The Downgrading of France in the World - Exclusive

Res Publica Colloquium, March 21, 2024

Thank you for your warm welcome, dear Marie-Françoise.

I am happy to see you again this evening and also happy to be part of this roundtable with my old friend Thierry de Montbrial, with whom I spent the first nine years at IFRI. Thierry has turned it into a research institution of the utmost importance for our country, recognized as such globally. I am also pleased to see another friend, Renaud Girard, whose analyses in Le Figaro I always enjoy reading.

The presentation that will follow is a kind of summary, by definition very incomplete, of a part of my latest book entitled L'Engrenage which I will publish at the beginning of autumn. This book has occupied me for the past three years, in truth since the beginning of the Ukrainian affair. Due to time constraints, I am aware that I am raising many questions here without necessarily being able to provide all the answers: therefore, I refer you to my work. Nevertheless, I hope that by structuring certain ideas, we can all move forward together.

I will start, if you don't mind, as we do in the National Assembly, with a procedural matter, namely by posing a series of preliminary questions.

Preliminary questions that very few of our political leaders wish to raise, and unfortunately, very few journalists and other commentators do either. This also applies to many of the military and diplomats, who I say this with all due respect, are tasked with executing our foreign policy daily.

The preliminary question regarding France's foreign policy is, however, evident. To be credible and thus heard internationally, and even more so to be respected or feared, shouldn't we begin by establishing credibility internally?

How can we be credible and heard internationally when our country currently accumulates over 3,000 billion euros in debt, and this debt is held by pension funds or investment funds from China, Arab nations, or the United States? This is markedly different from Japanese debt, which, although immense (266% of GDP), is owned by the Japanese themselves. As for the Americans, whose debt is proportionally comparable to ours (around 35 trillion dollars and 110% of GDP), they possess the 'exorbitant' privilege, as General De Gaulle termed it, of printing their own currency.

How can we be credible in a country that has been systemically unable to present a balanced budget for the past 50 years, year after year? No government, no company, no household in the world enjoys this extraordinary 'privilege.' This ongoing situation forces us to live in fear of being caught by the 'gendarmes,' the rating agencies. The reality is that the fate of France is determined, if not in the Stock Exchange, then at least in the offices of these agencies due to our leaders' and our people's tendency to neglect financial management. The 'whatever it costs' policy, the checkbook policy, and the counter policy are, unfortunately, the new lifelines of a France that becomes poorer year after year and loses control over its destiny.

How can we also be credible when, last June, for several consecutive nights, 500 cities and towns in France were attacked, vandalized, and looted, with hundreds of public buildings set ablaze, without any repercussions for the perpetrators? There was no serious explanation from the political authorities regarding the causes of this unprecedented disaster, other than attributing it to young people—French citizens!—who were 'bored' due to the early closure of schools.

How can we also be credible when half a million people enter France each year as if it were a giant squat: 323,260 first residence permits granted in 2023, 170,000 asylum applications, most of which are unfounded, adding to the 400,000 undocumented migrants reportedly already present in our territory? How can we fail to see that all this significantly impacts our finances, the social balance in our cities, our daily security, and more gravely, the very identity of the nation? Yet, no one can ask such questions without being immediately labeled as far-right! These questions are fundamental. How can one respect a country that does not even control its borders?

Isn't it somewhat indecent under these conditions to discuss the war in Ukraine and the Gaza conflict, promising billions we don't have and will have to borrow, or proposing ceasefires without being able to influence the situation? Or to lecture Lebanon on democracy while we ourselves are facing the creeping Lebanese-like fragmentation in many of our own neighborhoods, controlled by a mix of Islamist groups and massive drug trafficking (5 billion euros and 300,000 'jobs')? When significant parts of our economy are influenced by decisions made elsewhere, such as agriculture and our foreign trade controlled by Brussels, or when other aspects of our common life that depend on us, like hospitals, work, schools, and justice, exhibit glaring flaws that everyone can observe daily.

Do we realize that a simple civil judicial case takes eight years to resolve? Do we know that after an accident, one can end up waiting 14 hours on the floor in an emergency room? That 5,000 medications are out of stock in our pharmacies, jeopardizing long-term treatments? Are we aware that we are the only permanent member of the UN Security Council incapable of producing a COVID vaccine?

All these questions confront our country and highlight the enormous scale of the recovery that must be accomplished. These preliminary questions are closely tied to what I must call the actual collapse of our foreign policy. Indeed, foreign policy is nothing more than the projection of a nation's will onto others, based on internal strength and cohesion.

From this perspective, it is perhaps necessary to look back to the end of the Fourth Republic to grasp both the severity and the rapidity of the decline we are experiencing today on the international stage. Seventy years ago, our country emerged deeply weakened from the war and the Occupation. It was entangled in unwinnable colonial wars in Indochina and Algeria, and vilified at the UN—including by our American friends, who were then advocates of decolonization. We were humiliated at Suez and threatened with nuclear war by Bulganin. In Europe, we had failed to build a political defense union, voting against the EDC ourselves in the summer of 1954, thus allowing Germany to be rearmed within NATO under American control.

The only positive point at the end of the waning Fourth Republic was the launch of the secret nuclear program that would become our Force de frappe and the progression towards the Treaty of Rome, which General De Gaulle would endorse upon taking power in 1958. Indeed, we had to wait for the General to see France rise again and regain its place in the world. But that golden age is behind us. Today, we find ourselves on a kind of slide where each mistake or fault seems to immediately lead to the next in a disheartening and seemingly irreversible manner. All this amid an avalanche of out-of-touch speeches, slogans, and grand hotel summits in the gilded halls of the Republic or Versailles with anglophone phrases like 'Make Our Planet Great Again,' 'Paris Peace Forum,' 'Choose France,' and 'Start-up Nation,' among others. Not to mention a frenzy of memorial commemorations, where the cult of a glorious past is supposed to erase the evident decline of the country.

The reality, however, is far from glorious. From the Anglo-Saxon deceit behind our backs in the Australian submarine affair in the autumn of 2021, orchestrated by our British friends with the help of the Australians and naturally the Americans, to France's expulsion from its African sphere of influence, this time with the complicity of the Russians who skillfully exploited many of our mistakes. Not to mention the vacillations in Ukraine and the equally disconcerting ones at the beginning of the Gaza crisis. Nor should we overlook the persistent weakening of our voice in Brussels on virtually every issue: environment, agriculture, trade, energy.

The presidency of the current president resembles a pathetic decline, where from one crisis to another, from one issue to the next, the rank of France, so dear to General De Gaulle, now seems confined to the storehouse of our historical memories. Why this succession of setbacks? Why does it seem that France is no longer taken seriously by our allies, disrespected or dismissed by our adversaries, and unable to influence situations despite often pursuing just and coherent goals: stopping Chinese influence in the Indo-Pacific region, fighting jihadism in Africa, countering Iranian influence in Lebanon, or trying to halt the wars in Ukraine and Gaza?

The world has evidently entered a phase of normalized, sometimes extreme, violence, coinciding with a shift in the global balance of power, weakening international institutions and the normative order established in 1945 dominated by Western powers. Are we thus condemned to see the voice of medium powers like France fade away? Are we witnessing a sort of 'Yalta 2.0' between Chinese, Russian, and American interests, where Europe will merely serve as prey or quarry?

Or are we also—perhaps primarily—reliving what we have experienced during other pivotal periods of history? I refer you to André Suarès' book before the war ('Views on Europe' 1936) and Marc Bloch's writings during the Debacle. Both described the inability of our elites to face reality, to prepare our country for challenges, and to make long-term but necessary decisions. Let us be clear: no supposed law of history condemns our old country, France, which has endured numerous ordeals throughout its millennial history, to such a fate. Instead, it is the inability of the political class in France—I believe I know what I am talking about—to anticipate global shifts and to prepare the country for them that is at fault.

From this viewpoint, if we want to think about the future of France's policy and how to break free from its current decline, it is useful to trace the main stages since at least the beginning of the Fifth Republic. Two distinct phases emerge clearly. The first phase spans from 1958 to 1991, from De Gaulle to Mitterrand, until the end of the Cold War and the collapse of the USSR. I call these the '35 Glorious Years,' during which De Gaulle initiated a formidable industrial, energy (56 nuclear plants built from 1973 onwards), and military rearmament (Mirage IV planes equipped with the AN 11 bomb of 60 kt could reach Moscow in 1964), which enabled him to start the policy of 'détente' two years later. Not to mention the major Arab policy launched in 1967, the lessons given to the Americans in Vietnam, and the policy towards the Third World in Mexico.

De Gaulle was the first to recognize the People's Republic of China sixty years ago; he made France significant within the bipolar system, lifting our country out of decolonization, then thoroughly rebuilding and rearming it. This was the France of General De Gaulle. Mitterrand attempted to follow this policy after Pompidou and Giscard. I recall his crucial role during the Euromissile crisis between 1981 and 1983, when the Soviets tried their last card by exploiting German public fears regarding the deployment of American Pershing missiles against Soviet SS-20s. Giscard had chosen to remain neutral at the start of the crisis in 1979.

As a young researcher at IFRI at the time, I remember passionately debating on the front page of Le Monde against Gabriel Robin, then Diplomatic Advisor to VGE. Mitterrand prevailed with his famous slogan before the Bundestag: 'The missiles are in the East, the pacifists in the West.' The second phase is much more complicated, beginning in 1991-1992 and lasting until February 23, 2022, the eve of the Russian invasion of Ukraine.

During what I call the '30 miserable years' or the '30 lazy years,' as you prefer, France has failed on almost every issue. We started by dismantling our industry on Larry Summers' advice, with 'captains of industry' like Serge Tchuruk dreaming of a 'France without factories.' They achieved it. We continued with the excellent Laurent Fabius and his famous 'peace dividends.' We indeed saved several hundred billion euros taken from our military, which we foolishly spent on the bottomless pit of social and welfare expenditures (a third of our GDP in 2022).

We also dismantled our remarkably admired energy program. Until recently (and Macron's reversal in favor of nuclear energy), no decisions were made under Mitterrand and his successors to revive and develop this nuclear program, which stagnated under the pressure of ecologists. I was beside François Fillon the evening when, after Fukushima, Mrs. Merkel said to him: 'François, I am stopping nuclear energy on Monday... Naturally, you will close Fessenheim?' Fillon remained silent. 'But Madam Chancellor, we are still sovereign,' I replied. And we closed Fessenheim, a perfectly functioning plant. All this to allow Germany to indulge in total dependence on cheap Russian gas and to exit nuclear power to please the Greens. And we followed, even though we were supposed to have a common policy towards Russia!

Is it any wonder that one side sold Mistrals to Putin while the other built gas pipelines: Nord Stream I, then II, the latter after the annexation of Crimea? Until the last moment, the Chancellor wanted to save Nord Stream II. This was not due to a subtle plot orchestrated by the KGB, as some might think. The truth is simple: the entire German political class and all the unions supported cheap Russian gas, the very basis of Germany's economic growth and political stability, which we allowed and suffered. It was a triple dependency: on Russian gas, on German car exports to China in exchange for fully opening European borders to Chinese imports, complemented by a third pillar: American protection. Meanwhile, we disarmed and deindustrialized.

This French submissiveness originates from the significant failure during the German reunification in 1989-90, with Mitterrand visiting East Berlin until the last minute, six weeks after the fall of the wall! The Germans still remember this... But afterward, it was necessary to re-align, trying to tightly bind Germany within Europe with the 2+4 Treaty first, then with Maastricht, which enshrined France's acceptance (or submission) to the rules set in Berlin. Without devaluation but also without an economic government, a government advocated at the time by Jean-Pierre Chevènement and Philippe Séguin...

This is where the rise of French Europeanism began, accompanied by a suite of ready-made slogans and illusions: 'Europe is France magnified!'; 'Europe is the ultimate horizon and indispensable'; 'France is too small for the world's big affairs'; 'Sovereignty can only be conceived at the European level,' etc. Despite the French people's rejection of the Lisbon Treaty 'constitution,' France found itself suddenly isolated and marginalized. Nicolas Sarkozy had to accept it after a so-called text modification through parliamentary ratification. The more or less conscious choice of Europeanism, abandoning any notion of national sovereignty, begins in those years...

But for this European bet to have worked, France would have had to remain on par with Germany. However, whether industrially, economically, or financially, we have completely fallen behind our neighbor over the years. French debt, as a percentage of GDP, is now twice that of Germany. The French trade deficit (exceeding 100 billion annually) contrasts with a German surplus of over 200 billion! The level of industry in Germany is double that of France. Consequently, Germany increasingly makes its own choices and 'lives its life,' even on issues we believed we controlled: Airbus, space, defense.

I hear about military cooperation programs launched over the past two and a half years of the Ukraine war. But what are we really talking about: a joint tank project, an eternal mirage mentioned 70 years ago by Franz Josef Strauss and Jacques Chaban-Delmas that has never materialized? Or a future combat aircraft project, even as the Germans have just bought the American F-35? Or a continental air defense initiative launched by Berlin with 18 other partners but excluding France?

The truth is that we are becoming the sick man of Europe, and it is starting to show. The truth is that we have fallen behind the pivotal country, which has expanded, and we no longer count for much in the European machinery. As a former Minister of European Affairs, I can tell you that France no longer has the necessary levers of power, neither in the European Parliament, where the entire apparatus is controlled by the Germans, nor in the Council, whose Secretariat is dominated by Berlin, and even less so in the Commission, led by a well-known president. Not to mention the working groups where key decisions are made, such as industrial standards and specifications for electric vehicles, where we are often not even represented.

And if we look towards Washington, the same conclusions are unfortunately evident concerning our relations with the United States. Never under De Gaulle would the current closeness, even intimacy, between France and the United States have been imaginable, particularly in military cooperation. Jean-Yves Le Drian once declared at the end of François Hollande's term, borrowing fighter pilot jargon: 'With the Americans in Africa, we are the leader, and in Europe, we are the wingman.' An expression that, one must agree, sounds rather strange today.

But even though we have been absolutely loyal—even docile—on almost all issues, including the most questionable ones, I would like to know where we have been repaid in kind, even a little. On submarines? On GAFAM? On the Cloud Act? Or on the extraterritoriality of American laws, which I highlighted in a report to the National Assembly in 2016, showing how this practice has cost us nearly 15 to 20 billion euros in various penalties paid to the U.S. Treasury (not only the sale of Thomson at a loss to General Electric). The latest issue concerns the Inflation Reduction Act of 2022 (IRA), a law passed after the start of the Ukraine war, which effectively siphons off French (and European) companies to the U.S. to create new industrial establishments, relocating jobs in the process. This system is further encouraged by the explosion of energy costs in Europe following the Ukraine war. Besides the subsidies and tax advantages provided by the IRA, our companies find energy in the U.S. four times cheaper. Ironically, this system, now in full swing, was implemented by the Democrat Biden in the name of the alliance with Europe.

Given this rapid overview of the past 30 years, the question is: what now? What could be the main lines of a policy that will finally get us out of this slide towards irrelevance? Any effort to forecast France's foreign policy, as Thierry de Montbrial rightly said before me, must now take the Ukraine war as its starting point. The Ukraine war is less significant in itself than for its massive consequences on the global power structure. This war is changing the power dynamics not only in Europe but globally. It acts as an accelerator of profound tectonic shifts, including economic and demographic, paving the way for a post-Western world. Strategically, this war has forged a formidable alliance between Russia, China, Iran, and North Korea—all nuclear powers and all determined to end Western dominance: our Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, confronting us in various interconnected theaters: Europe, the Middle East, Asia

This spring of 2024, the problem posed by this war is more complex than ever. On the battlefield, the Ukrainian army is exhausted. It struggles to renew its ranks due to internal issues: the Ukrainian government is unable to enact the necessary conscription laws, even though over 600,000 Ukrainians of military age reside abroad. Additionally, the Ukrainian army has been deprived of American weapons and ammunition for six months and is suffering from the bloody attrition imposed by Russia, especially in the Kharkiv region.

It is Vladimir Putin, just re-elected with 87% of the vote after 25 years in power, who now holds the military and political initiative in the conflict. On the other hand, a true panic is sweeping through European capitals following the failure of the Ukrainian offensive in the spring of 2023 and especially after the interruption of American funding from October 2023 to May 2024. Added to this is the fear that Trump might be elected on November 5 and negotiate a peace agreement with Putin, sacrificing Ukraine, or even withdraw from the European theater and close NATO’s doors, as he has threatened.

All this creates an extremely anxiety-inducing situation. Several countries, particularly Poland, Norway, and the Baltic states, fear that once Putin defeats Ukraine, he will directly target them. In this very worrying context, the President of the French Republic, during the impromptu summit at the Élysée on February 26 aimed at helping Ukraine, deliberately broke the American-imposed taboo from the beginning of the conflict: 'No boots on the ground.' No Western soldiers on Ukrainian soil, with Biden himself explaining that he wanted 'to avoid triggering a third world war.

But this self-imposed limit is no longer acceptable to Emmanuel Macron. Since Putin does not observe any limits, Macron concludes that we should not have any either and should not allow Putin to have the initiative. Without succumbing in advance to what he calls the 'spirit of defeat,' note that the president’s thinking has evolved dramatically. Initially, he advocated 'not humiliating Russia'; later, in Bratislava in 2023, he aligned with the countries most militant against Russia, adopting a much harsher rhetoric towards Moscow and even contemplating sending French military forces to Ukrainian soil. On March 14, addressing the French people, he elaborated: 'This war constitutes an existential threat to Europe and to France. We must be prepared, and we will be prepared. If we let Ukraine lose this war, then certainly Russia will threaten Moldova, Romania, Poland, and our security will be at stake there.

To complete this picture, General Schill, Chief of Staff of the Army, clarified in Le Monde two days later that France would be ready to deploy 20,000 troops to the field within two months and, if necessary, take command of a combined force with two other allied divisions. Since then, faced with American and German reluctance, the debate has somewhat shifted, and today it is about sending 'instructors' to Ukraine.

In light of the statements made by several government members, who are also campaigning for the European elections, anyone daring to question this analysis is immediately compared to Pétain or, worse, labeled as 'cowardly' or 'Putin’s stooge,' as I heard from the Prime Minister addressing Ms. Le Pen in the National Assembly. Yet, I dare to defy this taboo and reflect on the questions these latest developments raise.

Four questions will determine our foreign policy in the coming years: How to manage the short-term risks of escalation (since in case of escalation, the question of foreign policy would no longer arise); secondly, how to think about the end of the war: what negotiation with what diplomatic compromise and what role could France play; thirdly, how to imagine the post-war configuration and what this will mean for the future of the European Union in particular; and finally, but I fear I will not have time to address this last point, what will be the impact of this war on the Global South and what would then be the implications for our foreign policy regarding China, our African policy, or our relations with the Arab world. On all these points, I refer you to my forthcoming book.

Let's try, however, to quickly address the first three points. The first one is particularly sensitive. We must be aware that the deployment of ground forces would be equivalent to a state of co-belligerence, that is to say, a state of war with Russia. This would be the opposite of the 'strategic ambiguity' claimed by the president. Such a situation would be perfectly clear: our soldiers, alongside those of other European allies possibly in coalition with us, would face Russian soldiers or strikes directly; and our aircraft protecting them would immediately confront the Russian air force.

In these conditions, at least five questions arise and deserve careful consideration before making such a decision. What would be the objective of the deployment? Training? Support? Combat? Securing a sector on the front line? And with what final goal? What is meant by 'defeating Russia'? For how long, knowing that our limited resources in personnel and ammunition set a clear limit: do we have an idea of the scale? We are talking about deploying 20,000 men on a 1,000 km front facing 1 million soldiers, 500,000 on each side!

What would be the risk of escalation involving tactical nuclear weapons, knowing that all conflicts over the past 70 years have carefully avoided putting the conventional forces of nuclear powers directly against each other precisely because no one, I repeat, no one knows what would happen in such a case. No one can claim to control the escalation. What would happen if a conventional strike, or even a tactical nuclear weapon, were used against our forces? Retaliate and risk further escalation? Or abstain and thus cement the enemy's victory? Escalation or capitulation?

The Russian nuclear doctrine of 'escalation for de-escalation' closely resembles our former French doctrine from the Cold War era when we had short- and medium-range tactical missiles. What would happen if the Russians resorted to such an extreme if things went badly for them on the battlefield? The dilemma would then be: either abstain from retaliation, thereby ensuring the Russians' victory and the nullification of deterrence, or escalate in turn. But in this case, would we truly be ready to risk the annihilation of France and the European continent?

Finally, there is a legal question, which is not without political importance given the stakes of a possible intervention in Ukraine. According to our Constitution (Article 35), the deployment of our armed forces abroad without a declaration of war can be decided by 'the Government,' in fact by the President alone, with the sole obligation of informing Parliament three days later—a notification that is not followed by any vote. It is only when the duration of the intervention exceeds four months that Parliament can authorize its continuation. Such a mechanism could be conceivable and has been used many times, including by the former Minister of Defense present here, during our numerous military interventions in Africa. But given the risks of generalized war, including nuclear war, how would this apply to Ukraine?

In practice, this mechanism is politically untenable. Conversely, a formal declaration of war by Parliament, as stipulated in the first paragraph of the same Article 35, is also excluded since the President excludes any intention of entering into a war against Russia. Thus, no declaration of war... but the risk of a deadly escalation that could be decided by a single person. Curiously, I have not heard any parliamentarian raise this question. It is a pity: perhaps we should take a greater interest in our Constitution.

Let us move on to the second major question: negotiation. I am personally convinced—and I wrote this on the eve of the conflict—that this war could have been avoided. The last Russian initiative on December 17, 2021, which the West received as a sort of ultimatum and therefore ignored, consisted of two documents, one addressed to the United States and the other to NATO. Russia was once again raising the issue of Ukraine's neutrality (its constant refrain since the NATO summit in Bucharest in 2008) coupled with an arms limitation agreement on its western border. In December 2021, these proposals were not considered, and I do not recall any official French position.

A little later, in February-March 2022, three weeks after the war began, the Russians started to retreat from Kyiv, and seven or eight negotiation sessions took place between Ukrainians and Russians, first in Belarus and then in Antalya and Istanbul under Turkish mediation. These sessions resulted in a document of about fifteen points, once again providing for a neutral status for Ukraine with security guarantees from several external powers, the possibility for Ukraine to join the European Union, and a transitional arrangement for Crimea. However, the atrocities committed in Bucha and the progress of the Ukrainian army led the Ukrainians to break off the negotiations.

It seems that Boris Johnson played a significant role in this change in the Ukrainian position (though he denies it today) when he visited Kyiv in April 2022. Again, I have no official information about France's stance on these negotiations. Historians will shed light on this. What is clear is that I do not recall a single instance where the British or Americans declared readiness to support a neutral status for Ukraine in exchange for military aid or security guarantees. Moreover, no one on the Western side sought to condition military aid to Ukraine on the success of these negotiations.

On the contrary, the United States and NATO maintained the same line, which has become the mantra of Western capitals: we will support Ukraine 'as long as it takes.' But this doctrine is actually quite hypocritical because, in reality, everyone understood—and Thierry de Montbrial reiterated it earlier—that it is not Kyiv that will decide the end of the war, but Washington, the President of the United States, and of course, the Congress, which votes or does not vote on military aid to Ukraine. Much will therefore depend on the continuation of the election campaign and the American election.

Having worked with Ukraine since the first Orange Revolution of 2003 and having been in Maidan during those two key moments: the election of Yushchenko and then, 10 years later, the ousting of Yanukovych in 2014, I know—unlike those who have only known Ukraine through recent war tourism—that we must seek a negotiated solution. Indeed, if the situation worsens on the ground and if we witness a significant Russian advance this spring, particularly around Kharkiv or even Odessa, with the Russians managing to regain control of the entire northern shore of the Black Sea, the Ukrainians would find themselves in a much more complex negotiating position than today.

The real issue is as follows: The Russian army does not have the means to invade the whole of Ukraine, let alone occupy it permanently. But the Ukrainian army also lacks the necessary forces to reclaim the 20% of its territory occupied by the Russians. Unless NATO fully engages on the battlefield alongside Ukraine, the latter will not be able to achieve its leaders' war goal of driving the Russians out to the 1991 borders by military means. This was acknowledged as early as the beginning of 2023 by General Milley, then the U.S. Chief of Staff. I have consistently stated this over the past two years.

Rather than prolonging the conflict 'as long as it takes' and continuing to aid Ukraine, perhaps it is time to finally define the goal of this war: not to avoid Ukraine losing, but to ensure it does not lose too much. This brings us to the third and even more complex point. Every war has an end, whether it be a peace agreement based on defeat or capitulation, or a ceasefire agreement that can last. We have several examples of such lasting ceasefire agreements: in Korea, in Cyprus, or even in Israel, where the northern border with Lebanon and the border with Syria are not definitively settled.

Two certainties—and many uncertainties—will shape the future security architecture of Europe in the post-war period. As long as Putin remains in power—and he intends to stay for another twelve years—Russia will not change its attitude towards us. They now see us as a quasi-existential adversary, certainly in terms of civilization. The Russians, abandoning their disappointed European dream (this is how they view the last thirty post-Soviet years), have pivoted towards Asia. The old Eurasian myth has returned. Before Putin's rise to power in 1999, Evgeny Primakov was the architect, promoting the idea of a tripartite agreement among the world's largest country, Russia, the most populous country, China, and the most robust Muslim country, Iran. This revisionist, authoritarian alliance has now formed with the Ukraine war and stands against us. Barring a peace agreement with Trump that miraculously reconciles with the West by lifting all sanctions against Moscow, which seems highly unlikely, it is hard to see how Russia would abandon this tripartite alliance.

The second certainty is that a half-defeated Ukraine, reduced to a rump state, will remain fiercely anti-Russian. It will do everything to reclaim its lost territories. We Europeans will thus face a country that is economically weakened, politically shattered, highly unstable, still afflicted by the same pre-war ailments—corruption and weak rule of law—and now heavily militarized. Between a deep, lasting rift with Russia, which sees itself as the leader of the post-Western world, and a deeply troubled Ukraine, stabilizing this central European region between Germany and Russia will once again become the major geopolitical issue, determining Europe's destiny in the coming decades (along with the immigration issue).

Stabilizing and pacifying this complex area between Russia and Germany will inevitably confront us with several significant unknowns. The first major unknown concerns the role of the United States. Demographically, economically, and strategically, the America of 2024 is vastly different from the America of 1945. Its European roots belong to another world. Now, it is primarily focused on its severe domestic problems: a weakened democracy marked by extreme political polarization, the persistent issue of race, drug-related deaths (100,000 per year), violence, the omnipresence of firearms (50,000 deaths per year), and immigration from Mexico (2 million in 2023). Mexico is taking a sort of historical revenge. And as far as it still pays attention to the world, Biden's or Trump's America has only one obsession: China, its sole systemic rival, and to a lesser extent, the Middle East.

As Senator David Vince, very close to Trump, said in Munich last February: 'In the coming years, America will not be able to manage Asia, the Middle East, and Europe simultaneously. Therefore, the Europeans will have to take care of themselves and handle Ukraine.' This is how the division of roles is envisaged from the American perspective. Consequently, all those who still dream (and they are the majority among us and in Europe) of a solution involving Ukraine's entry into NATO are mistaken. The Americans will stick to the Vilnius formula: as long as there is a risk of direct confrontation with Russia, Ukraine will remain outside the Alliance and will have to settle for a series of bilateral security agreements with Western countries, as France has already done.

Then there is the other question: if NATO is not an option, can the European Union take charge of post-war Ukraine, not only its reconstruction (estimated at 700 billion euros) but also its security based on Article 42-7 of the Treaty of Lisbon—the equivalent of Article 5 of NATO? Once again, the issue of will and means arises. And I would say that the answer is in the question: two and a half years after the outbreak of a major conflict near us, and despite numerous robust speeches about 'European Defense' and the transition to a 'war economy,' it is evident that the major European countries have not made the necessary efforts. Neither a war economy nor a significant increase in resources has begun. At best, we have stopped the hemorrhaging of military credits without having started a real rearmament.

In the absence of state action, the Commission does what it knows best: seeking to increase its power. The reasoning seems unassailable: 'Europe means peace,' as the Brussels mantra goes, so 'expand Europe to expand peace!' The latest initiative from Ursula von der Leyen is nothing less than a federalized Europe of 40 states, including three war zones: Ukraine, Bosnia, and Georgia. This suits the German Chancellor, who agrees with a Europe of 36 states modeled on the German federal system. The question remains whether this model serves France's interests.

At this stage, it is difficult to imagine how NATO or the European Union will be able to take charge of Ukraine and the stabilization of Central Europe. Fundamental questions arise, starting with the very survival of the European Union if the Americans withdraw, given that American security has been the cornerstone of European construction since the 1950s. And what about the means: can Europe finance both its energy transition (500 billion euros) and its rearmament (another 500 billion euros)?

I fear that after the Ukraine war, we will once again see the return of the German question in Europe along with the resurgence of nuclear weapons in the European equation. I remind you that in 1991, Ukraine possessed 5,000 nuclear weapons which were 'returned' to Moscow under the Budapest Agreement of 1994, supposedly to protect Kyiv. But without NATO guarantees or an alternative solution in Brussels, how can we imagine that Ukraine will not once again turn to nuclear deterrence? And if that were to happen, how can we imagine that this nuclear issue will not spill over to countries that had considered it in the past (like Sweden) or are starting to discuss it today (like Poland or even Germany)?

These are daunting questions ahead of us, which I have only touched on tonight, and I refer you to my forthcoming book where these issues are discussed in detail.

I thank you for your attention.