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Europe has ceased to be the centre of the earth. Now it will be bypassed

Europeans refuse to make an adequate contribution to the Alliance, so the Americans see less and less reason to listen to them

Bruce Anderson
Monday 20 May 2002 00:00 BST
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History is not always kind to problem solvers. Often, it rewards their efforts by setting them new and harder questions. This is something that the Europeans are about to discover.

Over the past three decades, few if any European leaders shared Margaret Thatcher's enthusiasm for the Cold War. They seldom saw any point in challenging the legitimacy of the Soviets. Europe might remain divided; it could still be stable. Indeed, many Europeans believed that the principal threat to this stability did not arise from the Russians' desire to export communist ideology, but from the Americans' ideological impatience.

At least in private – and sometimes in public – European politicians wanted the Americans to be less intransigent towards Russia. That wish has now been granted. As Jack Straw has put it, the latest round of US/Nato/Russian negotiations marks the funeral of the Cold War. The final obsequies will be conducted in Moscow this week by Presidents Bush and Putin. As a result of all this, however, the Europeans will rapidly discover that it can be unnerving to be granted one's desires. With the end of the Cold War, Europe will finally cease to be the centre of the earth.

For 60 years, European statesmen fought a successful campaign to keep their continent at the forefront of American diplomacy. There was nothing in previous US history or in the character of its people and institutions to suggest that the Americans would readily accept an open-ended, costly and potentially lethal commitment to guarantee the security of Western Europe. Yet they did, so the good times rolled on and Europe's primacy was assured. In future, that will no longer be true. The geo-political centre of gravity has shifted, irrevocably.

The events of 11 September 2001 have influenced this as they have influenced everything in the United States; it will become a key date in American history. The attack on the US mainland plus the twin threats of terrorism and asymmetric warfare necessitated a strategic reassessment. As regards US European diplomacy however, 9/11 was only a catalyst. Even before September, an intellectual revolution was taking place in American foreign policy: a fundamental realightenment of the US's relations with Russia.

That process began as soon as George Bush took office, for a number of reasons. The first was the influence of Condoleezza Rice, a Russian expert, who convinced the new President that Russia really had changed and was moving towards democracy and the rule of law. The second was the influence of Vladimir Putin. His personal relations with George Bush rapidly took on a genuine warmth, as opposed to the supposed warmth of the Reagan/Gorbachev and Thatcher/Gorbachev era.

Ronald Reagan's and Margaret Thatcher's dealings with Mr Gorbachev were much more cautious and much more calculating than the popular version would suggest. During one of Mr Reagan's meetings with Mr Gorbachev, the US President pressed the Russian to allow freedom of movement. "You have fences to keep your Mexicans out'' replied Mr Gorbachev: "Why can't I have fences to keep my people in?'' Mr Reagan then said sotto voce to his interpreter: "He just doesn't get it, does he?''

Ronald Reagan got it. He understood that by encouraging Mr Gorbachev's willingness to change, he could help to win the Cold War and destroy the Soviet Union. As a result of that great President's world historical triumphs, Mr Bush can be truly open in his dealings with Mr Putin. These days, there is much less need for covert calculation – and there is another factor.

A major historical reassessment has taken place in Washington. Its first public manifestation occurred in the latest issue of the National Interest magazine, in an article entitled "Russia's Higher Police''. The revisionists have concentrated on one of the points which Americans found most troubling about Mr Putin: his KGB past. They have concluded that far from being a liability, this background was an asset and that he is the product of an honourable Russian tradition: the higher police.

That term goes back to the reign of Tsar Nicholas I. That autocrat did not respond to the Decembrist insurrection merely by executing or exiling its leaders. He set up a new command centre which was instructed to study the Russian condition. It did so, and came up with bold conclusions, telling the tsar that "all Russia impatiently awaits changes'' and that these higher policeman "were convinced of the necessity... of the liberation of the serfs.''

Policemen cannot replace politics. The higher police's attempts to reform Russia and to keep the tsars on their thrones were unavailing. But the belief that Russia can only be governed by the effective use of strong central authority has persisted. Mr Putin is its latest exponent, and unlike his 19th century predecessors, he is not operating in a political vacuum. As his effort are buttressed by burgeoning democracy and by the rapid growth of civil society, they might succeed.

The Americans are prepared to wish him well. Despite anxieties over links with Iran, they no longer see any reason to quarrel with Russia. But the new American attitude is not based solely on negatives. The Bush administration is discovering that in terms of world view, it has more in common with the Russians than with any of the Europeans, Britain excepted.

After 9/11, the United States became a wary superpower. American policy makers were suddenly aware of the contrast between unlimited military might and an elusive threat. Mr Putin, a naturally wary man, had already learned that lesson. Russia may not command military resources on an American scale, but its arsenal is formidable. Yet it has proved inadequate to cope with the terrorist threat in Chechnya, a subject which obsesses Vladimir Putin. He believes in the domino theory; he fears that if the Russian position in Chechnya were to collapse, the entire southern flank would be menaced by instability and chaos. That is why he wishes to spend less money on maintaining an excessive nuclear capability and more on reliable conventional forces.

The American sympathise with this. As they see it, they and Russians share a basic insight: that they are living in a dangerous world. In contrast, Europeans refuse either to acknowledge the dangers or – Britain again excepted – to make an adequate military contribution to the Alliance. So the Americans see less and less point in that alliance: less and less reason to listen to what the Europeans have to say.

This may not matter too much; Nato has done its work. The Russian threat which brought it into being has now disappeared, probably for good. But future generations of European foreign ministers are not going to enjoy it when the Americans and the Russians do deals over their heads, and when it becomes apparent that America's most important special relationship is the Russian one.

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