A European Army: A More Perfect Union

At the Munich Security Conference in February, 2025, Ukraine’s President Zelenskyy bluntly asserted, “I really believe that the time has come that the armed forces of Europe must be created.”[1] He could have said in 2023 after Russia’s President Putin had sent tanks and bombs into Ukraine; instead, the inauguration of President Trump in the U.S. that was the trigger. “Let’s be honest,” Zelenskyy continued, “now we can’t rule out that America might say ‘no’ to Europe on issues that might threaten it.”[2] At the time, Trump was planning to meet with Putin to end the war without Britain and a number of E.U. states at the table. After all, they had failed to push Putin off Crimea in 2014, and even in 2025, they were not on the same page on how to defend Ukraine militarily. Amid the political fracturing in Europe, Ukraine’s president was urging that the E.U. itself have an army, rather than merely the 60,000 troops for which the union was dependent on the states. Even on being able to borrow on its own authority, the E.U. was hamstrung by the state governments that were more interested in retaining power than in benefitting from collective action. It is difficult to analyze Zelenskyy’s plea without including the anti-federalist, Euroskeptic ideology that was still eclipsing the E.U. from realizing a more perfect union.

At the security conference, Zelenskyy put is finger on the problem: “Europe has everything it takes. Europe just needs to come together and start acting in a way that no one can say ‘no’ to Europe, boss it around, or treat it like a pushover.”[3] With foreign policy splintered—still residing primary at the state level—the E.U. could only stand by while Trump and Putin easily excluded Europe from at least the initial talks to end the war. Instead of throwing darts at the two easy external targets, Europeans could alternatively look inward in order to get the root of the problem as to why Europe was not as powerful as the size of its population would warrant. Europe just needs to come together. Even what seems like Europe coming together may really just be a perpetuation of the splintering, or fracturing, motivated by a states’ rights ideology that has compromised the E.U. since its beginning in the early 1990s.

Rather than meeting in the European Council to respond to Trump’s upcoming talks with Putin, the E.U. state of France invited ten “European leaders” to Paris “to discuss Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and strengthen their common position amid the accelerated peace process being promoted by [Trump].”[4] With Britain included, the meeting could not even be considered to be of the E.U.; in fact, Ursula von der Leyen, the president of the E.U.’s Commission, and Antonio Costa, the president of the European Council were to be merely on hand, rather than chairing the meeting. Even if the two were in charge of the meeting, the inclusion of Britain would at the very least be awkward.

In short, the parts of the federal system were in charge, while the representatives of the whole were being treated as mere appurtenances. This structure itself belies collective action whose benefits could rival those of the U.S. Rather than defer to von der Leyen and Costa, the governor of the E.U. state of France presumed that his state should take the lead in uniting Europe militarily even beyond the European Union. Concerning any resolved future military action to help Ukraine against Russia, not even von der Leyen could be relied on to reconcile any disagreements on implementation that include Britain, and as merely one of the parts, France’s Macron was in no position to weld authority over the other parts and Britain beyond chairing the meeting.  

It is no wonder that Trump and Putin decided to exclude Europe. In fact, had the two men wanted to sideline the usual fractured suspects in Europe, von der Leyen and Costa could have been invited instead of the governors of the E.U. states. In such a scenario, it would really be indicative of a problem if the governors of some of the E.U. states would meet on their own anyway—even though two of the E.U. presidents would have seats at the talks. This sordid, self-aggrandizing mentality has benefitted from the political agitation of Euroskeptics (i.e., states’ rights in American parlance), but the problem is that of state officials—and their respective governments—too desirous of holding onto power rather than agreeing to delegate some of it to the federal level—by which I mean along with qualified majority voting there rather than unanimity wherein the states can retain their power at the expense of collective action, and the benefits thereof.

Zelenskyy was on target: a European—meaning the E.U.—army was needed, and not just because of Trump or Putin. A federal system in which state officials relegate federal officials—presidents no less—not only puts the interests of (some of) the parts before that of the whole, but also imperils the federal system itself from being able to sustain itself as a going concern. For Europeans, its well past time to look within rather than focus on Trump in utter disgust.

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1. Joshua Posaner, “Zelenskyy: ‘The Time Has Come’ for a European Army,” Politico, February 15, 2025.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Jorge Liboreiro, “Macron Hosts European Leaders in Paris as Trump Pushes for Peace Talks on Ukraine,” Euronews.com, February 17, 2025.

The Kurds Betrayed: Iraq Retakes Kirkuk with U.S. Backing

For some reason, people tend to assume that the status quo has been around for a very, very long time—that it enjoys the perk of longevity. To mess with it even in part is typically assumed to “upset the apple cart.” The fear is excessive. A century after World War I, the fact that many of the extant countries in the Middle East had been artificially crafted by Britain and France paled under the presumption that those countries had been around for much, much longer. Accordingly, the fact that the Kurds voted overwhelmingly in 2017 to secede from Iraq was ignored or dismissed not only by Iraq, but also by other countries in the region and the United States. “Baghdad and most countries in the region had condemned the vote, fearing it would fuel ethnic divisions, lead to the breakup of Iraq and hobble the fight against the Islamic State.”[1] I submit that the fear was overblown and mistaken.

Firstly, ethnic divisions had been crippling Iraq since the United States toppled Saddam Hussain. An independent Kurdistan in the northern third of Iraq would have relieved the pressure such that the Iraqi government would only have to deal with the Sunni-Shiite struggle for power.

Secondly, even if Iraq itself would break-up completely, even this outcome would not be so much to fear, as Iraq itself had been artificially formed by the British after World War I. Put another way, the salience of the ethnic divisions in Iraq can be taken as an indication of the sheer artificiality of the state itself. The very notion of a nation goes along with ethnic clusters rather than forcing such clusters to form one political culture (to say nothing of getting along).

Thirdly, the pesh merga forces of the Kurds had fought quite well against the Islamic State, so invigorating the Kurds by supporting the formation of their own state would have been in the interests of the United States. Betraying the Kurds by enabling the Iraqi forces to take Kirkuk and its valuable oil region could be expected to have the opposite effect. In ignoring the clear will of the Kurds as per the decisive result of the referendum for secession, the United States betrayed itself, moreover, given that country’s preachments on behalf of democracy, which entails the self-determination of We the People.

A century after World War I, the world had an opportunity to remember that victorious European powers redrew the political map in the Middle East without taking into account the ethnic clusters that are naturally so integral to having nation-states. That such states enjoy a monopoly of power in international relations—the international realm literally being inter-national—suggests that the crafting of coherent rather than artificial nations is very important. Hence, a century out from WWI, the world of nations need not simply assume that even the break-up of a Middle Eastern country would somehow be the collapse of something that has always been around and would therefore be catastrophic. Put another way, a country formed by a European power should not enjoy default status because the formation itself can be viewed as problematic, evidenced by the ensuing ethnic strife. Admittedly, this does not hold in every country formed by Britain or France (e.g. Jordan), but where a country is strife-ridden, the application of nation itself is problematic; ethnic pushes for independence should not have to face the inertia of the status quo in such a case.

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[1] David Zucchino, “Iraqis Capture Key Kurdish City with Little Fight,” The New York Times, October 17, 2017.

E.U. Free-Trade After Brexit: Applying Domestic Requirements to International Trade

With Britain set to secede from the European Union, one major question was whether British businesses would continue to get unfettered access to the E.U.’s domestic market. I submit that subjecting free-trade negotiations to stipulations that are oriented to states rather than trading partners is unfair to Britain. Given the extraordinary influence of E.U. state officials at the federal level, this is a case in which the political influence of British business would be constructive rather than subversive of the public domain to private interests.

The full essay is at "Essays on the E.U. Political Economy," available at Amazon.

China’s Increasing International Role: A Historical Departure

Historically, China was isolationist. The Opium Wars in the mid-19^th century is a good illustration of why. From this context, China’s announcements of a series of international trade and finance initiatives by which China would assume a larger leadership role internationally are stunning. Doubtless the enhanced role is in line with China’s geopolitical and economic interests. After all, political realism is hardly a dead theory in the 21^st century. Even so, the impact of the reversal on the culture is significant, and thus worthy of study. Specifically, the traditional mistrust of foreigners is likely to diminish. As it does, the Chinese will be more likely to consider and even advocate for economic and political principles, such as liberty and rights, that are valued elsewhere in the world but not so much in China. The result could be increased political instability. In short, the initiatives timed to coincide with the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) meeting in November 2014 could eventually weaken the Chinese government’s grip on power.

In the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911), relations with non-Chinese peoples were conducted by “a variety of bureaus and agencies that, in different ways, implied or stated the cultural inferiority and geographical marginality of foreigners, while also defending the state against them.”[1] Even though countries such as Burma, Thailand, and Vietnam “shared many of the basic values of Chinese culture,” the emissaries “were expected to make a formal acknowledgement of China’s cultural and political prestige by [using] a language of subservience in diplomatic documents and by making the ritual prostrations (kowtow) before the Chinese emperor in royal audiences. In return, these countries were allowed to conduct a controlled volume of trade with China.”[2] Interestingly, a certain subservience and even inferiority may have been implied at the APEC meeting in Beijing in 2014 to the extent that China held huge quantities of foreign currencies in reserve (which could be used to invest in other economies) and foreign government debt (e.g., U.S. Treasuries). In this sense, China’s enhanced leadership role internationally is in line with the history. Even the taking on of a leadership role implies that the resulting increased trade and foreign economic relations more generally would be controlled in their contours, as the leadership was oriented to designing international economic infrastructure, and no system-design is perfectly neutral.

Just before the APEC meeting, the Chinese government announced a free-trade agreement with South Korea; both the timing of the announcement and the taking of initiative on the agreement imply significant—though not complete—control. Additionally, Chinese regulators “approved a plan to open Chinese stock markets wider to foreign investors by linking exchanges in Hong Kong and Shanghai.”[3] Simply in having a plan, the Chinese government was controlling how foreign investors would relate to the stock exchanges. Put another way, control is implied in having a plan, rather than alternatively watching foreign investors come in do as they will (e.g., speculate by selling-short, thereby trashing even some sound companies). Lastly, the Chinese government announced a $40 billion Chinese-financed fund to improve trade links between Asian economies. The money alone implies control. At the very least, the Chinese would have a big say in how the links are made.

The extent of the Chinese involvement in international economic relations is startling from a historical perspective, but the degree of control implied is not. Historically, the Chinese had good reason to distrust foreign governments. On August 29, 1842, the Chinese signed the British treaty of Nanjing in what is now known as the first opium war. Facing an epidemic of addiction, the Qing government had outlawed trade in the drug. In the treaty, British opium merchants could live and operate in five Chinese cities—Canton, Fuzhou, Xiamen, Ningbo, and Shanghai. Although only the latter was a boom town, illegal opium would come into China at a rate of at least 20,000 chests a year.[4] Additionally, the island of Hong Kong was to possessed in perpetuity by the British.[5] The United States, France, and a host of other countries also extracted concessions. All told, the Qing “had lost control of vital elements of China’s commercial, social, and foreign policies.”[6] As if this were not enough, the Tianjin treaty in 1858 opened all Chinese ports to British opium traders in spite of the fact that the possession and sale of the narcotic was still illegal under Chinese law. To pressure the Qing into signing the treaty that implied deep disrespect for Chinese law within China, the British burnt down the Yuan Ming Yuan, the exquisite summer palace on October 18, 1860. The Chinese were humiliated at such a disgrace.[7]

Deep scares inexorably become etched in the subterranean contours of a society’s perspective of the world. An insistence or at least a proclivity to control relations with foreign powers naturally goes along with an inner sense of insecurity masked as an insistence to relate only from a position of power—whether it be militarily or in having massive reserves of foreign currencies or debt as assets. What has changed is the extent of China’s interaction with other countries, economically and politically. Ironically, from the controlled design of international economic regimes, increased exchange can be expected—not only of economic goods and services under free trade, but also of ideological principles. In this sense, the Chinese government risks opening China up beyond what that governing party can control.

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1. Jonathon Spence, The Search for Modern China, 2^nd ed. (New York: W. W. Norton, 1999), p. 117.

2. Ibid, p. 118.

3. Joe McDonald and Youkyung Lee, “Asia-Pacific Leaders Agree to Work Toward Possible Adoption of Trade Deal,” The Associated Press, November 11, 2014.

4. Spence, Search for Modern China, p. 164.

5. Ibid., pp. 160-61.

6. Ibid., p. 163.

7. Ibid., p. 182.