« on: September 27, 2006, 08:14:01 AM »
The Triple Alliance's Limits
By Peter Zeihan
French President Jacques Chirac met with Russian President Vladimir Putin in Paris on Sept. 22 before being joined the next day by German Chancellor Angela Merkel. Three years ago, the meeting of the three powers would have signaled a nightmare scenario for U.S. foreign policy.
How times change.
If anything, the meeting might have been hostile, as the logic for the trilateral alliance that once existed has failed. Though the three obviously still have much to discuss, their relations now are of little more significance than those between nations of similar standing.
The Triumvirate
In the early days of the Iraq war, a diplomatic alliance spearheaded by Chirac, former German Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder and Putin regularly met, consulted and spoke out against the United States' Iraq effort. The three formed a powerful diplomatic force rooted in friendly personal relationships and a worldview of a Paris-Berlin-Moscow axis that could stand on its own as a global power.
The primary goal of this alliance was to counter and, if possible, contain American power. Solid geopolitical reasons underpinned this strategy in Paris, Berlin and Moscow. Paris has long played second fiddle to the respective global hegemon of the day, whether Hapsburg Spain, Imperial Britain or Imperial and then Nazi Germany. Currently, that hegemon is the United States. Thus, France, in particular the France of Charles de Gaulle of which Chirac sees himself as the custodian, naturally seeks an alliance capable of countering the global power of the day.
Germany's logic under Schroeder was different. Germany had been divided and occupied by the Cold War superpowers for two generations, and had the idea beaten into it that Germany could not have a foreign policy (and certainly not a security policy) independent from or hostile to Europe. Within that limited envelope, Germany for the most part chose to be the European Union's yes-man and pocketbook.
But after Germany's 1990 reunification, Berlin began to think of itself as a country again, and under Schroeder it started developing a foreign policy within the confines of its internationally imposed envelope. If Germany would be allowed to think of itself as European, then Germany should -- in Schroeder's mind -- treat European sovereignty with the same respect and care a normal state would reserve for its own sovereignty. A partnership with Chirac's view of Europe -- which envisaged Europe as a global, if French-led, power -- was a natural fit.
Putin's logic also was different. During the Cold War, Moscow did everything under the sun to drive a wedge between Europe and the United States, believing (probably correctly) that so long as the West remained united, it could wait out and ultimately overpower the Soviet Union. A divided West, however, would be much more susceptible to Soviet economic, political and/or military power.
This view re-emerged after the heady days of the early 1990s, when it (briefly and inaccurately) seemed Washington and Moscow were going to become best pals. As American power waxed and Russian power waned, Russia under Putin was forced to confront the uncomfortable revelation that if Russia were ever going to be secure, it had to have a European friend -- and a powerful one. The logical choice was Germany, which, in addition to being the closest major European state, boasted the largest economy, and as Schroeder was discovering, a rather malleable foreign policy. Schroeder was already cozy with Chirac, so Putin made the duet a trio.
And thus the Paris-Berlin-Moscow axis was born.
Ungrateful Dissenters, Meddlesome Americans, French Relics
And it immediately ran into trouble.
The first and most critical flaw in the trilateral relationship was that, though speaking on behalf of France, Germany and Russia, made for powerful rhetoric, the trio presumed to speak as if it represented the entire swathe of European and former Soviet states. Bulgaria, the Czech Republic, Denmark, Estonia, Hungary, Italy, Latvia, Lithuania, the Netherlands, Norway, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Slovakia, Spain, Sweden, the United Kingdom, etc. in fact only have one thing in common, aside from their location on the European continent: In the past 200 years, all of them have either been at war with or occupied by France, Germany and Russia. Even for states such as Norway or Greece, which strongly opposed Washington's Iraq policies, the idea that Paris, Berlin and Moscow could speak for them without even consulting them grated. And for those that relied on U.S. military power to guarantee their independence -- particularly the "new" European states of Central Europe -- the very thought the triumvirate could speak for them was perceived as somewhere between horrifying and comic.
Beyond internal European opposition, the Americans did not feel too hot about a grouping that in theory contained allies that were in fact actively working to undermine its policies. Luckily for the United States, certain things were fairly firmly hardwired into the international system, giving Washington a great deal of inertia that the triumvirate was simply unable to dislodge. The U.S. dollar's dominance meant that even energy trade between Russia and France was dollar-denominated. And France and Germany's budget shortfalls meant neither state was willing to underwrite the expense of setting up an alternative international system. A triumvirate effort to repeal the European Union's Chinese arms embargo that would have ended most American-European defense technology sharing -- something that ensured that other European states would bring down the idea -- similarly failed to get off the ground. Such a deal would have put weapons in the hands of the authors of the Tiananmen massacre, something all German political parties -- even Schroeder's Social Democratic Party, though not Schroeder himself -- opposed.
In time, however, it was France that proved to be the alliance's undoing. In May 2004, Europhilic France -- not the Euroskeptic United Kingdom -- defeated the European constitution. Chirac's worldview -- and, by extension, Schroeder's and Putin's as well -- required a Paris able to stand on the European platform (perhaps sharing that platform with trusted partners that knew enough not to block the spotlight) and use Europe's strength to influence the globe. Without the unifying effect of a common constitution, however, the European Union remains hobbled by a decision-making structure that allows individual states to veto policies on issues of critical importance, such as how to label cheese. That national veto also exists for less-interesting topics, ranging from tax and judicial to foreign and military policies. Suddenly, the political and economic assumptions upon which the triumvirate was built had been sabotaged by none other than one of its own members.
Since that decision, the rest of the world has been readjusting. Though Paris, Berlin and Moscow were certainly at the forefront of the ideal of a world in which the United States did not dictate policy, they were hardly the only ones with a stake. Secondary powers the world over -- Brazil, China and India come to mind -- also fancied the idea of a world in which they might form regional groupings perhaps able to counter American hegemony.
But strategic planners in all of these states have long realized that a multipolar system is only possible with opposing political and economic poles. That means a multipolar world would require an economically vibrant, politically distinct and organizationally coherent Europe. When the constitution died -- and sporadic European rhetoric to the contrary, the constitution is dead -- that idea, and thus the multipolar dream, died with it too.
...continued
« Last Edit: September 27, 2006, 08:16:54 AM by Edbert »

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