firsthand experience with what it means to live under Moscow's thumb and argue that it's better to fight the Russians in Ukraine than in Eastern Europe. Others, such as Germany, are perfectly content with backing Ukraine with military aid but have drawn rigid limitations around certain weapons systems, such as the long-range Taurus cruise missile, that the Ukrainians could employ against Russian cities far from the border region.
The Taurus is emblematic of the different interests at play in Europe. It is a highly sophisticated piece of lethal equipment, replete with the best sensors and GPS to make the work of enemy air defenses extremely difficult. The Ukrainians would love nothing more than to have it because the missile can hit targets with precision as far as 300 miles away.
But Scholz has repeatedly ruled out donating the system to Ukraine, claiming it would turn Germany into a combatant and increase the risk of Russian escalation. Scholz's colleagues in Europe, Macron included, scoff at that reasoning as an excuse. Yet there's no denying that Scholz's position is still the majority opinion, within the Bundestag and with the German public.
The United States has been Ukraine's primary military supporter, authorizing more than $44 billion in security aid since the war began. However, it needs to be said that what happens in Ukraine is ultimately more important to European capitals than it is to Washington. If U.S. military support dries up completely, Europe will need to find a way to close at least some of the gap.
Expect the differences between Germany and France to be exposed to more daylight.
While Europe as a whole would like nothing more than to see the Russian army withdraw from Ukrainian territory, individual European states have different strategies for getting to that point.