Why is it so cheap to insult European leaders?

In Russian, подсвинки (podsvinki) means little pigs, marranets, pigletsIt is the nickname that on Wednesday He used President Vladimir Putin to refer to the leaders of the European Union. The phrase, reread, is frightening and sets the tone for today's world: "Everyone thought they would quickly destroy Russia, and the European pigs banded together hoping to profit from our country's collapse, recover something lost in earlier periods, and try to get revenge."

10,100 kilometers to the west, at the Russified White House table, Trump confessed last week in an interview in Political the image he has of Europe. The sentence, reread, is also frightening."A group of declining nations led by weak people who want to be too politically correct."

This is not the first time that Putin and Trump, who share—among many other things—a deep distrust of the European Union and its significance, have hurled insults at the leaders of the bloc. These attacks are of a different nature. The Russian's attacks can even be understood within a political framework: they come from a leader whom Brussels has publicly declared a threat, and therefore a rival. since he invaded Ukraine by land, sea and air. The US president's words should be disconcerting: they come from Europe's most important ally, the guarantor of its security, and are the most palpable example of how the world around us has changed decisively and probably irreversibly.

All of this is a good metaphor for the existential challenge we Europeans are facing: what might the unpredictable pincer movement of the Trump-Putin duo lead to in Europe? Is strategic autonomy the only way to survive? The jungle that Josep Borrell warned about —perhaps not in the most careful way— does it really exist? To what extent is Europe prepared to walk without the hand of its American big brother? Would the European project withstand far-right governments in Germany and France, as the polls predict?

Last week I was reading an article by political scientists Robert E. Kelly and Paul Poast on the website Foreign Affairs in which they posed another crucial question: "How much abuse of power are America's allies willing to tolerate?" They were looking toward Europe.

So far, EU leaders They have unabashedly opted for a policy of genuflecting before the White House. In every foreign ministry, there have been express courses in diplomacy on how not to anger Trump, how to flatter him, and how to flatter him with only what he wants to hear. Mark Rutte, as NATO Secretary General, has earned top marks in almost every subject. The summer photo of Trump instructing European leaders and Zelensky in the Oval Office, or the image of the thumbs-up in Scotland after the shameful trade deal, are like picture poetry for the Republican leader.

The White House's displays of contempt have been escalating—the publication of the 2025 National Security Strategy is a major slap in the face—and Kelly and Poast's question is gaining urgency: how long will Europe remain silent in the face of Trump's attacks? Are European values being compromised by this lack of reaction? From some political circles—still a small minority—a letter to the King and Queen is calling for a stronger stance from the 27 member states against the disrespect shown by the US administration. This is a reasonable plea, given that every humiliation from Washington erodes the continent's democratic health and emboldens the far right allied with Trump. dangerous Trojan horses in community territory.

However, today in the capitals, the prevailing view is that the EU does not yet have enough power to change its tone towards the US. There is also a strong conviction that Trump's reaction, at a highly decisive and delicate moment, would be catastrophic for the continent's interests. At least, that is the message they project publicly. There is evidence that the discourse of prominent European figures is different when microphones are not around. Perhaps we will see a shift in public discourse after Christmas. awaiting, above all, a possible outcome in Ukraine.

For now, and despite the prevailing pessimism in Europe, irony remains. Like the irony used by a London protester in the photo at the top of this article. Or, more subtly, like the irony used by the President of the European Council, António Costa—one of the voices that, nevertheless, often try to evoke European pride—to respond to the White House's new security strategy: "If Europe isn't strong, why are so many people trying to bring it down?"