David and Narcissus

If you needed to fight Goliath, who would you chose to be?

Time will tell what the effect on the US and global economy will be of the single-handed revolution that Donald Trump imposed on the world. On one hand, the font size on media comments claiming the gross policy mishandling by the Trump administration; on the other, the merely modest downgrade of the IMF’s global economic forecast (which, by the way, takes into account data until ‘Liberation Day’. Who’s right?

But in politics, we had a remarkable week—elections in Canada, Australia, the UK, and Romania, which unequivocally highlighted a notable difference: that between David and Narcissus.

On one hand, there is David, a smaller player who understands asymmetry, takes matters seriously, and chooses his terrain wisely, refusing to play by Goliath’s rules. On the other hand is Narcissus, the stubborn, beautiful young man, grandstanding his own image to himself, so captivated by its reflection in a pool of water that he couldn't bear to leave, eventually wasting away, ultimately defeated by self-fascination.

Last week, David was Canada; Australia was David. Europe (not only since last week) is Narcissus – certainly not young, even less a ‘man’ (for even thinking in terms of women and men has become reactionary, here), but ever so in love with itself, or what it believes itself to be.

During his first 100 days, Trump used increasingly incendiary rhetoric, suggesting that Canada should renounce its sovereignty and join the United States as its 51st state. The threat was taken seriously in Maple Leaf Country. Laughing at and belittling Trump’s words, if it occurred, was quickly overshadowed by a strategy focused on opposing that idea. The choice emphasised politics over ridicule. This serious undertaking has paid off in Canada’s eyes. The Liberal Party, led by a prime minister who wasn't even a member of Parliament, has achieved an incredible turnaround. Conservative leader Pierre Poilievre - an unabashed Trump supporter who was on track to become prime minister three months ago when his party had a significant lead in the polls - ended up losing his seat in his own constituency.

Dig a hole in Ottawa and you will end up in Canberra (actually halfway between Madagascar and Western Australia, for the sake of precision, but you get the gist). Although not directly threatened (yet?) with annexation by the Trump administration, Australians smelled foul: “we too are a quite sizeable economy; we too have plenty of natural resources and rare earth; we too speak English.” As a result, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and his centre-left Labour Party, having slumped in the polls until Trump’s inauguration, have improved their Parliament majority from a razor-thin 77 to a more comfortable 85. Peter Dutton, his centre-right opponent, whose borrowing from the Trump playbook hasn’t been subtle, has ended up sorely defeated, losing his Parliament seat as well.

As it had happened in Canada a few days earlier, the Australian response to the opposition to Trump’s political activism has been through politics, not memes.

European centre-left had hoped that the wind of change coming from the two ex-Commonwealth countries would have reached the shores of the old continent.

Canada + Australia + the spark rekindled with the UK over Ukraine (the ‘Coalition of the Willing’ - meh…) and Trump’s tariffs + Putin’s ‘friend’ Georgescu out of Romanian politics = a victory for the establishment in local and presidential elections in the UK and Romania – the average European calculated, while LOLing (or, even worse, engages in serious discussions) about Trump’s photo as the Pope.

But as the saying goes: “When Europe sees the light at the end of the tunnel, it’s the train coming.”

Reform UK, the party led by Nigel Farage, the quintessential Brexiter, secured a huge victory last Tuesday, winning most votes, most seats and securing control. The victory was so decisive that the growing chatter about the UK rejoining the EU—filling ever more columns in an already crowded press—vanished almost overnight.

In Romania, Georgescu's first-round score last year (22.9% or 2.1m votes) was overshadowed by George Simion’s landslide victory (41% or 3.9m votes), an EU-sceptic, right-wing nationalist candidate who wants to make ‘Romania Great Again’ and restore its 1940 borders – which include part of Moldovia and Ukraine.

Of course, both Nigel Farage and George Simion are steadfast fans of Donald Trump and his MAGA movement, just like Peter Dutton and Pierre Poilievre. So what’s different? Why does opposing Trump work in Canada and Australia but seem to fail so miserably here in Europe? I can think of two factors.

First, the idea of opposing a self-absorbed Goliath with Narcissus is quite bizarre. If you aim to counter Trump’s strategically motivated unfunny jokes and memes with similarly unfunny jokes and memes about him, without any hint of a political strategy, it’s not a recipe for success.

The second is the horrible suspicion that we don’t have much else to offer. Canada and Australia are both dynamic young economies, with GDP growth outperforming that of the EU more or less continuously since 2018. Their soil is rich in strategically important commodities: Canada and Australia have known reserves and resources of rare earth oxide estimated at over 15.2 and 5.2 million tonnes, respectively, of rare earth oxide in 2023, while in Europe, they are… well, really rare.

And while we Europeans are quick to extol the virtues of democracy, are we truly living up to its principles? Do we know how to steward this sacred inheritance, or are we increasingly resorting to dubious democratic practices, such as enlisting constitutional courts to eliminate political opponents? More broadly, what do we really have left to teach, if any critique of the European establishment is instantly dismissed as populism? Is the EU’s political track record so stellar that anyone who disagrees must be irrational?

Stop staring. Embrace real politics. Whether it’s too late or not, time will tell.