Category Archives: Europe

The ancient imperative that will help us predict the future

By Dr. John C. Hulsman and Lara Palay

By 480 BC, the Pythia of Delphi already amounted to an ancient institution. Commonly known now as the Oracle of Delphi (when in fact the ‘oracles’ were the pronouncements the Pythia dispensed), the Pythia were the senior priestesses at the Temple of Apollo, the Greek God of Prophecy.

The temple, perched precariously (and beautifully, the site is still a wonder to behold) on the slope of Mount Parnassus above the Castalian Spring, had long been the center of the Greek world, going back into the mists of time.

The site may well have had religious significance as early as 1400 BC, during the forgotten days of the Mycenaeans, with devotions to Apollo being established in the 8th century BC. Delphi remained a center of worship until 395 AD, meaning that it was in use for at least 1100 years.

During this long period, the Pythia was seen as the most authoritative and important soothsayer in Greece. Pilgrims descended from all over the ancient world to visit the temple and have their questions about the future answered.

Sitting in a small, enclosed chamber at the base of the edifice, the Pythia delivered her oracles in a frenzied state, most probably imbibing the vapours rising from the clefts of Mount Parnassus.

Given the pharmacological basis for the Pythia’s special insights, it is amazing at how good a political risk record the priestesses actually had. Between 535 and 615 of the oracles have survived to the present day, of which more than half are said to be historically accurate. We can name a goodly number of modern political risk firms who would kill for that record.

There is a very simple explanation for the Pythia’s extraordinary success. Carved into the entrance of the temple to Apollo at Delphi, standing watch over the Pythia’s rites since time immemorial, was a simple Greek phrase, ‘Know Thyself’.

The aphorism is often wrongly attributed to Socrates, who brought it into fashion. It amounts to one of the oldest and best pieces of advice given to humans. The aim of both modern psychology and as well as foreign policy analysis could be put as simply as: figure out who you are.

If you know yourself, you might untangle the snarls you get into in life. You might do better interacting with others; when you understand your motives clearly, you have a shot at seeing others with clarity. You might even be able to do good in the world, rather than be a slave to selfishness and rage.

Many of the pantheon of the gormless we have visited over the past three years—from a Donald Trump who cannot understand why firing the FBI Director who is investigating him might be a bad idea, to Jean-Claude Juncker and his EU minions who fail to see that the EU is the past and not the future, to German Chancellor Angela Merkel who continually confuses caution and wisdom—stumble over this primary intellectual hurdle.

They have absolutely no idea who they are, and thus have little clue as to their place in the world. From this simple but devastating mistake, everything else follows.

Of course to know thyself takes great courage, to look accurately at person’s (or a country’s) strengths and especially weaknesses is a heroic, Homeric endeavour. But the analytical rewards of doing so are legion.

Abraham Lincoln saw that the American Civil War was about something far larger in the history of the world, just as Winston Churchill put into stirring words that Britain’s peril in 1940 was about more than the fate of a country, but more broadly the survival of decency in the face of utter barbarism.

Neither of these moments would have been remotely possible without a real understanding of where Lincoln and Churchill stood in the universe, why their moments mattered. This is turn required the magic elixir of self-knowledge.

This column is the last in a series of articles we wrote together. We looked at what countries do, and then looked at human behavior, and what science has gleaned about the workings of the human mind and brain. We combined psychology, history and current affairs in this series, because the first directive in these disciplines is to discover the root causes of human behaviour and events.

In each of these fields and for all of humankind, this boils down to the individual, and for that individual, understanding begins with the self. So for this column, giving modern-day advice about the present, it seems like a good place to end–at the beginning.

Published in City AM London, May 15, 2017

 

Apres Macron le deluge: This is the European elites’ last chance to avert disaster

You have to hand it to Louis XV of France. He may have been a mediocrity, but at least as a political risk analyst he knew the price for continual policy failure. A lowlight of his long, stagnant reign (1715-1774) was the Battle of Rossbach in 1757, where Frederick the Great of Prussia rang strategic rings around him.

Louis, upon observing the defeat of the joint Franco-Hapsburg forces, immortally replied, ‘Apres moi, le deluge,’ after me comes the flood. And in his political risk analysis, the hapless monarch was surely right; his grandson and heir, Louis XVI, was to lose his crown and his head in the French Revolution, just a generation on from Louis’s first-rate prediction.

And that is just where the European elite now finds itself, though critically unlike the prescient Louis they think they have seen off the menace to their political survival. Yet in reality, the populist flood waters are rising though the gormless commentariat is bound to get this wrong too.

I can already see the end of 2017 headlines; indeed, the false narrative is already building steam. ‘With the defeat of populists in the Netherlands, France and Germany, wise enlightened Europe (unlike its Anglo-Saxon Neanderthal cousins) has combatted populism head-on, proving itself more stable, wiser, and far more politically mature than the rest of the West. By virtue of its inherent resistance to extremism, Europe has yet again been underrated.’

I almost don’t know where to begin with this pathetic wish-fulfilment masquerading as analysis, except to say these are the very same people who over the past year were wrong about the Dutch referendum on Ukraine, wrong about Brexit, wrong about Trump, wrong about the Columbian referendum on a peace deal with the Farc rebels, and wrong about the Italian referendum. Surely at some point, their doleful analytical record should make the rest of us just a little bit leery of their grand pronouncements?

The French presidential vote is particularly instructive. Yes, as I have long said, Emmanuel Macron will be elected to the Elysee palace, and by a decisive margin. And in doing so, the odds are he will become Louis XV, the last member of a rotting elite to haplessly fail to grapple with the revolutionary forces that are swirling all around him.

Far from saving France and the EU (as much of the breathless left would have us believe), there is absolutely no empirical evidence that Macron can reform a reactionary country which would like it much better if globalisation had simply never happened.

For the most worrying thing about French politics is that presently it is only the far-right, xenophobic Front National (FN) and its champion, Marine Le Pen, who seem to understand political risk analysis.

Here is their calculation. Le Pen will get 35% plus of the vote in this Sunday’s second round of the presidential vote, double the support her father received in the second round of the 2002 presidential election. By this real-world metric, support for the FN has doubled in under a generation, as the flood waters rise to the chins of the highly gormless French elite. As such, Macron as Louis XV, is the last, best, chance for the current political order in France to save itself.

But Macron has no political party behind him. Indeed, a salient point of the 2016 election has been that, for the first time in the history of the French Fifth Republic, the two mainstream parties of the left and the right—the Socialists and the Republicans—do not have candidates in the final round of the presidential contest. The elite is hallowed out and discredited. June’s two-stage parliamentary elections will not give Macron’s En Marche movement (created just a year ago) a majority in parliament.

As such, Macron will have to (in the quite short span of five years) fundamentally reform heretofore unreformable French society, and do so without any sort of parliamentary majority. Add in the tragic reality that France will probably endure another major terrorist attack or so per year over the next five years, and the far more likely political risk outcome is that, by the end of his term, Macron will have not significantly lifted France’s economic growth numbers, or made the French feel more safe.

That is what Le Pen and the FN are betting on, and frankly, it seems the most likely outcome. She has always been playing for the next French election, not this one. Macron may surprise, he may be the reincarnation of FDR and shrewdly transform France politically and economically. But the far more likely outcome is that he will fail.

In either case, one thing is for certain. Rather than signalling Europe’s decisive victory over populism, Macron represents the continent’s last desperate gasp to avoid being Louis XVI.

Published in City AM London, May 2, 2017.

The end of the affair: US-German relations in the age of Trump

The End of the Affair: US-German relations in the age of Trump

 Introduction: The Body Language is that of an 80’s John Hughes Film

 Far too often, the press takes the garden variety meet and greet get- togethers of the world’s leaders overly seriously. Countries are–as they have been since the dawn of time—largely driven by interest calculations, rather than whether their leaders would be likely to go on a date together.

 Saying this, no one should doubt that personal chemistry does play a role at the margins as to whether states cooperate. It is simply human to be far more likely to take risks and make sacrifices for people we cannot help but like, even as it is a chore to do the same for those we simply cannot stand, even if it is in our interests to ultimately do so. That is what made the painfully awkward recent meeting at the White House between President Donald Trump and Chancellor Angela Merkel so interesting, as it was palpably obvious these two creatures would never be fast friends, whatever the setting.

 Instead, Trump’s seeming refusal to even shake Merkel’s hand (despite her gentle cajoling) made the whole socially awkward situation resemble nothing so much as one of the wonderful 1980s movies of John Hughes, sympathetically if hilariously cataloguing the all-too-real angst and social awkwardness of American teenage life. Merkel resembled the class drudge—hardworking, socially awkward, conventional—forced to sit through a study hall with the High School jock in Trump.

 The President—bombastic, unpredictable, overly impressed with himself—looked at the Chancellor as though what she was and what she personally stood for came from another planet. As Hughes’s films wisely made clear, their frostiness on one level simply confirmed that they would never be going to the High School Prom together, as it is hard to imagine more different sorts of human being.

 Of course the lack of personal chemistry between Trump and Merkel matters more than usual just now as US-German relations have dramatically altered beyond all recognition. Their lack of personal rapport means that what would have invariably have been a hard landing for the two great powers—given their very different ideological and personal priorities—is in danger of becoming a free fall, not being cushioned by their two leader’s common affinity for one another keeping the show on the road. Instead, US-German relations in the age of Trump amounts to the end of the affair, when the two countries cease being allies in the classic sense of the term.

 Ideological canyons that cannot be crossed

 Even within the western alliance formed after World War II, the US and Germany always stood at opposite ideological ends of the common NATO spectrum, with Berlin being the most Wilsonian of the major powers while the United States was the most nationalistic. Strikingly, whoever ran Germany–be it the centre-right Christian Democratic Union (CDU) under Adenauer, Kohl, and Merkel or the centre-left Social Democratic Party (SPD) of Brandt, Schmidt and Schroeder–the overall schools of thought foreign policy orientation of Germany altered very little. To this day, everyone of significance in the German foreign policy elite is some form of Wilsonian.

 Wilsonians emphasise international law and norms, the importance of international institutions such as the UN and the EU, that diplomacy (often on its own) should be the primary tool used to solve problems, that countries should almost always act on the international stage as part of larger alliances, and that the world is growing increasingly interdependent, meaning individual countries’ sovereignty matters less and less.

 The striking ideological difference between Germany and America is that while practically everyone in the former would find this view of the world simply the way things are, Wilsonianism represents only one of three basic American schools of thought impulses propelling American foreign policy forward in our new multipolar era (along with neo-conservatism, and realism). This is a huge difference and explains much of the reason for the present Berlin-Washington low-simmering crisis.

 In the new Trump administration there are presently duelling forms of realism, with not a Wilsonian in sight. Trump’s own Jacksonian nationalism has been shamefully understudied in European capitals (as has been America and its history, ideology, and culture in general) so that the new President of the United States is the rudest of ideological awakenings for Europeans in general, and Germans in particular. For it is impossible to think of two foreign policy ideologies that differ as profoundly as Jacksonianism and Wilsonianism.

 Jacksonians–named after the bellicose, populist seventh president—have long been an important, if minority view in American foreign policy thinking. Epitomised by the President’s ideological guru Steve Bannon, Jacksonians are populist (so distrustful of elites in general, let alone foreign ones), strongly nationalistic (caring solely about the American people), transactional (allies are only as useful as what they have done for America lately), and utterly relaxed with using force to specifically preserve American honour and narrow American interests.

 Jacksonians constitute a minority branch of realism that has suddenly and dramatically found its day in the sun under the new administration. As is true for Trump and Merkel personally, it is hard to imagine two creeds more diametrically opposed than the Wilsonianism of the Germans and the Jacksonianism of the new White House.

 Even more classical realists like Defence Secretary James Mattis and National Security Adviser H.R. McMaster are likely to ruffle German Wilsonian feathers. While far more accepting of the need to work with allies (frustrating as they can be) and to work in national coalitions of the willing to tackle common problems based on having specific shared interests, garden variety realists still do not make a fetish of alliances for their own sake, and demand that Europeans contribute in a way they have seldom been pushed to do so.

 Mattis’s recent declaration to Washington’s NATO allies that the US cannot care more about European security and Europeans do (given their shameful free riding off the American military due to their anaemic defence spending), is a common theme expounded upon by these more polished internationalist realists, as well as the more rough and ready Jacksonians such as Bannon. Given Germany’s woeful defence efforts (a paltry 1.19% of GDP in 2015) and stubborn refusal to do much to change this, an ideological and policy collision of some sort is practically inevitable.

 Different Policies for Different Worlds

 If the US and Germany are universes apart in terms of the efficacy of defence spending in the international arena (and the corresponding funding of their militaries), driving a stake through the heart of NATO, the same holds true for their positions on the EU, the other pivotal international institution in German eyes.

 While the success of the embattled EU is by far Berlin’s number one foreign policy priority, the Trump White House looks on Brussels with a mixture of contempt for its weakness (compared to its over-puffed sense of itself) and ideological antagonism, due to its elitist, technocratic, supranational ethos. Over time, the best that the German government can hope for from the Trump White House over this issue is indifference.

 This is particularly hard on the Germans, used to ritual American protestations of support for the European project. While for many years now these declarations of support have been little more than rhetorical, in many elite German eyes the continued benign support of the world’s only superpower matters, as it illustrates that Europe (and Germany) are not alone in their desire to make the EU the greatest of successes.

 At a deep psychological level, American support for the EU meant Europe was not being left alone, with all the historical baggage that entails. Ironically, the best Berlin can now hope for from the Trump administration is to be left alone.

 Practically, in terms of policy, this means if Brussels continues to fail to master the north-south euro crisis or the east-west schisms that have developed as a result of the refugee crisis, it is Berlin alone—with scant help from Washington—that will have to make the existential decisions about the future of the European project.

 Assuming the victory of Emmanuel Macron in the French presidential elections, he will be the last, best, chance the French elite have to right the ship of state after thirty years ignoring economic realities and the corresponding pathetic rates of French growth. Five more years of less than two percent growth, more terror attacks (tragically highly likely), and a lack of serious structural economic reform means a Le Pen presidency is a real possibility the next time, as—given those circumstances—populism would continue to be explosively on the rise in France. 

 Years of ineptitude and inaction have already taken their toll. For the first time in the history of the Fifth Republic it is highly likely this year that both the two major, established parties of the French right (the Republicans) and the left (the Socialists) will not have a candidate between them in the final round of voting in the French presidential election.

 Coupled with the fact that Macron will not have an established party behind him, betting against his chances to on his own manoeuver structural economic reform through the French parliamentary system (let alone highly traditional French society) is a reasonable wager for the Front National (FN) to make. Macron’s demise would signal the end of France as a pro-EU country, as well as the obliteration of three generations of German foreign policy.

 Germany also has its eyes nervously on its neighbour to the south as well as the west. For Italy is also too big to fail, and near the edge of a political nervous breakdown. Again, the causes are clear. Tellingly, the IMF estimates the country will not return to its pre-Lehman crisis economic size until far off 2025. As is true in France, the Italian political elite is tarred with the brush of colossal, endemic economic failure, with both the left under Renzi and the right under Berlusconi being severely discredited in the process.

 This has opened the door to the populist, euro-sceptic Five Star movement, waiting in the wings for the present—and yet another—cobbled together weak establishment Italian government to fail, proving Five Star’s point about the haplessness of the present Italian elite, as well as its subservience to Brussels (for which read Berlin) over the economic issues that truly matter.

 The Italians must hold elections by February 2018. According to today’s polling, the most likely outcome is that Five Star win a plurality of the seats in parliament, but that the establishment parties of the left and right band together—in an unnatural, unsustainable coalition—not accomplishing much of anything in terms of structural economic reform. At this point, just a few years down the road, Five Star could well find itself in power. A referendum on Italy staying in the euro would be sure to follow.

 As in France, Italian populism is powered by the obvious failure of political elites to enact structural reforms leading to a steady two percent yearly rate of growth. Short of this, in German eyes, the European project has only two or three years to go before the real existential political crisis of populism hits, calling into question the survival in its current form of the European Union itself.

 It is in this policy context of looming existential political crisis for the EU that the Trump administration’s dramatic policy about-face on Brussels must be viewed. Frankly, it could not come at a worse time for Berlin, with the whole EU edifice noticeable wobbling, due to the rise of populism, Brexit, the endemic euro crisis and the unresolved tensions arising out of the refugee crisis.

 In German eyes, if ever there is a time for American support now would seem to be the moment. Instead, the Trump White House is hostile toward a European project that America has supported for generations, just at the very moment unstinting support is called for by Atlanticist Germans such as Chancellor Merkel. Over the EU, America has morphed from steadfast ally to at best, hostile onlooker.

 Conclusion: New words and new thinking are needed to describe the world

 Words matter, and in the new multipolar era we find ourselves in, it is time we learn again to use them correctly. Simply put, the US and Germany are no longer allies in the Cold War sense of the term. No longer forced into lock-step loyalty by the unbending logic of the global bipolar system of US-Soviet domination, in our new multipolar world, it was always highly likely that US-German relations would loosen, as both sides have the relative luxury to disagree about more things more often.

 But far more than this is going on just now. Personally, ideologically and over the two basic transatlantic institutions (NATO and the EU), Berlin and Washington simply do not agree about either how the world works, or what should be done to tackle its many problems. While neither the US nor Germany are enemies, based on this undisputed reality it is hard to see how they can be called allies at the moment, either.

 And perhaps this new reality is the key to understanding how states must work together in our new shades-of-grey multipolar world. As the US-German case illustrates, far fewer countries will be outright enemies or fast friends as was the case in the simpler bygone era of 1945-1991. Instead, countries will more and more work together over specific areas and over specific issues—based on shared interests—with all but a precious few countries (for the US say, Britain as lock step ally and ISIS as implacable enemy) sitting somewhere on the continuum between friend and foe.

 The new era that evolving US-German ties illuminates requires a new vocabulary for looking at how and why and when states will actually work together. More importantly, after decades of ossified geopolitical analysis, it requires new thinking to make sense of the fascinating, perplexing world we now find ourselves in.

 Published in Aspenia Italia, April 2017.