Europe is a MeToo Man in Search of Healthy Masculinity

Caught between imperial hubris and strategic paralysis, Europe is searching for its role in a world of renewed great-power rivalry. Betto van Waarden argues that the continent should not revert to old power politics, but instead develop a confident, post-imperial sense of self.

When Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, American policymakers eagerly reverted to their Cold War playbooks. The post-war period had shaped an entire generation of Cold Warriors, for whom a return to conflict between modern superpowers was a warm bath compared to the chaotic multipolar world order and its invisible enemies of terrorists and guerrillas. Almost weekly, experts argue that naive Europe must also return to traditional power politics. But now that the US, Russia and China are gradually dividing Greenland, Ukraine and Taiwan based on the former logic of spheres of influence, Europe should not blindly revert to its old power politics. Europe is a MeToo man caught between its former aggression and more recent paralysis, but instead of falling back on these familiar trauma mechanisms, the current geopolitical crisis offers Europe an opportunity to transcend this toxic duality with a new kind of self-esteem.

At the end of the nineteenth century, (Western) Europe was the aggressor. Social Darwinism, hyper-imperialism and new mass media formed an explosive cocktail that led to the Scramble for Africa and the First World War – and ultimately to the totalitarian personality cults surrounding Hitler and Stalin. Masculinity itself changed from traditional patriarchy to modern machismo. Shocked by its own brutal recklessness, Europe became cautious in the second half of the twentieth century. Post-war politicians such as Clement Attlee and Willem Drees were grey mice. In West Germany, Konrad Adenauer won the elections with the campaign slogan ‘Keine Experimente’ (No experiments). Most recently, this reluctance manifested itself in the EU’s inability to use frozen Russian assets for loans to Ukraine.

Europe’s fear

The common thread was always fear. In the era of imperialism, fear of rival superpowers and fear of colonised peoples led to extreme violence; in the post-imperialist era, fear of Soviet communism and fear of our own conscience led to paralysis, dependence on the US, and ‘pleasing’ development aid that sometimes deprived both partners of the opportunity to stand on their own two feet. In the nineteenth century, fear led to a rush forward; in the twentieth century, it led to a rush backward. Assertiveness and passivity in Europe’s past are two sides of the same coin. Today, fear is making us flip this coin again: will it be more Rutte-style Trump flattery to keep our American protector, or a return to European ‘Great Power politics’? But the question is: is our current fear actually justified?

Our current fear is twofold: material and ideological. Materially, we fear being a dwarf in a land of giants. But even then, we would still be a very large dwarf. The US has 340 million inhabitants and Russia 144 million – the EU 450 million. The European NATO countries together have a GDP that is ten times (!) larger than Russia’s, and the European market is still the largest in the world – even larger than that of emerging China and India. Realists say that we may have prosperity, but we cannot defend ourselves militarily. Russia has 1,134,000 military personnel, 1,387 combat aircraft, 83 naval vessels and 2,730 tanks; the US has 1,316,000 military personnel, 3,523 fighter planes, 176 naval vessels and 2,640 tanks – the other NATO countries together have no fewer than 1,929,000 military personnel, 2,436 fighter planes, 225 naval vessels and 6,797 tanks.

Ideally, we fear that our ideas are outdated. Although the idea of the EU as a peace project is largely a myth from a historical perspective, Europe has long thrived on the idea of liberal democracy. But according to the Trump administration’s recent National Security Strategy, this European democracy is being undermined by migration. Even political scientist Ivan Krastev argues that the European community of values is being undermined by the migration crisis. But are migrants ‘proof’ of the failure of the idea of European democracy – or rather of its success? In most ‘democracies’ in the world, it does not matter how you ‘vote’ – the only way to express your true opinion is to ‘vote with your feet’. Global migration does not flow from democracies to autocracies; people migrate from autocracies to democracies – and, because of the crisis in American democracy, increasingly to European democracies. Even Americans – modern democrats par excellence – are fleeing to Europe. Europe is the new Ellis Island. Among intellectuals, it has been fashionable for decades to criticise Francis Fukuyama’s idea of liberal democracy as the ‘end of history’ as naïve, but migrants are still risking their lives for that idea. The current pressure on democracy is also leading to its renewed appreciation. Despite recent fluctuations, the world has become much more democratic over the past two centuries; in the US, record numbers of citizens have come out in defence of democracy this year; and Gen Z inside and outside Europe has risen up to demand liberal democratic freedoms.

So fear in Europe can make way for a little more self-confidence. In fact, just like the modern post-MeToo man, Europe possesses more subtle strengths: attention and quality. American computer scientist Cal Newport argues that the most valuable commodity in our information society is attention. In a world where everyone is constantly distracted, those with the capacity to immerse themselves in something have an enormous strategic advantage. In his book Essentialism, Greg McKeown even advocates investing more rather than less time in the brainstorming phase, so that we can then better limit ourselves to the goals that are really important – not twenty priorities, but one or two. We always complain that slow-moving Europe is ‘lagging behind’ hyperactive America and China, but perhaps we can turn Europe’s longer attention span into a virtue. Since COVID, we have all been captivated by the strong man, but Oxford political scientist Archie Brown shows in his book The Myth of the Strong Leader that slower forms of collegial leadership lead to better long-term policy. The tortoise wins the race.

Europe’s strength

Europe’s greatest asset is its quality of life. Realists often dismiss quality of life as some silly European hobby – and it is true that (Western) Europeans have been able to live in a land of milk and honey for half a century thanks to the American security umbrella – but what good is greater than the good life itself? Economic, technological and military ‘progress’ are merely means to this ultimate end. And for those who still want a functional argument: a healthy and happy population is also a resilient population.

‘The only thing we have to fear is fear itself’ said Franklin Roosevelt. Let us stop panicking in Europe. Fear mobilises and connects people, but too much fear paralyses and divides us. Only when we restore our calm we see clearly again. Then we can recognise false opposites: the choice is not between the American or Chinese model of technocapitalism; not between a dependent Europe or an assertive Europe; not between a European ‘civilisation’ that is better or worse than others. Instead, a path opens up to a Europe that is entirely its own and a new belief in its own capabilities in the political, technological, economic, military and social spheres – without flexing its muscles, but with self-confidence. After its own MeToo past, Europe can reinvent itself: beyond 19th-century overconfidence and 20th-century underconfidence to 21st-century self-confidence. In the world-political manosphere with its Tate-like brothers Putin and Trump, Europe must seek ‘healthy masculinity’ – or better still, a self-worth that transcends the duality between masculinity and femininity.