Munich, Germany – By Sunday morning, the Bayerischer Hof was running low on camomile tea.
And that’s about all one needs to know about the collective European psyche at the 61st edition of the Munich Security Conference, which convenes every February in the stuffy confines of the Bayerischer Hof, a once-grand hotel living, much like Europe itself, on the fumes of its past grandeur.
The profound anger and shock of the last five days, and Europeans’ nagging realisation that they would not be given even a folding chair at talks to end Russia’s war in Ukraine, had given way to a mood more typically encountered in an undertaker’s waiting room.
Those diplomats who remained in the hotel’s gilded halls on Sunday were still absorbing the news that Trump officials will start negotiations with Russia on a peace deal in Saudi Arabia next week.
“Before Wednesday, we still slept well, afterwards – well, not so much,” a Western European diplomat, a regular at the security gathering, said over coffee.
“The hangover is much worse this time than usual,” the diplomat added.
It is a leitmotif in Munich that those who are not present are the most talked about. Since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine just after the 2022 conference, that holds particularly true.
But rest assured: Putin is at least tuning in. Trump is more likely watching Fox.
Rendez-vous with Uncle Sam
Throughout the conference, Munich’s European contingent rolled its eyes at American preaching to Ukranians on the merits of ending the war. One official even had to be corrected multiple times for spouting falsehoods on how long the war has been raging.
But the power dynamic left no room for schadenfreude.
The Europeans’ biggest frustration was that they couldn’t even get a meeting with the Americans, who spent much of their time giving briefings and interviews to their domestic press pack.
“We really tried to get a rendez-vous with them,” one European delegation’s protocol officer said, “they were in very high demand and, for some of us, beyond our reach.”
The message was clear: For all Europe’s talking shops, the US feels it can listen when it feels like it.
“You Europeans like to talk and need a long time to come up with actual solutions,” an American security consultant at the Bayerischer Hof’s Falk Bar told us. “But Trump seems to have made up his mind already.”
In every crisis, an opportunity?
In the evenings, when carefully choreographed panel discussions gave way to alcohol-fuelled barstool chats, some delegates struck a different tone.
Beneath the surface-level exasperation at JD Vance’s tirade and a general unease at how Europe had become a spectator as its own fate was debated, Euractiv spoke with several diplomats who expressed a degree of relief that there was at last some movement towards peace – though they refused to admit so on the record.
Defence industry representatives, meanwhile, were more positive about their conference experience than in previous years.
War, after all, is good for business – at least in theory. For while crises can create opportunities, they can also lead to paralysis, aka the deer-in-the-headlights effect.
Defence contractors are waiting to see whether Trump’s ‘electroshock‘ to Europe will turn into unleashed defence spending and full order books.
They’d be well advised to order a pot of camomile while they wait.
*Aurélie Pugnet contributed reporting.
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