Our media feeds have been flooded with reports of a deepening rift between Europe and the U.S. In the midst of dramatic fluctuations in peace-making efforts for Ukraine and Russia, there is a disturbing sense of anti-American sentiment in Europe. But in certain profound ways, Europe loves — and has long loved — America.
Across cultures and age groups, Europeans have admired the American experiment since its founding, aspired to American standards, and envied American power — individual wealth, societal liberties, and political and military might. There is, of course, an enduring streak of rejection, or at least a longstanding sense of incompatibility. Victorian novelist Charles Dickens famously disliked American culture for what he perceived as its gregariousness, sensationalism and pursuit of pleasure; in the more recent past, the anti-Hollywood stance of Europe’s film industry led to decades-long subsidies for European cultural products such as French cinema.
But any such example can be countered with evidence of pro-American sentiment. There is an equally enduring and uniquely impressive track record of admiration and love for America.
Nineteenth-century French diplomat Alexis de Toqueville’s “Democracy in America,” for example, is not just a staple of political writing but also one of the most compelling expressions of admiration for the American spirit. In the 19th century and early decades of the last century, America saw mass immigration from across Europe at an unprecedented scale — over 30 million people leaving Europe for America, drawn by economic opportunity, ideals of freedom and happiness, and the promise of a better life. And not so long ago, before the fall of the Berlin wall, American-funded Radio Free Europe was a spirit-saving beacon of hope for millions of Europeans in Soviet Bloc countries.
Yes, there is friction now between the U.S. and European Union countries, but Europe is not the European Union. The EU project is relatively young, and has already morphed multiple times since its 1951 beginnings as the European Coal and Steel Community. Having grown from 10 to 27 member states, the EU maintains peace, cooperation and economic integration as its objectives, but its detractors (including from within the EU) see it as an overly bureaucratic entity threatening the sovereignty of its members. America’s centuries-long relationship with Europe far outshines that with the EU; it is rooted in storied bilateral relations with individual European countries, and lives in the minds and hearts of individuals living across Europe and the U.S.
As importantly, this is not the first time that friction ensued between any number of European countries and the U.S.
History provides many examples of overcome friction. The 1956 Suez crisis temporarily soured relations between Eisenhower’s U.S. and our allies, Britain and France, in the aftermath of Washington publicly censoring London and Paris. Some in the United Kingdom, and particularly in France, blamed U.S. influence for the unraveling of their overseas empires; some openly gloated as the U.S. sank into the quagmire of Vietnam, from which they believed the U.S. had ousted them. As another example, in the late 1970s, President Carter’s plan to deploy intermediate-range ballistic missiles in Europe as a way to pressure the Soviets was met with massive opposition in Germany, yet U.S.-German relations eased a few years later.
Time and again tensions rose between Europe and the U.S. under both Republican and Democratic administrations, and they eased in due course with diplomatic efforts and changing geopolitical contexts.
An era which is not spoken of often these days on either sides of the Atlantic and the Pacific is the aftermath of the breakup of the Soviet Union. If one takes the classic definition of Europe — from the Atlantic Ocean to the Ural Mountains — then this era could be said to have been the apotheosis of pro-American sentiment in (Eastern) European eyes.
Having worked in the ex-USSR at the time, one of us can bear personal witness to the adoration many Russians — yes, Russians — showed Americans, not to speak of citizens of other “captive nations.” Many Russians of that day believed themselves to have been held captive by the Communist USSR and viewed America as their liberators. It was not uncommon to be hugged on a Moscow street by a complete stranger if they found out you were American.
Those days are obviously gone, as the timeless cycle of Russian Westernizers versus Slavophiles has taken yet another turn. Tuning into Russian media these days, one is struck by the extreme anti-American bitterness precisely of former Westernizers. Yet the cycle will likely turn again in the future, as cycles are wont to do.
The ties between Europe and America run much deeper than the war in Ukraine. The current display of strength by the U.S. can help reaffirm the underlying reasons for which Europeans look up to America. By calling attention to the key role it plays in military and financial support for Europe, the U.S. is reminding the world — and European countries in particular — that America is, by choice, extending its leadership and resources in the service of peace, democratic rule and economic sustainability. In responding to U.S. demands, Europe carrying its own weight can lead to a renewal of bonds and an increased awareness that we all have skin in the game.
This does not stop at needs, such as ensuring security and building prosperity. A renewal of vows between Europe and the U.S. is also, as importantly, about identity — kinship of values (as asserted by Vice President Vance in his speech at the Munich Security Conference last month), healthy competition among aspiring peers, and a sense of belonging in a storied transnational bond.
Sonia Coman, Ph.D., co-authored “New Directions in Organizational and Management History” and has taught a course on ceramics as diplomatic gifts at Columbia University. Tatiana C. Gfoeller a former U.S. diplomat who served as U.S. ambassador to the Kyrgyz Republic, has taught political science at Georgetown University.
