The lands lying between the Baltic and the Black Sea have had many names: the \u201cbloodlands\u201d\u009d of the second world war, the \u201ccaptive nations\u201d\u009d of the cold war, the \u201cex-communist\u201d\u009d countries of the post-Soviet era and, for many, the \u201cnew members\u201d\u009d of the European Union. Before the 2003 Iraq war, Donald Rumsfeld, America\u2019s defence secretary, praised \u201cnew Europe\u201d\u009d as pro-American, unlike \u201cold Europe\u201d\u009d (ie, France and Germany). The French president, Jacques Chirac, then chided the easterners as having \u201cmissed a great opportunity to keep quiet\u201d\u009d.<\/p>\n
The nomenclature must now change again, because of Ukraine. In its response to Vladimir Putin\u2019s revanchism, Mr Rumsfeld\u2019s new Europe is remarkably similar to the old one: divided roughly between north and south. Poland and the Baltic three are hawkish, believing that Russia has irrevocably changed the post-war order; Bulgaria and Hungary are among those opposed to tough sanctions who hope that business with Russia will somehow return to normal.<\/p>\n
This spectrum might be a welcome sign of normality, if only the stakes were not so high. The divisions of eastern Europe aggravate those of the EU as a whole. Nobody tells easterners to shut up any more; even France is wooing them. But if the countries closest to Russia, with direct experience of Soviet occupation, cannot agree on sanctions, why should others endanger their still-fragile economies?<\/p>\n