War in Europe casts the continent into a frightening unknown

4 yıl önce

The era of peace in Europe ended before dawn.

Any hopes that President Vladimir Putin’s military buildup was a bluff for diplomatic concessions — a view clung to for weeks by many in Europe — disappeared in the smoke and fire of Russian missiles and advancing troops in Ukraine.

In Britain, a nation awoke to a BBC broadcast trying to Stay Calm and Carry On: “There is war in Europe. It’s 7 a.m. on the 24th of February. The headlines this morning …” French President Emmanuel Macron, who had recently sought to personally assuage Putin, severely declared “a turning point in the history of Europe.” Calling an emergency summit of NATO, Secretary-General Jens Stoltenberg, a former prime minister of Norway, declared “peace on our continent has been shattered.”

For a continent where old-school war had largely receded into history books, Moscow’s full-on assault on Ukraine seemed almost incomprehensibly anachronistic. Despite Russia’s 12-day war with Georgia in 2008 and its 2014 annexation of Crimea, fears of intervention by Moscow tilted more toward misinformation campaigns, energy-price manipulation and brazen poisonings of Russian targets on European streets.

For young Europeans, Putin was a bare-chested, horse-riding social media meme. Even among policymakers in London, Paris and Rome, he was viewed alternately as a calculating friend of the European far-right or a bullying statesman still shrewd enough to know where to stop.

Those who correctly read Putin’s incremental moves over the years as signals of what he was willing to do to rebuild a Russian sphere of influence seemed prescient. The Poles, Estonians, Latvians and Lithuanians — former Soviet bloc nations now within the European Union and NATO — were acutely aware of Russian menace, and now live even more precariously in its shadow.

But other parts of Europe appeared to need to be shaken awake. For weeks, warnings of a Russian assault from Washington and London had grown increasingly dire. But when asked at a panel last month about Putin’s intensions, Germany’s navy chief scoffed at the notion of a Russian invasion. “No, this is nonsense,” Vice Admiral Kay-Achim Schönbach said, before adding that “Putin is probably putting pressure on us because he can do it.”

Daniel Fried, a former U.S. Ambassador to Ukraine, said Thursday: “It wasn’t just the Europeans. I myself didn’t think Putin would go in, because it is such a roll of the dice. But I think a lot of Europeans are stunned, surprised, and ready to reconsider policies toward Russia. He is looking to them now for what he is. An unhinged dictator.”

Assessments of Putin’s intentions began to change as more evidence built. The continent braced for the consequences of a Russian incursion — including further soaring energy prices and flows of Ukrainian refugees that could turn into floods. Still, the extent of the Russian strike has inspired a measure of shock.

The ramifications, observers said, could refortify slipping commitments to NATO, spark ramped up defense spending, and prompt a rethink of the post-Cold War security balance in Europe, in a way that recognizes the Putin’s Russia as a more dangerous peril.

“European leaders have wanted to shove Russia under the carpet, they wanted to deal with China, covid, climate change,” said James Nixey, a Russia expert at the British think tank Chatham House. “They simply underestimated it willfully, or they thought Putin was being over egged … that the Biden administration and the United Kingdom were crying wolf. They thought it was a massive bluff.”

On a continent with a dark legacy of war, France’s Le Point news magazine on Thursday compared “Putin’s belligerent posture” to Adolf Hitler’s annexation of Austria and subsequent invasion of Poland. But for all the echoes of history — including the 1956 Soviet invasion of Hungary and the 1968 quashing of the Prague Spring — many Europeans saw what was unfolding as a unique threat from a modern Russian leader more dangerously unpredictable than many had thought.

The stakes in Bosnia and Kosovo had been lower, more localized and based on internal strife. Even Putin’s assault on Georgia came before the growth of Russia’s military into a more formidable machine. For a continent now more familiar with conflict defined as bureaucratic wrangling over Greek debt or covid restrictions, the Russian assault on Ukraine was seen as frightening leap into the unknown.

Standing outside France’s national military school in the center of Paris, 39-year old consultant Baptiste Bergès fretted over a question being asked across the continent.

“What’s going on in Putin’s mind? How much crazier can he go?” Bergès said.

Bergès embraced a notion being pushed by Macron — the creation of European army — a step E.U. nations have thus far refrained from.

“Maybe it’s time,” he said. “I find it crazy that in the 21st century, we’re still talking about war in Europe,” he said.

Even in Italy — a country famous for shrugging off turbulence — people broke from routines Thursday and spoke of the conflict triggering new fears. At a protest near the Russian embassy in Rome, university student Simona Laudicina, 19, said the idea of war in Europe had felt “anachronistic” until now. The mayor of Rome called it a day of “anguish.” Nicola Zingaretti, the leader of the region, said Europeans had been proud to enjoy such a long period of peace and prosperity. “But this came to an end tonight, with bombs falling over Ukraine,” he said.

Stefano Stefanini, Italy’s former ambassador to NATO, said he couldn’t think of a comparable moment in his “lifetime as a European.” He recounted other crises, including the fall of the Berlin Wall, the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia, and the 1962 Cuban missile crisis. None of those events had left him as aghast.

“I was born after World War II, in 1947,” he said. “In my lifetime, there’s never been a dramatic war right in the middle of Europe. The kind of [peaceful] context that we had taken for granted is no longer there.”

Karla Adam in London, Chico Harlan in Rome, Loveday Morris in Lviv, Ukraine, Rick Noack in Paris and Emily Rauhala in Brussels contributed to this report.