ASK some west Europeans why they disliked George Bush's America, and you will receive complaints about values and talk of American militarism and nationalism. You may hear Mr Bush accused of calling the European Union an ally but working to divide the block into friends and foes. Or you may get grumbles about anti-terrorist work undermining the rule of law. Foot-dragging on climate change might come up, or the power of Big Oil. So might social values: the religiosity of the Bushies, even their hostility to gay rights or their macho love of hunting.
Yet here is an odd thing. Those same “un-European” values can be observed in Vladimir Putin's Russia, but do not cause similar offence, at least in the chancelleries of western Europe. The EU leaders who clashed most with Mr Bush swooned over Mr Putin. Germany's Gerhard Schröder described the Russian as a “flawless democrat”. France's Jacques Chirac called Mr Putin a personal friend. (To be fair, Mr Bush himself started it all when he famously looked into Mr Putin's eyes in Ljubljana in 2001.)
Mr Bush is long gone. Mr Putin is Russia's prime minister alongside President Dmitry Medvedev. But the EU still hopes that Russia is ready for “partnership”. Charlemagne has just spent time in Moscow talking to political and business bigwigs. At such gatherings, topical pieties are observed. The fashion now is to fret about “global” governance, covering everything from protectionism to migration to climate change. In Russia the talk was of Russia: how it can get richer, how it can keep pumping oil and gas, how it can modernise its economy. A timid question about climate change prompted derision and talk of sub-zero temperatures outside. Emerging into the chilly streets, Charlemagne was hooted by hulking four-wheel drives. It felt like Texas, with snow.
What explains Europe's double standards over America and Russia? Partly, it is hypocrisy. The EU is Russia's biggest trade partner; in 2008, Russia was the EU's second market for exports. Partly, it is Russia's skill at playing on divisions within the block. But some of Europe's tolerance of Russia goes beyond this. Despite many disappointments and shocks, such as the 2008 war with Georgia, plenty of EU types still dream of transforming Russia. They once talked of Russia as a “strategic partner”. The new buzz phrase is a “modernisation partnership”. This vague idea is the EU's response to encouraging noises from Mr Medvedev about his country's need for modernisation, including greater respect for the rule of law. The “underlying assumption”, writes Katinka Barysch in a new paper for the Centre for European Reform, a London-based think-tank, is that EU capital, technology and training might make Russia “more Western-oriented, open and easier to deal with.”
Alas, everyone is talking at cross purposes. The EU hopes that modernisation means aligning Russia with the union's values and norms. For Russian officials, says Dmitri Trenin of the Carnegie Moscow Centre, modernisation means “Russia using its resources to buy assets in Europe, and Europe supplying Russia with technology.” In EU circles, there is much cheery talk of soft power and “people to people contacts”, including Russian billionaires heading to western Europe to buy homes, educate children, consult doctors or hide their loot. This may be wishful thinking. Enjoying a place's pleasures is not the same as embracing its values. Rich men rarely seek lessons in ethics from their butlers or their bankers.
Vladimir Chizhov, Russia's clever and acerbic ambassador to the EU, wonders what European values really are. He offers an answer: respect for human dignity in a multi-confessional, multicultural society. Russia has operated such a society “for 1,000 years”, he asserts. It may have things to learn from the EU, he says, but he rejects any idea that “the European Union equals Europe”.
Where does the EU have leverage? Funnily enough, the answer lies in those same pesky values. Start with intra-EU solidarity. Poland and Russia get on better now than for a long time, with Russia dropping a ban on Polish meat imports and Poland unblocking EU-Russia talks on co-operation. Mr Putin has invited his Polish counterpart, Donald Tusk, to ceremonies to mark the 70th anniversary of the Katyn massacre, when the Soviets murdered over 20,000 Polish officers. Relations changed at an EU-Russia summit in May 2007, says a senior European politician. Russia was surprised when the EU, led by Germany's Angela Merkel, stood by Poland over the meat ban. “Russia realised it had to deal with Poland and repair relations,” he says.
Then there is the area where the EU really does enjoy soft power, its neighbourhood. A decade ago, Russia took a relaxed view of EU enlargement, even to former Warsaw Pact countries, says Mr Trenin. The mantra was “anything but NATO”; and hostility to NATO was about America, not about Europe.
Nowadays, diplomats detect a chill in Russian attitudes to EU projects in its backyard, especially the “eastern partnership” with Armenia, Azerbaijan, Belarus, Georgia, Moldova and Ukraine. This impression is bolstered by Alexander Grushko, a deputy foreign minister. Russia wants a say before any “rapprochement” between the EU and countries like Ukraine, he says. Projects such as visa liberalisation or energy links must not make former Soviet republics “choose” between the EU and Russia. “The EU should not move ahead with projects in the eastern partnership that are not also the fruit of Russia-EU dialogue.”
Europe should take such hostility as a compliment. Bringing ex-Soviet republics into a rules-based system would challenge the bleakness of Putinism. It will be hard. But Europe's values are a source of its strengths. To play to them, Europe must be clearer-eyed about who shares its values—and who does not.