This is Bloomberg Opinion Today, a white card on the blotting pad of Bloomberg Opinion's opinions. On Sundays, we look at the major themes of the week past and how they will define the week ahead. Sign up for the daily newsletter here. Peace talks, believe it or not, can be silly things. Not because the subjects under discussion are unimportant, or the people discussing them are self-important — war and its spoils have shaped far more of human history than we like to admit. Peace talks can be silly because diplomacy is filled with absurd little rules and traditions involving protocol, precedence, plenipotentiaries, ping pong and the occasional giant panda. Why just raise an issue when you can instead dispatch a demarché? Then there are the seating arrangements, which can be more Byzantine than a royal wedding. Famously, the North and South Vietnamese waged war on a second front over the shape of the negotiating table at their peace talks in Paris. Half a century earlier, there was a skirmish over the height of the chairs of the "Big Four" heads of the victorious World War I powers: France, Britain, Italy and the US, represented by US President Woodrow Wilson. As usual, 'Merica won: "Wilson, as the only head of state, had a chair a few inches higher than anyone else's," writes the historian Margaret MacMillan in her wonderful book, "Paris 1919." The Big Four in Paris. Woodrow Wilson, far right, had a leg up on the competition. Photographer: Lee Jackson/Hulton Archive But my favorite example of a muddled modus vivendi comes from that same conference at Versailles. (Notice that silliness and Paris are like conjoined twins.) Two separate and violently opposed delegations showed up from Montenegro — yes, it's a real place, look it up! British diplomat Harold Nicolson, who was there, explains: "In view of this quandary the Conference hedged in a manner which was highly characteristic. Montenegro was, it is true, represented at the Plenary Sessions of the Conference, but she was represented only by an empty gilt chair and a white card on the blotting pad." [1] Well, empty or not, at least the Montenegrins had a seat at the table. You can't say the same for Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy at last week's negotiations between the US and Russia over, you know, his own country. "Unfortunately it looks like Trump's idea of ending the war fast means doing very little for the people who were actually invaded," writes James Stavridis. As a former military commander of NATO, Admiral Stavridis has sat at a few negotiating tables. He warns that Team Trump may be in over their heads taking on Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov: "He is a tall and imposing figure, fluent in English and a very tough negotiator," Jim writes. His former boss, Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld once called Lavrov, "smooth as glass," and "he didn't mean it as a compliment." Also not meant as a compliment: Trump calling Zelenskiy a "dictator." Or the US president's implication that Ukraine started the war. Andreas Kluth thinks foreign policy has become a theater of the absurd, with Trump's minions taking on starring roles. "At one end of the spectrum are functionaries looking to save or advance their careers who go along with whatever nonsense the leader spouts, even if it contradicts tenets and values which they once held deeply," Andreas explains. "Secretary of State Marco Rubio springs to mind. Playing Talleyrand to Trump's Napoleon, this former Russia hawk now parrots the president's whims. At the other end are acolytes, henchmen or zealots vying for the leader's favor by stretching rhetoric to ever greater extremes." As for the Europeans being denied a place card, Hal Brands thinks they have nobody to blame but themselves. "Free riding — outsourcing part of one's defense to a stronger partner — is a feature of US alliances. For generations, Washington has wanted to avoid a world where Germany, Japan and other Eurasian countries arm themselves to the teeth," Hal writes. "Yet free riding became an art form after the Cold War, when many countries slashed their capabilities so deeply that they were incapable of action, outside Europe or even within it, absent US support and guidance. They also missed warning sign after warning sign that this situation was becoming untenable." Perhaps no country missed more warning signs than the continent's dominant economy: Germany, which is holding a very contentious national election today. And of course, the Trumpies have made themselves a factor, mostly through a speech Vice President JD Vance gave in Munich. It was not hedged in the language of diplomacy: "What I worry about is the threat from within — the retreat of Europe from some of its most fundamental values, values shared with the United States of America." John Authers was aghast. "He made various complaints about free speech and cultural issues in Europe, not all of which were wholly accurate," John writes. "But the idea that an American administration would say these were more dangerous than a nuclear-armed Russia currently waging a war in Europe and that murders political dissidents with impunity horrified the audience." So, is Europe preparing to take responsibility for its own protection? John says the markets may think so: Baby steps, people, baby steps: "Germany is finally meeting its NATO commitment to spend a minimum of 2% of gross domestic product on defense. But it's still far from able to protect itself effectively or fill the gap left by the US's fraying security guarantees. In the wake of the verbal bombshells dropped last week by Vice President JD Vance," writes Chris Bryant. "Europe once feared Germany rearming, but the worry now is what Putin will do if it doesn't. Germany needs a more capable military deterrent — so it never has to use it." The ultimate result of Vance's undiplomatic diplomacy may be putting guns back in the hands of Germans. Harold Nicolson wouldn't know whether to laugh or cry. Bonus Leaving the Table Reading: What's the World Got in Store? - Conf. Bd. Consumer Confidence, Feb. 25: Walmart's Worried. That's a Bad Sign for Everyone — Andrea Felsted
- Canada GDP, Feb. 28: Something Is Rotten in Canada — Robert Burgess
- US PCE, Feb. 28: Stagflation Is Poised for a Comeback — Tyler Cowen
As we watch the Germans rearm, what's happening on Nicolson's side of the channel? "On Sunday, UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer pledged to put British boots on the ground as part of a theoretical future peacekeeping force protecting a ceasefire in Ukraine. But given the stretched state of his military, that's a commitment he lacks the financial firepower to deliver," writes Rosa Prince. That, says Max Hastings, will earn the wrath of the king. Not Charles III, who isn't a very wrathy guy, not with his traveling toilet seat and toast rack and tattered teddy bear. Rather, King Donald I. Trump, who just last week raised the very unconstitutional idea of running for a third term, "displays the vanity, mood swings, pettiness, rancor against perceived enemies and — above all — determination to showcase his mastery that for millennia characterized absolute monarchs," Max writes. "Anybody who has seen the BBC drama series Wolf Hall, [2] set in the 16th century reign of Henry VIII, can catch the flavor of courts with their mingling of glitz, intrigue, whimsy and, above all, fear. Every man and woman who sought to traffic with kings and queens knew that they were taking their lives in their hands. When the will of the ruler was the only arbiter, their destinies hinged upon his goodwill." Also, it seems, the goodwill of the Crown Prince/vice president. "Vance's abusive speech in Munich was directed much less toward the audience of Europeans whom he faced, than to his master's subjects back home, to show them how foreigners are being humbled," says Max. "Here is a significant difference between the conduct of America's new monarch and his royal forebears: Kings observed elaborate courtesies, even when they were committing appalling acts. The House of Trump doesn't do politesse." And politesse, as we know, is a vital part of high-stakes diplomacy. Almost as vital as the height of the chairs. Notes: Please send brav u mlijeku [3] and feedback to Tobin Harshaw at tharshaw@bloomberg.net. |
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