The European Union is becoming too obsessed with defence
Richard Youngs, University of Warwick
A new team of 26 leaders has been appointed to the European Commission, reflecting a carefully crafted balance of political ideologies and member states. Each will take on a different portfolio, from democracy to agriculture to innovation.
And for the first time, the EU will have a dedicated defence commissioner in the form of Lithuania’s Andrius Kubilius.
Commission president Ursula von der Leyen has made it clear that in her second term, the primary focus will be defence and security issues. She wants to convert the EU into a “security project” and has created the new post to build the bloc’s military capacities and cooperation.
The last EU Commission that ran from 2019 to this year declared itself “geopolitical”. Under this label, it moved the European Union towards a heightened concern with military capabilities and hard power.
Most observers see this as a positive aspect of the last commission. And there is a striking degree of supportive consensus that the military-power shift needs to be extended and deepened.
However, this increasingly unchallenged conventional wisdom has unhelpfully narrowed and distorted the EU’s foreign policy debates. The EU needs to move beyond its hazy geopolitical mantra, not lean on it even more heavily.
Much EU policy debate has become concerned principally with the question of whether the EU can defend itself more robustly and without help from the US. Analysis of European foreign policy has come overwhelmingly to take the form of calls for the EU to advance more ambitiously in its emerging ethos of militarised self-preservation and for laggardly member states to accelerate their rearmament.
While the focus on defence capabilities was overdue and remains necessary, it is becoming too dominant.
Defence players and experts get a far readier hearing in Brussels than anyone working on more liberal agendas involving human rights, development or peacebuilding. Funds flow aplenty into new programmes on defence and away from these old liberal concerns, many of which policymakers and analysts now belittle as passé.
As they ramp up their defence spending, most member states are cutting their development aid. The incoming commissioners’ mission statements are all about security and protecting European democracy from external threats. There is no mention of the work they would do to support global human rights.
If it previously tended to under-securitise its major challenges, the EU now risks over-securitising them. Well beyond the defence sphere, nearly all areas of EU policy are now infused with a more securitised ethos.
The new hard-power orthodoxy risks crowding out any critical questioning of the EU’s new enthusiasm for concepts – power politics and zero-sum geopolitical rivalry – that were until recently anathema to its very essence.
This deflects from the broader and more significant question of how the EU needs to mobilise different kinds of power to shape international trends. Contrary to what now predominates as received wisdom, governments’ increased defence budgets and EU efforts to coordinate defence investments do not in themselves provide such leverage.
Indeed, with its priority on military defence, the EU has in recent years shown less evidence of qualitatively updating and sharpening its understanding of international leverage. While European leaders ritually claim that the union has “learned the language of power”, the current policy trajectory has diverted the EU away from being more influentially geostrategic.
Outgoing high representative Josep Borrell has himself lamented that the EU risks being better at reacting to its last crisis than pre-empting wider and future trends.
The shift in EU strategic narrative rests on an unduly one-dimensional reading of global trends. Contrary to what is now a commonly accepted premise, not every international development points towards state-to-state, zero-sum, order-menacing illiberalism.
Much of it does, but the evolving order is also one of intensified societal mobilisation against autocracy and state power. It sees sub-state networks working across borders and citizens seeking problem-oriented cooperation on the ailing global commons.
Out of step
Articles, political speeches, and European policy documents routinely urge the EU to step back and accept that liberal political values are now contested. But global surveys show strong and even rising levels of citizen support for democracy and underlying social trends away from authoritarian values.
Once a self-styled power of liberal betterment, the EU increasingly seems reduced to a strategy of stemming ordinary peoples’ desire for change. It rarely meets citizens’ pleas for support in their efforts to spur political and social reform. It has become an ambiguous bystander more than proactive promulgator.
By downplaying these complexities, the EU fixation on traditional geopolitical power looks increasingly at odds with the emerging order rather than skilfully aligned with it. The EU’s now commonly repeated leitmotif of “accepting the world as it is” actually does no such thing.
It actually collides with the underlying ways in which that world is shifting socially and politically. It’s one thing for the EU to get real about defending itself but another to become a regressive power that passively moulds itself to the power-politics of illiberalism.
Far from going alone, Europe instead needs to fashion more effective interdependencies and coalitions.
As its new leaders take office, the EU needs to move beyond the now omnipresent, yet ill-defined geopolitical narrative. It needs a more precise and forward-looking vision of what it wants power, sovereignty and autonomy for.
If, for many years, the EU dangerously neglected the need for hard, defensive power it now risks moving to other extreme – giving hard power such pride of place that it detracts from the more consequential trends that will redefine the world order.
Richard Youngs, Professor of International and European Politics, University of Warwick
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
