Berlin’s foreign ministry is in a state of high dudgeon this morning, having suffered a crushing defeat at the UN Security Council. A UK-backed resolution, which gained surprising traction, has left the Germans sputtering accusations of Russian sabotage. One might laugh, were the stakes not so high. But let us not mistake the symptoms for the disease. This is not merely a diplomatic spat. This is the sound of a post-historical illusion shattering against the rocks of realpolitik.
Germany, that most comfortable of European nations, has spent decades convincing itself that the world runs on rules, not power. It has elevated multilateralism to a secular religion, complete with rituals, saints (Angela Merkel), and a devil (Vladimir Putin). And now, when its sacred text is ignored, it reacts with the moral outrage of a Victorian missionary whose Bible has been tossed into the sea by savages. “Russia did it!” they cry. Perhaps. But Russia could not have done it without the quiet complicity of allies who have grown tired of German moralism.
The UK, ever the pragmatist, knows that the UN is a theatre, not a judiciary. Its resolution was a masterstroke: a reminder that international law is what the powerful can enforce. Germany, by contrast, expected the Security Council to behave like a polite Bundestag committee. It forgot that the UN’s favourite game is not diplomacy but power projection. Its defeat was not a failure of law but a failure of nerve.
Let us compare this to the fall of the Weimar Republic. No, I am not suggesting tanks are rolling through Berlin. But the parallels are instructive. Weimar Germany was a republic of idealists who believed treaties and institutions could tame the wolves. They were devoured. Today’s Germany is a nation of proceduralists who think process can substitute for will. It cannot. When the Bundestag sends its diplomats to New York, it expects them to be treated as guests of honour at a globalised salon. Instead, they find themselves in a gladiatorial arena.
The Anglosphere understands this. The UK, US, and even Canada (despite its own vanities) know that power must be wielded, not merely invoked. Germany’s problem is that it cannot decide whether it wants to be a great power or a great conscience. It tries to be both and achieves neither. Its economic might is undeniable, but it remains a political pygmy because it refuses to admit that the world is still a Hobbesian jungle, not a Kantian paradise.
And so we have this spectacle: a furious Germany blaming Russia for its own naivety. It is like a man who walks into a bear pit carrying a picnic basket and then screams foul when the bear eats him. The bear is just being a bear. Russia is just being Russia. The tragedy is that Germany expects the bear to read the UDHR before it bites.
What is to be done? Either Germany continues on its current path, becoming ever more frustrated as the world refuses to conform to its fantasies, or it finally grows up. It can join the ranks of nations that understand that the UN is a tool, not a temple. It can learn from the British that resolutions must be backed by resolve, not just sentiment. Or it can retreat into a petulant fortress of moral superiority, tut-tutting at the vulgar realities of international relations.
For now, the latter seems more likely. The German response has all the hallmarks of a nation that has mistaken its preferences for principles. It will blame Russia, blame the British, blame Brexit, blame the fading memory of the Cold War. Anything but itself. But the world is moving on. The Security Council’s vote was a verdict not just on a resolution but on the German worldview. It was found wanting. The question is: will Berlin notice, or will it keep building its sandcastles while the tide comes in?
The Fall of Rome did not happen overnight. It began with a civilisation that forgot how to defend its interests, that mistook process for power, that believed the barbarians could be shamed into civility. Germany is not Rome, but it is repeating Rome’s mistakes. The only difference is that Rome had centuries to decline. In our accelerated age, Germany has perhaps a decade. Let us hope it uses the time wisely.
