What does Germany’s response to the Ukrainian crisis show about Europe’s ability to learn from the past?
Solidarity protest in Berlin Pariser Platz (Photo: Leonhard Lenz, Creative Commons)
The Russian invasion of Ukraine that started two months ago has, for many, marked a watershed for contemporary European history and the continent’s internal political relations. The hypothetical World War III scenario seems less and less like a conspiracy theory with each day that passes, and this tense atmosphere is certainly palpable in Germany, not least due to its status as one of the European Union’s big shots. The speech given by the Chancellor Olaf Scholz on 27th February addresses the specifically German dilemma of reconciling this powerful position and taking a stand in the conflict: “As Europeans, we are on [the Ukrainians’] side – the right side of history’’ followed by “the reconciliation between Germans and Russians after World War II is and will remain a significant chapter of our shared history,’’ underlining the need to distinguish between Putin and the Russian population. Politically speaking, Germany is therefore faced with the contradictory need to remain neutral while expressing support towards Ukraine; essentially, to protect its image as the new do-gooders of Europe.
A massive influx of refugees is by no means a novelty for the European Union. Just seven years ago, the 2015 crisis resulted in over a million asylum seekers coming to Germany under Merkel’s famous motto, “we can do it” (“wir schaffen das”), causing a shift in its public perception as the new welcoming space of Europe. The confidence of this statement, however, does not seem to apply to the current times; despite the previous experiences, the way the country has managed the crisis so far arguably shows lack of preparation for the consequences. Several days into the war, with as many as over 100.000 Ukrainians crossing the Polish border every day, the German government was only beginning to organise help. In general, Germany appears to have a different approach to dealing with the accommodation of refugees than Poland, for example, where significantly more civilians are willing to offer them housing. The distribution of the incomers in Germany is largely established based on the Königsteiner Schlüssel, a system previously in charge of allocating spaces for the Syrian refugees based on the wealth status of each federal state. This could potentially have a negative effect for the integration of the immigrants in the long run. Herbert Brücker, Director of the Berlin Institute for Empirical Integration and Migration Research, has mentioned that such a system, by essentially obliging refugees to stay in a particular area, reduces their otherwise potentially higher employment rates.
Overall, the German federal police has registered some 350.000 refugees as of Easter time, with a probably much greater number of people coming in without registration. What is remarkable about the last few weeks is the apparent surprise with which the Russo-Ukrainian War has been received; as the Governing Mayor of Berlin Franziska Giffey said, “no one could have expected a war to break out in Europe.’’ However, looking back at the annexation of Crimea by Russia in 2014, one cannot help but experience a sort of déjà vu moment as the passivity of European Union and its tragic repercussions are only now coming to light – and so are the shortcomings of this institution in times when solidarity is of paramount importance. The scale of the impact of this war has clearly been misjudged by the leaders of the Union, considering, among others, the EU Commissioner for Home Affairs, Ylva Johansson’s statement: “if need be, Poland is quite well-prepared to receive a considerable number of Ukrainians,’’ without providing any estimates regarding said number.
Another factor which has turned out to play a crucial role is the continent’s reliance on Russian energy sources. The recent decision to stop Nord Stream 2, a continuation of pipeline construction transporting gas from Russia to Germany, struck up a debate on the need for European countries to be more self-sufficient in terms of natural resources. The general consensus seems to be that a certain amount of dependence is inevitable, as Europe thus caves in to the fate of the “tragic voyeurist’’, as it were – that of the economic, although not moral, supporter of the aggressor. The Nord Stream 2 affair does not appear to make Germany look any more favourable, especially with Zelensky criticising its government’s portrayal of the pipeline as a purely economic enterprise. What now appears suspicious is the apparent intertwining of politics and economics in the issue. The person credited with the first such project is Germany’s former Chancellor, Gerhard Schröder, who notably now holds the position of the head of the Nord Stream 2 shareholders’ committee, also financed by large energy companies from other European countries such as Austria, France and Great Britain.
As a country haunted by a spectre of the past, Germany understandably needs to handle the conflict delicately and, as Scholz stresses, not let its involvement escalate into any offensive measures. The trope of post-World War II reconciliation with Russia, however, has a price to pay: not only the devastating cost of thousands of Ukrainian lives as well as the cultural and historical beauty of the country as the rest of Europe observes, in a tragic impasse, the unveiling nightmare. The challenge will arguably also have a damaging effect on Germany and the European Union as a whole, as the image of solidary Europeans defending the core values of freedom and democracy gradually transforms into a caricature of seemingly empty promises.