Gila's war jokes fit this indecisive Hamletian pre-war Europe like a glove, and of course something smells rotten and not only in Denmark. Starting with Ursula von der Leyen, the president of the European Commission, the possibility that one day we will return to our old ways, perhaps sooner rather than later, is already beginning to penetrate, although for now only a little, into the mentality of the pleased but at the same time dissatisfied and fearful Europeans.
That we don't want to know anything is obvious; that we are not prepared, too. But not only in terms of our military strength, since we lack a unified army with a single command, but eighty years of heavenly peace have made us soft, flabby, complaining, comfortably pacifist, animalistic, unparalleled good guys... and recalcitrant puritans about to take back the rack and the nuts, before proceeding to close bars, restaurants and brothels.
Of course we are ready to help the Ukrainians as much as possible in their agonizing struggle against the relentless Russian invaders, except for one thing: sending our young people to fight and perhaps die at their side for what we consider our sacred values, rights and freedoms, which Ukrainians aspire to conquer among rubble and tombs. NATO's bicoca has its days numbered. Everyone knows it, but almost no one wants to pay the ultimate price, which consists of getting their hands dirty, crawling through the trenches, shooting and perhaps being shot down in the attempt, as thousands of volunteers on both sides from all over did. parties during the Spanish civil war on the eve of the most brutal war of all time, which is saying something. From now on, Europe enters a kind of pre-war war economy, for what could happen, and the worst is already expected.
Ukraine did not arrive in time, but first Finland and now Sweden, thus ending no less than 200 years of neutrality, have entered the Atlantic Alliance. It will be because the Scandinavians have seen the ears of the wolf, or rather the bear. That in the Baltic. In the Mediterranean, there is more concern about the massive - but necessary! - arrival of immigrants and the price of olive oil or petroleum. For now. Meanwhile, Putin stirs up nuclear war.
It is forgotten with astonishing lightness that one of the most worrying aspects of Brexit was that it meant the sudden loss for the EU of half of its nuclear arsenal. What's more: the chaotic political situation of a disoriented United Kingdom could, especially if Trump is re-elected, predispose Westminster to distance itself even further from the EU.
Europe is rearming itself, yes, and longs to create its own army that is not a toy, of tin soldiers who wear striking uniforms with exotic bird feathers in their caps. But alas, in which of the official languages would the orders be given? In English? If so, it would be a historical linguistic paradox worthy of a Gila gag, since it is only a co-official language in the Republic of Ireland and Malta. Will the orders have to be translated simultaneously into all the official languages, which only in the case of Spain is already would it be four?
The first thing that is lost when declaring war is no longer the truth as they used to say, since that was lost a long time ago, but the sense of humor. You just have to look at the unfriendly face of an exhausted Zelensky and remember that before the Russian invasion he was a kind of Gila of Ukrainian television.
The future European Army could resemble the athletes in a hilarious Monty Python sketch from a supposed Olympic Games (you can catch it on YouTube) in which, for example, there is a race for athletes without a sense of direction. As soon as the gun goes off, each one quickly runs in the opposite direction.
Henry Kissinger said that when he wanted to contact Europe he didn't know who to call, and little or nothing has changed since then. We also do not know if the current situation is desperate, but not serious, or if it is the other way around. Let the enemy show up, let's see if he gives us a hand.
