The following article is a slightly revised translation of an essay originally published in Italian as “La settimana che lascia un’Europa sconvolta,” in La Stampa on March 7, 2025. Translated by Gabriele Segre and Gabriel Noah Brahm.
This past March’s extraordinary meeting of the European Council concluded a week that may well go down in history as one of “diplomatic revolution.” Seven portentous days began symbolically the Friday before, with a live clash between Zelensky and Trump in the Oval Office, and continued with a whirlwind of events: from the positions taken by European and NATO partners during the London defense summit, to Washington’s decision to suspend military aid to Kyiv and the high-stakes meeting in Brussels. Each event underscores the rapid acceleration of an ongoing upheaval now reshaping the world as we knew it, auguring change on a scale matched only by the magnitude of Europe’s growing unease about it.
Setting emotions aside, the central question is how that pivotal week tangibly altered not only Ukraine’s fate but that of Europe as a whole. The answer is far from straightforward.
Rewriting decades of strategic and security arrangements on this side of the Atlantic will take far longer than the time it takes to sign an executive order in Washington. Especially when the plans of other global actors remain shrouded in uncertainty: no one knows how far Trump is willing to go or what Putin’s and Xi Jinping’s long-term goals truly are. Gambling on their intentions seems reckless, but the stakes are even higher for Europe: can it play a role on the stage of this unfolding global drama? And if it struggles to take center stage, will it at least secure a supporting role—or merely serve as the backdrop for others’ performances?
To assume any role at all, Europe must first decide what it wants. A tall order for a continent that, until now, has failed to articulate its objectives. No European nation desires to be embroiled in a war that has dragged on for over three years, accompanied by an energy crisis and soaring inflation. Yet beyond rhetorical commitments to a “just peace” and the supply of arms in America’s wake, the Union has offered no meaningful diplomatic initiative to end the conflict.
This impotence reflects a deeper crisis: it is evidence that Europe has lost the ability to engage in politics in its highest sense—as a creative tool to envision solutions beyond the boundaries of conventional logic. For too long, Europe has relied on the reason of data and statistics, ignoring that, however precise, rational calculations cannot fully grasp the unpredictability of human nature. We have forgotten that politics is not an exact science; it shares the same essence as art. Like music or painting, its ultimate purpose is to combine elements of our collective imagination, giving them new meaning in the creation of an original work. Politics is not nourished by numbers and necessities alone but by emotions, aspirations, and desires. When it succeeds, the outcome transcends the sum of its parts.
Trump, for all his reckless and dangerous “creativity,” is nevertheless engaging in politics. Europe, by contrast, has historically been so preoccupied with avoiding conflict that it sought refuge in a rigid framework of law and rules. In exchange for reassuring predictability, it relinquished its capacity for imagination. While this approach has been effective in preserving what we are, it is ill-suited to confront forces that no longer recognize such a system. In response to the Ukrainian crisis, Europe has relied on the only method it knows: calculating troop deployments and financial investments to maintain its peaceful existence. A cost-benefit equation that it hoped would yield a zero-sum balance, but which is increasingly excluding it from the dynamics of a world in constant flux.
To play a role in shaping the future, Europe must rediscover politics as the “art of imagination,” not merely the “science of control.” This shift may entail accepting the risk of conflict. War, of course, represents failure—the equivalent of discarding a canvas or tearing up a score. But the creative effort required remains preferable to the illusion of resolving an armed conflict through calculations and laws that no one is willing to abide by.
After all, art itself has never been immaculate or painless. Every great painter or musician knows that imagination demands the greatest effort—and risk. Yet they also know that such a process aims to leave a mark that endures beyond mere survival. In the same way, politics must take risks to build a lasting future.
There is no doubt that Trump is willing to take those risks. The question is, are we? How much imagination can Europe muster? And will we rise to the challenge, or remain content with a role as the stage upon which others play out their grand designs?
Topics: TPPI Translations • Reflections & Dialogues
Gabriele Segre is an expert in international relations, political culture, and leadership. Since 2018, he has served as the Director of the Vittorio Dan Segre Foundation, an international institution dedicated to fostering a culture of coexistence among diverse identities.