Nothing screams “great power” like an aircraft-carrier. And so on October 10th Thierry Breton, the European commissioner hailing from France, raised the idea of the EU availing itself of such a seafaring airbase. Alas, even before the merits of a floating jet-launcher for a bloc with neither navy nor air force could be considered, the EU’s geopolitical ambitions fared as poorly as a plane lurching off the deck and into the drink. In the days around Mr Breton’s flight of fancy, a fumbled response to the terrorist attacks in Israel on October 7th left Europe looking muddled. A union that had found its foreign-policy voice over Ukraine has rediscovered its penchant for cacophony. A bout of chaotic diplomacy and internal squabbling has set back the cause of a “geopolitical EU” to match China and America.

Europe’s response to the crisis started off badly and got steadily worse. Beyond the usual lighting-up of buildings in the colours of whichever country is mourning its dead, the first reaction of note to come out of Europe was the announcement that the EU would suspend all development aid to Palestinians—a serious move, considering the bloc is their largest donor. The policy was reversed the very same day amid rising concerns in national capitals about the living conditions of innocent Gazans caught up in the fighting. Later in the week, on October 13th, the commission’s boss, Ursula von der Leyen, travelled to Israel. The message she delivered there was dutifully sympathetic. But national capitals fumed that she had failed to emphasise their concern that any response from the Israeli side needs to keep within the boundaries of international law. Government after government briefed that she was speaking not for the EU, merely for herself. As the furore mounted, Mrs von der Leyen’s team speedily announced that the EU’s humanitarian aid to Gaza was to be tripled.

The war in Ukraine had given the EU a measure of geopolitical swagger. In the face of war, the club had found new means to be relevant, for example by paying for arms to be sent to hit back at Russian invaders. That kind of unified resolve now looks like a one-off. Attempts at forging a coherent response to a crisis just beyond its shores have been caught up in bickering between national capitals and even between different EU institutions in Brussels. Far from projecting power to the outside world, European politicians have instead looked within: a virtual meeting of 27 national leaders was arranged on October 17th to get everyone on the same page, which was not Mrs von der Leyen’s. A fraught personal relationship between her and Charles Michel, who as European Council president chairs meetings of EU leaders, used to be the stuff of the Brussels cocktail circuit. Now it looks as if it made the bloc even more impotent than it might otherwise have been.

The episode is damaging for Mrs von der Leyen, who since the war in Ukraine had been the face of a more forceful, geopolitical Europe. Her influence—and that of the EU—seemed to extend beyond Ukraine. A speech she gave in March calling for a “de-risking” rather than a “decoupling” of economic relations with China had set a new tone in the relationship there; she has worked closely with America, too. New buzz phrases like “strategic autonomy” and “Team Europe” had hinted at the bloc playing its full part in geopolitics, a third power in a bipolar world.

But in trying to project a similarly forceful EU in the Middle East, the unity that underpinned Europe’s previous efforts was lacking. Some countries in Europe, notably Mrs von der Leyen’s native Germany, align instinctively with Israel, and emphasise its right to defend itself. But others, such as Spain and Ireland, are more closely attuned to the plight of Palestinians, and warn of an impending humanitarian disaster. Many simply felt the dispute was beyond the paygrade of the EU’s central institutions. Ukraine united the continent: European leaders jointly visited Kyiv after the city beat back Russian attackers last year. This latest crisis divides it. This week the German chancellor, Olaf Scholz, travelled to Israel alone. France’s Emmanuel Macron is considering a later trip.

Mrs von der Leyen might have sensed that conflict in the Middle East was always going to be uniquely polarising. Israel is both close enough for Europe to care about—its scientists benefit from EU funding schemes, Israeli football teams play in European competitions and its crooners participate in the Eurovision Song Contest—yet too remote for a conflagration there to feel directly threatening. Every EU country has its own relationship with the region, coloured by their Muslim and Jewish populations. Most fear a spillover of the violence onto their own streets. Anti-Semitic incidents in Europe have flared since the Hamas strike; France and Belgium have both endured terrorist attacks. Others fret that a regional conflagration could result in a new wave of migration to Europe, as happened after wars in Syria and Afghanistan.

Eyeless in Gaza

Divided or otherwise, it is unlikely Europe would have had much sway on Israel’s response to being attacked. But its impotence is starting to look serial. The EU for years painted itself as a mediator in a territorial dispute pitting Azerbaijan against Armenia, yet could do little but meekly protest when Azerbaijan turfed tens of thousands of Armenians out of a disputed enclave last month. A deal with Tunisia to help cut migration across the Mediterranean has floundered: Tunisia returned €60m ($63m) the EU had paid it to seal the agreement. Even closer to home, disorder reigns as Kosovo and Serbia keep tussling despite entreaties from Brussels.

The EU’s fans hoped that its impressive response to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine had exorcised a set of demons which have long haunted it: that it is a construct perfectly adept at standardising phone chargers and making farmers rich, but one that scarcely matters when it comes to high politics. A fortnight of disunion has made the EU look as plodding as ever: a club that does not shape geopolitics so much as endure its effects. ■

Read more from Charlemagne, our columnist on European politics:
How rugby became a darling of Europe’s chauvinist right (Oct 12th)
Europe is stuck in a need-hate relationship with migrants (Oct 4th)
The definition of Europe has always been both inspiring and incoherent (Sep 27th)

Also: How the Charlemagne column got its name