A series of escapes

For more than a decade, European states and societies had been rocked by severe disruption. Unprepared, unprotected, they withstood it as best they could.

Four acute crises caught the collaborative venture off guard: the banking and euro crisis (2008–12), the Ukraine crisis (2014–15), the migrant crisis (2015–16) and the Atlantic crisis of Brexit-&-Trump (2016–20). Four times the patiently constructed decision-making factory that served the market, the currency and freedom of movement was pummelled by divisive forces. Four times government leaders, ministers, commissioners and central bankers hurried to Brussels, Luxembourg or Frankfurt for “last chance” consultations, in which they reshaped the European Union. Four times too, all across Europe, a polyphonic public climbed onto its seats to jeer or applaud, occupied squares, waved flags and won back the power of the ballot box in renewed, intense engagement with the political drama taking place on the European stage.

Riding the waves of each crisis, prophets of doom announced the end of the Union. The most eager among them provided a date. “In a matter of months” the euro might well be finished, predicted top economist Paul Krugman in May 2012, while his colleague Willem Buiter spoke of “weeks, it could be days”. In early 2016, when one European internal border after another was shut in response to chaos on the external borders, Commission president Juncker imagined in his New Year press conference the end of Schengen, the internal market, the euro. After a majority of British voters decided in June that year to leave the Union – and even more so when, the following November, American voters elected Donald Trump president – many were again certain that the hour had come. Member states would fall like dominoes – Brexit Nexit Frexit – until no Union remained.

Yet the European Union survived those four formidable crises. The euro is still with us. How come? Observers always underestimate the invisible glue that holds the club together.