A Dark Sign In Europe: The France-Germany Duo Is Weaker Than It’s Ever Been

-Analysis-

PARIS — For a man of my generation, construction of the European Union was above all defined by the Franco-German duo: a model of successful reconciliation that was the envy and admiration of the world.

But today, it’s not just the Franco-German alliance that has broken down. Each country is sinking into its own multiple set of crises: politically, economically and socially, if not culturally. This happens at the worst possible time, as Europe could tomorrow be caught between the increase in U.S. customs duties and the rising claims that Russia makes over our continent.

In the history of the Franco-German duo, there have been many missed opportunities. In 2017, for example, Germany’s then-Chancellor Angela Merkel didn’t seize the hand extended by French President Emmanuel Macron to her during his first speech at the Sorbonne University. But then, France likewise could have reacted more positively to German Foreign Minister Joschka Fischer’s speech at Humboldt University in May 2000 on the “ultimate objective of European integration.”

What’s new today in the relationship between France and Germany is the severity and simultaneity of their respective crises. The balance of imbalances that defined the Franco-German relationship for so long — with France being stronger geopolitically and strategically and Germany more powerful on the economic and demographic levels — has given way to an odd kind of competition between Berlin and Paris over who is more depressed.

Two unpopular leaders

Which country is mired most deeply in self-doubt? The one whose extremes seem the most dangerous, or else, more prosaically, the one where trains now experience the most delays?

In Germany, the “vaccination” against anti-Semitism after the Nazi reign couldn’t last forever. There are now neighborhoods in Berlin where “Jews are not welcome,” or more precisely “where wearing a kippah isn’t recommended,” the Federal Minister of the Interior and Community recently warned. The same warning applies to some neighborhoods on the outskirts of Paris.

What’s troubling is that the negative parallels between France and Germany have only multiplied in recent months. First, there’s the spectacular unpopularity of the countries’ respective leaders Emmanuel Macron and Olaf Scholz.

There’s also the issue of debt, as Germany, following “the bad example” of France, may be close to abandoning its legendary budgetary rigor. Some experts in Germany are even convinced that the country’s economic situation is objectively much more serious than that of France — where, for example, are the German start-ups?

Could Germany find itself alone facing its doubts, for the first time since the defeat of 1945?

It would be easy — as a first, if not sole, explanation — to say that both countries are facing exceptional challenges but neither has a leader up to the task (even if the French president was able to give the illusion that he was, at least for a while). Facing the collective challenge that global warming represents for the planet, while confronting the double challenge of the U.S. distancing and the “rapprochement” of Russia, is a lot.

Perhaps this is too much for countries that are aging, tired and full of doubts. But doesn’t this explanation miss the point?

Populist forces

In Germany, for almost 80 years, U.S. protection, Russian energy and trade with China have formed a series of “protective cushions.” Faced with the erosion of these three pillars, could Germany find itself alone facing its doubts, for the first time since the defeat of 1945?

And what about France? The renewed light of the reconstructed Notre-Dame cathedral can’t hide the growing shadows of Africa and the Middle East — and even more so the doubts over our ability to adapt to a world that expects less and less of us.

In this context, populist forces seem to be carried by the Zeitgeist in both nations. How can we slow them down? How can we prevent their progress,, which has been buoyed by Donald Trump’s triumph in the U.S., from calling into question what France and Germany were rightfully most proud of: the construction in Europe of an area of peace, prosperity and rule of law?

Not so long ago, on both sides of the Rhine, it was possible to feel at ease in a world of multiple identities: being Bavarian, German and European, or Breton, French and European. But this richness of identity implied confidence in our basic identity: German or French. That’s no longer the case today. Everything seems to be simultaneously questioned in both countries.

No Angela successor

As Angela Merkel is publishing Freedom, her memoirs translated into some 30 languages, we realize how much a personality of this magnitude (of this decency) is missing in the current political landscape. To say this doesn’t mean ignoring the limits, if not the mistakes of “Mutti” — not enough empathy towards the Greeks, too much understanding towards Russia, especially on the issue of gas supplies.

Merkel remains a model of what a high-level political leader can be.

But the first woman at the head of a German government remains a model (for both Germany and France) of what a high-level political leader can be.

The European crisis can’t be summed up by Merkel’s departure, nor as a Franco-German “double breakdown.” The first round of Romania’s presidential elections last month, unexpectedly won by a pro-Russian far-right candidate, has just provided new proof of this. But as long as France and Germany are individually and collectively “broken down,” everything will be infinitely more difficult in Europe.