© REUTERS/Olivier Matthys/Pool

Since the summer, Emmanuel Macron has made a sudden reappearance on the front lines of international politics. In August, he invited Vladimir Putin to Fort de Brégançon, the French presidential retreat, where the two leaders discussed the conflict in Ukraine and the possibility of Russia’s readmission to the G7 economic summit. Later that month, as G7 host, Macron welcomed leaders of the world’s largest industrial nations, but also brought along a surprise guest, Iran’s foreign minister, Mohammad Javad Zarif.

At the United Nations in September, the French president called on his fellow world leaders to show “the courage of responsibility.” This prompts the question: is Macron is speaking here on behalf of France or of the European Union as a whole, and can the two positions be reconciled?

A Sense of Urgency

Political observers in the French capital agree on this: Europe’s security architecture is under threat to a degree not seen in three or even four decades. In Macron’s own words: “The international order is being disrupted in an unprecedented way…for the first time in our history, in almost all areas and on a historic scale. Above all, there is a transformation, a geopolitical and strategic reconfiguration.” The French president was referring to the challenge to multilateralism from great powers like the United States and China, but also to intensifying armed conflicts close to Europe’s frontiers. Yet another worry for Macron is the distance the Trump administration has taken from questions of European security.

Macron believes the world now emerging will have a bipolar structure, with the United States on one side and China on the other. All other states will play a subordinate role; this includes Russia, which faces marginalization within this new bipolar order. For Europe, the outlook is little better: “We will have to choose between the two dominant powers,” he told the conference of French ambassadors in August. In other words, the choice open to a future Europe will be whom to serve as junior partner.

But Macron would not be Macron if he gave up in the face of adversity. Having made his bleak assessment, he concluded by demanding that Europe turn itself into an autonomous international actor. As outlined in his famous 2017 Sorbonne speech, Macron wants to see the construction of a sovereign Europe. This Europe would be able to live according to its own values (by no means identical to American values), safeguard its own political and economic interests, and, not least, defend itself militarily. For Macron, this is a matter of urgency.

A Common Front with Russia

France’s desire to improve relations with Russia should be seen against this backdrop. Macron is well aware of Moscow’s hostile stance toward the EU, but he continues to push for constructive cooperation in the relatively near future, for example on arms control and in space. The aim is to prevent Russia from further destabilizing the EU and its surrounding regions. Macron also has another goal in mind: he ultimately sees Russia as a possible ally for Europe in the emerging bipolar world system.

At the conference of ambassadors, Macron was explicit: “To rebuild a real European project in a world that is at risk of bipolarization, [we must] succeed at forming a common front between the EU and Russia.” The statement provoked anger, and not only among EU member states in Eastern Europe, where many fear that closer ties to Moscow inevitably spell danger. There is also a distinct air of skepticism among French political and diplomatic elites. Macron is well aware of this, hence his insistence that French ambassadors adopt a new and different mentality.

This is Macron’s vision of the future. But present-day realities look somewhat different. For a number of years, Islamist terror attacks have been a pressing, immediate danger to France. It is clear that the French government can only win out in the battle against terrorism through cooperation with partners and allies. The same goes for overseas military operations, where France rapidly comes up against the limits of its own power.

This explains French pragmatism on the question of allies. “We need to find support everywhere we can,” Defense Minister Florence Parly told a conference at the Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington in 2017. In this respect, the US remains indispensable to France. Particularly in the Sahel region of West Africa, France relies on Washington for logistical support and intelligence sharing. Considerable flexibility is needed to combine that sort of dependency with France’s aspirations to autonomy. All the more so when dealing with an unpredictable interlocutor like Donald Trump.

Disappointed with Berlin

Macron’s new foreign policy may seek to invoke the independent French position of previous presidents Charles de Gaulle and Jacques Chirac. However, the current president has added a new element to traditional Fifth Republic foreign policy. No president prior to Macron has ever made such a clear push for European integration, including foreign and security policy. This has particular relevance to the question of autonomy, something Macron desires both for France and for Europe. French policy elites still regard the EU as a force multiplier, useful for a country now without the capacities to match its ambition, despite its nuclear weapons and its permanent UN Security Council seat. But France also regards the EU as a community of interests that must present a united front in an increasingly turbulent world. For this reason, goes the argument, the EU must develop its capacities to operate autonomously in the long term, if necessary without its traditional American partner.

Immediately after his election, Macron attempted to achieve this through close cooperation on fiscal and monetary policy with Germany. However, it rapidly became clear that Berlin had no intention of supporting his ambitious projects for the eurozone. For Paris, this German reluctance increased the importance of another aspect of bilateral relations: defense and arms industry cooperation. The Aachen Treaty, signed by the two countries in January 2019, committed them to “continue to intensify the cooperation between their armed forces with a view to the establishment of a common culture and joint deployments.”

Paris has now distinctly lowered its expectations of a grand alliance with Berlin. In any case, an arrangement like that can only be a project for the very long term. One recent move can been seen as a small first step. The Franco-German agreement at the countries’ most recent bilateral talks in Toulouse makes important changes to arms export regulation. Crucially, Germany will no longer claim the right to block exports of jointly-manufactured weapons systems if German components make up less than 20 percent of the arms in question.

In practice, however, Franco-German cooperation continues to occupy precarious political ground, not least because of stark differences in foreign policy traditions. This is why Paris has sought British participation in European security policy instruments, including the recently established European Intervention Initiative, a 13-nation military project outside both the EU and NATO. Brexit or no Brexit, the United Kingdom and France share a particular strategic outlook, as well as a long tradition of overseas military intervention. In this context, Britain will remain an important partner for France.

A Change of Strategy

Growing frustrations, above all the disappointment with Berlin, led Macron to change his European strategy ahead of May’s European elections. First, Paris now no longer shied away from confrontation with Berlin. Second, the French government intensified its involvement in EU institutional politics and wants to use this more strongly as leverage. Macron supported the formation of Renew Europe, a new liberal grouping in the European parliament, in which French parliamentarians are the biggest delegation (21 out of 74).

Macron also robustly intervened in the struggle over key EU leadership posts. He actively opposed the so-called Spitzenkandidat (“lead candidate”) system, by which the winning party in European parliamentary elections could claim the presidency of the European Commission. Instead, Macron backed Ursula von der Leyen for president. He was gratified that her Europe Agenda 2019–2024 borrowed key ideas from his Sorbonne speech, including ambitious climate goals, a European minimum wage, and the creation of an EU defense union. The French president also pushed for the appointment of Charles Michel as European Council president and Josep Borrell as the EU High Representative for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy. In Paris, both men are regarded as close to French positions.

Macron’s final tactical maneuver would have seen Sylvie Goulard appointed as a commissioner in charge of a beefed-up portfolio including internal market affairs, as well as industry, aerospace, digitization and culture. Goulard would have overseen the implementation of Macron’s preferred EU projects. But the European parliament rejected Goulard’s nomination, a severe blow to Macron.

In picking Thierry Breton, a businessman and one-time French Minister for Economy, Finance and Industry, as a substitute for Goulard, Macron signaled that knowledge of Germany and therefore the ability to explain his project to the Germans (which Goulard had) was no longer a requirement for the job. The top priority is now to maintain the portfolio that Paris had negotiated and which is in line with its European agenda. A top-level partnership between Goulard and von der Leyen could have been a dynamic driving force for Franco-German cooperation at the EU level. This is now a more difficult proposition, particularly since von der Leyen’s own position has turned out to be more fragile than expected, while the European Parliament seems set to remain riven by political tensions.

Difficult Road to Europeanization

In Paris, the unexpected obstacles in Brussels have been the cause of even more frustration. This French impatience is prompted by the general sense of urgency, along with the country’s aspirations to leadership. In response, the Macron administration has sought room for maneuver elsewhere, going beyond EU frameworks and other traditional diplomatic formats.

The recent rapprochement with Russia is a case in point. Paris will do what it regards as right for both itself and the EU, although where interests actually overlap is a matter for debate. France also hopes its actions will persuade other partners to get on board: French foreign policy is meant to be inclusive. The talks with Putin, for example, were regarded in Paris as a first step, to be followed by the continuation of the “Normandy format” Ukrainian peace talks, which also involved Germany and Ukraine. However, such solo activism may run the risk of offending France’s EU partners, fomenting unnecessary trouble.

One example of this was France’s recent veto of Albania’s and North Macedonia’s application to join the EU, in what would have been a further expansion, this time into south-eastern Europe. Macron’s arguments on the subject are actually entirely legitimate. He is quite right to suggest that the EU’s accession process is problematic: the prospective new members gave inadequate assurances on the rule of law, where improvements are clearly required. Moreover, it is doubtful whether the EU, already embroiled in a painful Brexit saga, would be prepared to admit new members before it has reformed its own institutions and internal processes.

Macron’s veto was meant to signal that expansion would endanger integration, risking the EU’s cohesion and unity. Here, he continued a long-standing tradition in France’s European policy that regards deepening and enlargement as mutually contradictory. Opponents of Macron’s position argue that the EU’s borders should be stabilized, demanding a more pragmatic approach. The French president understands this objection. However, he has maintained his veto, which has come at a high price. The issue has seen him isolated, and has weakened his pro-European credibility.

Be Patient, Be Polite

For all his pro-European convictions, Macron has no intention of silencing France’s voice on the world stage. Like all French politicians, he is not prepared to hand over the country’s permanent UN Security Council seat to an EU representative. At best, Macron may coordinate policy with other European members of the Security Council, thus fulfilling the Aachen Treaty’s stipulation that France and Germany should act “in accordance with the positions and interests of the European Union.”

Given this logic, it is unsurprising that Macron welcomed Borrell’s appointment as High Representative. Borrell is familiar with France’s strategic culture, but also with the sensitivities of member states that are jealous of their prerogatives, the result of many years serving as Spanish foreign minister. He realizes it would be an error to seek the limelight. Of course, he will set the tone for his own department, but his main focus will be on internal coordination processes. All foreign affairs issues will probably be discussed in the Council of Ministers, where larger states tend to have greater visibility. Nonetheless, the EU needs unity in order, for example, to impose economic sanctions as a foreign policy instrument. The voices of the larger states only dominate if the entire EU goes along with them and implements their decisions. This interplay of forces will determine what happens.

For Macron this means that he must constantly strike a balance between national self-assertion and integration within EU structures. If he wants to exert influence within the EU, he cannot go it alone. That’s no easy task for a man of Macron’s impatience. Here, he runs a twofold risk: first, he may offend his partners and come across as arrogant, especially to smaller EU states, who feel he patronizes them. The second risk is that Macron will lose credibility if his well-publicized plans end up going nowhere. In both cases, it is a question of reliability and trust, a basic requirement if the project of European autonomy is to gain sustainable momentum.

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© REUTERS/Fabrizio Bensch

They might not be running for office in Germany, but for France’s presidential candidates, a campaign stop on German soil has become par for the course. French politicians have often used their larger, more powerful neighbor as a platform to lay out their visions for France and Europe. It was little surprise therefore to see former Economy Minister Emmanuel Macron, who has built his own “En Marche!” movement, arguing for a more proactive France in front of a crowd at Berlin’s Humboldt University.

Conservative François Fillon, on the other hand, traveled to the German capital to meet with his fellow Christian Democrat, Chancellor Angela Merkel, at the start of the year; he also delivered a speech calling for a more streamlined Europe. As for the leader of the right-wing populist Front National, Marine Le Pen, she teamed up with the German populist Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) party at a gathering of far-right leaders in Koblenz in January, where she took aim at Berlin’s pro-European policies.

All three candidates have drastically different visions for France and its role in Europe, and this May’s presidential election will undoubtedly have a significant impact on Germany and France’s unique bilateral relationship – by far the closest within the EU. It still holds true that any European solution requires Berlin and Paris at the helm, whether it’s dealing with eurozone woes or the migration crisis. Yet in recent years, Europe’s two most powerful states have been increasingly limited in their ability to advance a common agenda.

Disappearing Power

The last few years have shown that Berlin and Paris are finding it ever more difficult to strike compromises and mobilize partners. Despite a series of crises within the EU and beyond, pressing questions remain unresolved. Joint efforts to deal with the refugee crisis in 2016 proved difficult. Merkel and President François Hollande met various times over many months in an effort to find a common solution, with little to show for it: the proposal that emerged from those hours of negotiations aimed to strengthen the EU’s external borders and reform the Dublin asylum regulation. But their in part quite far-reaching proposals met with opposition, and Berlin and Paris proved unable to convince their  European partners of the wisdom of their ideas.

Interests within the bloc have grown increasingly diverse, and European-level governance has become controversial, particularly with the wave of right-wing populism sweeping the continent. And in some policy areas, integration is already so advanced that any step forward threatens to tread upon national sovereignty.

It is precisely the question of integration and sovereignty that Germany and France have failed to address adequately; daily cooperation between the two governments has helped in times of crisis, but neither Merkel nor Hollande have succeeded in setting out a clear vision for Europe or taking responsibility of a fragile community. If the two leaders don’t present a series of goals and agree to compromise on European policy at the highest level, the vaunted French-German partnership could slowly grind to a halt. More importantly, both countries are facing key tests in national elections this year, and new faces could well reshape bilateral relations significantly, redefining a long-standing partnership.

A Fluid Balance

France and Germany’s relationship was long defined by a relatively fluid yet stable equilibrium: Germany was traditionally stronger economically, and France drew its influence from foreign policy and military prowess. But after the end of the Cold War, France’s traditional tools of power – its nuclear arsenal, its permanent seat on the UN Security Council, and its ties to the United States – started to lose their shine. At the same time, Germany discovered a newfound confidence on the world stage, building a mighty export-oriented economy and assuming a leading role in the EU. The scales began to tip decisively, and the chasm between the two countries sparked tensions.

In the back halls of the National Assembly in Paris, frustration brewed amid feelings that the French government had been relegated to second fiddle and no longer held the keys to its own future. Berlin, on the other hand, felt increasingly vulnerable to the mistakes and weaknesses of France and other European countries. These doubts and misunderstandings still plague their relationship today.

Some perceptions have improved: Gone are the days of 2012, when controversy over German dominance in the EU stirred hefty debates in France. Yet even if Germany is not explicitly mentioned in campaign rhetoric, Berlin’s relative strength has cast a shadow over growth, competitiveness, and economic reforms. For many French voters, Germany is clearly setting the course for the EU.

In a country where a sense of national pride and sovereignty run deep, it is not entirely surprising that German power has become a source of irritation among voters and lawmakers – particularly for those on the more extreme ends of the political spectrum. Marine Le Pen has accused Germany of enslaving “the peoples of Europe.” The far-left politician Jean-Luc Mélenchon, meanwhile, has demanded a showdown with the German government. Voices of discontent have even emerged from mainstream parties: the Socialists’ candidate, Benoît Hamon, is calling for an alliance of Europe’s left to counter Berlin’s policies, and Fillon aims to make France a solid counterweight to Germany. Until now, only Macron appears to see France and Germany bound by their commonalities rather than their differences.

Tensions between France and Germany are hardly new. The familiar power play between the two neighbors featured prominently in the 1970s after the oil crisis, during the ensuing economic crisis, and even in the early 1990s with the end of the Cold War and German reunification. At that time, French newspapers were awash with the question of whether a dominant Germany posed a threat to France because it wielded far more economic and political influence. These days, anti-German sentiment has returned.

Yet in these debates, it is often forgotten just how much Germany depends upon a politically and economically stable France. Germany has often been described as a reluctant hegemon, uncomfortable, self-conscious, and uncertain of its own power. In recent years in particular, Berlin has longed for a stronger, more robust partner in Paris willing and able to share the burden of responsibility. France’s weak points are seen as a liability, both politically and economically.

What’s more, fears abound in Berlin, too, where some lawmakers are increasingly concerned they are being hoodwinked, with suspicions that Paris is undermining the eurozone’s rules. In some circles in Berlin, there is the belief and expectation that France “must do its homework” before further steps can be taken. On both sides, mistrust and strained communication have hindered actual progress.

Reset Needed

The framework of France’s and Germany’s relationship has also faced significant structural changes that make it difficult to restore ties to what they once were.

First, Europe’s debt crisis has sharpened the lines of asymmetry between the two; while Germany was barely affected, France is still struggling with an unemployment rate of around ten percent, sluggish growth, and towering public debt. Meanwhile Germany is enjoying full employment, record surpluses, and a balanced budget; and the US has overtaken France to become its largest trading partner.

France has also seen the president’s authority suffer a blow in recent years, due to the governing Socialists’ internal squabbling on European and economic policy. The Front National, meanwhile, has pushed public discourse to the right and destabilized the political landscape. These developments have weakened France’s position in the EU as Paris has become a less reliable partner. Germany has witnessed a long period of stability, but the AfD is threatening to rattle the status quo. If the populists garner enough votes to enter parliament in September (which looks likely at this point), mainstream parties in government will be reluctant to pursue more integrationist policies.

Second, structural changes have reinforced the uneven distribution of power in the EU. A series of crises have tarnished the bloc’s image and made Germany’s disproportionate strength loom especially large. The 2007 Treaty of Lisbon shifted power in Brussels, enhancing the role of the European Council and weakening that of the European Commission. That has benefited large countries like Germany that could build coalitions and frame policy; France, meanwhile, has been facing domestic battles and has struggled to appear credible.

Third, skepticism and downright hostility toward the European project has grown significantly in France over the last decade. According to a study from the Pew Research Center in June 2016, 32 percent of those polled were in favor of the European Union, compared to 69 percent in 2004. It’s no wonder then that most of this year’s presidential candidates have curried voters’ favor by portraying the EU as the problem, rather than part of the solution.

For years, European integration was sold to French voters as a form of protection, especially from the powerful forces of globalization. But doggedly high unemployment and the rising number of people in precarious living conditions have seen trust in Europe dwindle. Germany is seen as the main architect behind the EU’s strict “austerity” rules as well. In short, many French believe they have been forced to implement policies that are directly responsible for their economic and social woes.
The EU enlargement in Eastern Europe of 2004 – bringing the bloc to 25 members – was regarded with skepticism, too, triggering feelings of uncertainty and alienation. A year later, those sentiments bubbled to the surface as a majority of French voters rejected the EU’s proposed constitutional treaty. The commitment to more fiscal discipline only fueled frustration further.

Germans, on the other hand, mostly saw the 2004 enlargement as an historic and strategic necessity and a further economic opportunity. Doubling down on fiscal discipline was considered a prerequisite for long-term sustainable growth, and financial solidarity was a key cornerstone of future success. Clearly, France and Germany were drifting apart.

Bringing Back Old Habits

In the past, Germany and France have countered mistrust and resentment with more cooperation: Helmut Schmidt and Valéry Giscard d’Estaing built the foundation for a common currency in the 1970s, for example. Some twenty years later, Helmut Kohl and François Mitterrand brought their governments together for a conference that paved the way for the Maastricht Treaty in 1992. Integration, it seemed, was a natural reflex to uncertainty. These days, that seems no longer the natural thing to do.

The task of keeping the EU together and preserving the single market in the face of Brexit and the Trump presidency has taken top priority, while the question of reforming treaties is no longer considered realistic. Yet it is time to return to the old reflex, with a new approach: fresh Franco-German initiatives could be effective if they are based on a deep understanding of the economic and social circumstances in both countries. The labor market is a prime example. German companies have complained time and again about a shortage of skilled labor; France, meanwhile, is struggling to combat high unemployment. French youth lack real prospects at home, and that threatens to destabilize social cohesion with serious consequences. Front National has scored well with young people by portraying itself as a champion of the weak. Together, Germany and France could bridge the labor gap.

This year is likely to be a decisive one for the EU and the French-German relationship. There is no denying that the two countries have the power to tackle crucial questions on integration and reform. It is equally clear, however, that competing interests and political polarization will threaten to drive a wedge between Berlin and Paris, particularly with elections drawing closer. Joint initiatives might fail to overcome anti-European sentiment; yet it is more likely that the EU itself will fail if these two countries do not forge a path ahead together.

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