Eamon Dyas    

 Small states of the European Union are in a peculiar postion. The large more powerful states relate to the world differently and their interests manifest different priorities. That was not a problem for the EU when the more powerful states were tied to Russia through their manufacturing activities’ reliance on cheap energy. However, that relationship was systematically unravelled by the way in which the EU Commission succeeded in abolishing the sovereignty which member states previously exercised over their energy supply and distribution networks. This was done under the screen of concocted security concerns and conservation considerations – both of which it was claimed required a centralised approach. 

Once that was achieved it represented a victory for US interests – which had been particularly opposed to the relationship of German manufacturing with Russian energy. But by removing Europe’s relationship with Russian energy the EU Commission also removed the most important component that guaranteed peace in Europe. 

After the EU Commission had succeeded in disrupting Europe’s natural economic progress by severing its economic relationship with Russia it left the road open for US geopolitical interests to take charge. While the EU Commission had proved to be very adept at expanding and using its regulatory powers in the commercial arena beyond the issue of climate change conservation arguments it lacked a wider foreign policy perspective that could have, to some extent, mitigated US dominance in this area. And as a body that had never been designed to play such a role, Europe ended up in a situation where what was left of its post-war capacity to formulate an independent foreign policy via its member states never had a chance. It never had a chance because such a policy required both Germany and France recognising where their interests lay in terms of Russian energy and an ability to assert it in the context of US opposition. 

Whatever opportunity there may have been for this to emerge was thwarted by British influence over European developments at a critical juncture. With the main component states of the EU being overwhelmingly post- war constructions they ended up relying on what they believed to be the “wise old head” of Britain as their guide in the realm of foreign policy and as a result were blinded to the political implications of Tony Blair’s EU expansion eastwards in May 2004. 

This represented the largest single enlargement wave of new EU members but because it included the Baltic countries and ex-Soviet bloc countries it was guaranteed to introduce a significant element of anti-Russian sentiment into the EU’s political atmosphere – something that was also facilitated by the way that these states had joined NATO just over a month earlier. It’s inconceivable that the likes of Germany and France were unaware of the threat to Europe’s peace that such membership represented at the time. Those countries’ membership of NATO represented a most flagrant breach of the promise that NATO would not move eastwards which Russia understood was part of it agreeing to German unification in 1990. 

In agreeing to them joining the EU in May 2004 just over a month after they had become NATO members it may be that Germany and France had believed they had tied those countries to the peaceful evolution of Europe that was evolving on the basis of their economic relationship with Russia. If that was the case it was something that was blind to the way in which the US was advancing its policies in Europe. 

Then, in 2008, with the US sponsoring the NATO membership of Georgia and Ukraine the EU countries could no longer ignore the way in which the US was interfering in Europe’s peace. But their response proved just how inept they were at protecting the peace of Europe. Instead of vetoing such membership the only thing that Germany and France did was to impose conditions on such membership that merely delayed such membership and in the process left the issue as an open sore on their relationship with Russia that could continue to be exploited by the US. 

With the removal of Europe’s energy relationship with Russia the political ineptitude on the part of the EU in the face of US interference in Europe led eventually to it becoming an active partner in that interference to the point that Germany acquiesced firstly in the revelation in 2015 that the US National Security Agency had been tapping its Chancellor’s phone conversations for decades (see: 

It is in that context that the latest move by Germany (see below) has to be viewed. 

Germans pitch EU plan to circumvent national vetoes

Countries should abstain rather than block initiatives they do not support

With Viktor Orbán’s veto now gone, a group of EU countries has proposed a plan to avoid a single country’s veto from blocking the pipes in Brussels in future.

Germany is leading a push for a greater use of abstentions and a more creative interpretation of the EU’s treaties, according to a draft letter to Kaja Kallas, seen by Euractiv. 

Berlin has long advocated abolishing the principle by which all foreign policy decisions, such as sanctions on Russia, must be decided unanimously by all 27 countries. That irks smaller countries, who see unanimity as a potential lifeline.

“We must also ensure that this culture of consensus fosters common action rather than preventing it, otherwise we will have legitimacy but no strength,” the German letter reads, also supported by the Netherlands, Luxembourg and France.

The letter, due to be sent to Kallas ahead of a meeting of foreign minister in Wicklow on Wednesday, proposes greater use of constructive abstentions, existing qualified-majority procedures and tighter limits on governments invoking national-policy objections.

Calls to only require a qualified majority to take foreign policy decisions have gained momentum as EU governments confront an increasingly unstable geopolitical environment, alongside a growing number of instances in which individual countries have leveraged their veto power to block or delay EU decisions.

Last week Slovenia stopped the EU from issuing a unified statement criticising the Israeli government’s move to break the West Bank by building settlements in the E1 area, as defined by international law.

Hungary, under Orbán, repeatedly using its leverage over EU decisions to extract concessions, including guarantees over the Druzhba oil pipeline. Under Péter Magyar, Budapest has also blocked Ukraine from making enlargement progress.

Where QMV applies to a foreign policy decision, the countries acknowledge that governments can oppose it for “vital and stated reasons of national policy,” but call for those objections to be clearly justified.

Countries should avoid linking together “substantially unrelated” issues, the letter states, and should raise concerns early enough to allow time for consultation and compromise.

Editor’s note:

The origin of the discussion was the People’s Movement’s comments on Iceland refusing to restart talks on joining the EU:

The incomprehension of Irish europhiles at Iceland’s decisive rejection of European Union membership talks reveals a fundamental unwillingness to confront the historical record and undemocratic character of the European integration project.

When 52.8% of Icelandic voters rejected the government’s proposal to reopen accession negotiations, the reaction from europhile quarters in Dublin—where the EU has been elevated to near-religious status—has been one of bewilderment. How could a prosperous, progressive Nordic nation choose to remain outside the club that Ireland embraced so enthusiastically?

The answer lies in a history that Irish europhiles have chosen to forget.

Icelanders probably observed what happened to Ireland—a small country that voted “No” to the Nice Treaty in 2001 and was made to vote again until it delivered the “correct” result. They witnessed Ireland’s rejection of the Lisbon Treaty in 2008, only to be forced into a second referendum in 2009, when economic pressure and manipulation secured the required “Yes.” What kind of “union” disregards the expressed will of its citizens and demands they vote until they comply?

Irish europhiles, in their incomprehension, fail to acknowledge the institutional realities that Icelanders understood all too well.

The European Commission—the body with exclusive right to propose legislation—is composed of unelected officials who swear allegiance not to their countries but to the EU. Charles de Gaulle described it as “a conclave of technocrats without a country, responsible to nobody.”

The Council of Ministers makes laws in secret, with approximately 85% of EU directives agreed privately in committees of civil servants. It is responsible collectively to nobody—the classical definition of an oligarchy.

The European Parliament, for all its democratic pretensions, cannot initiate any EU law. It can only amend draft laws that come from the Commission and Council. This is not a parliament in any meaningful sense.

And the Court of Justice has become a constitution-maker, interpreting treaties in ways that extend EU powers beyond what was agreed, ruling that EU law has primacy over national constitutions.

Icelanders weighed these realities against the modest benefits of EU membership. They recognised that the fisheries sector—a pillar of their economy and national identity—would be placed at risk. Ninety percent of companies in the industry opposed joining the bloc.

The EU’s conciliatory approach on fisheries in the lead-up to the vote was treated with appropriate scepticism. Icelanders had seen how “solemn declarations” and “creative solutions” in Brussels often prove worthless once the treaty is signed. They understood what the Irish have learned through bitter experience: that the EU’s promises are written in disappearing ink. Icelanders recognised this pattern. And they refused to become its next victim. They see the “Solemn Declaration” that was supposed to guarantee Irish military neutrality—the Triple Lock—subsequently written out of history by Ireland’s political establishment. 

The Icelandic vote is not exceptional—it is part of a consistent, continent-wide pattern. Every time the European project has been submitted to democratic judgment, it has been rejected:

Switzerland, 1992 — rejected EEA membership

Norway, 1994 — rejected EU membership

Denmark, 2000 — rejected the euro

Sweden, 2003 — rejected the euro

France and Netherlands, 2005 — rejected the EU Constitution

Greece, 2015 — rejected EU austerity (only to be forced to accept it anyway)

United Kingdom, 2016 — rejected EU membership

This is not a series of unfortunate accidents. This is a consistent pattern: when the decision is left to citizens, the European Union is rejected. That is why in Brussels they prefer to make decisions away from the democratic process.

Ireland’s experience with the EU should have served as a warning to smaller nations. The Lisbon Treaty gave the EU full legal personality for the first time, primacy over national law, and population-based voting that reduced small countries like Ireland to under 1% of voting weight each.

The six largest EU states now have over 70% of the voting weight in the Council, while the 22 smallest have less than 30%. Small countries have not “pooled” sovereignty to gain influence—they have surrendered sovereignty to become provinces of a German-dominated empire.

The Icelandic vote represents a clear-eyed assessment of what EU membership truly entails. It is not about “opening out to the world” it is about an accelerating surrender of democratic self-government to unelected technocrats.

Irish europhiles who cannot comprehend Iceland’s choice are those who have willingly blinded themselves to history. They refuse to acknowledge that the EU’s problems are not caused by a lack of integration—they are caused by supranational integration itself.

The history of European integration is not a story of progress toward peace and prosperity. It is a story of democratic subversion, of elites who learned to despise the people they claimed to serve, of the systematic erosion of the most fundamental right of any democracy: the right of a people to govern themselves.

Icelanders understood this. Their “No” vote was not a rejection of Europe—it was a defence of democracy.

The incomprehension of Irish europhiles is evidence of how deeply the EU’s anti-democratic culture has corrupted political discourse in its member states, creating a class of elites who have abandoned the very principles they claim to want to defend.