The High Representative for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy of the Union, Josep Borrell, found little success in his latest metaphor.
The Spanish socialist politician leans toward broad strokes rather than subtle nuance, often stepping into the headlines with a bold line or two.
On the same day, the Vice-President of the European Commission described Europe as a “garden,” contrasting it with the rest of the world and warning that it could become a forest that overruns the garden if vigilance wanes.
He later attempted to clarify his remarks during a speech at the Spanish College in Bruges, but the reactions from various governments suggested the message had already struck a raw chord.
Criticism did not just come from nations with a storied record on human rights; voices from places like Iran and the United Arab Emirates labeled the remarks as racist or colonial in spirit.
What was meant, apparently, was that Europe should keep a sharper eye on global events beyond its borders, lest the continent see itself overwhelmed by new pressures and challengers.
Europe may be a well-tended garden relative to certain regions, including parts of the United States, but for many there, the garden is overgrown with thorns and weeds, and access to justice and opportunity remains uneven.
Public services have faced strain, wealth remains unevenly distributed, youth anxiety has grown, and concerns about anti-democratic laws, judicial fairness, corruption, and revolving doors persist. These are not minor flaws but persistent, real problems.
Borrell’s analogy also invites reflection on Europe’s self-image and how it weighs its hard-won prosperity against its historical actions, particularly those that fueled wealth and power elsewhere.
One question lingers: could Europe have achieved much of its current status without the exploitative practices that historic and ongoing economic systems relied upon?
Should Europeans be reminded of the forced removal of more than ten million Africans to the Americas, an indictment of a past where human misery helped seed present affluence?
Should there be a reckoning over the seizure of wealth from other populations, often accompanied by the claim of offering religion and language as compensation?
Have Europeans, famed for progress and human rights, ever used moral justification to defend actions that harmed others, labeling them as necessary or civilizational progress?
Is progress sometimes a cloak for deeper biases, a lens that obscures the reality of racial or economic hierarchies?
Even today, Western corporations are accused of tapping Africa’s resources while propping up leaders who serve their interests, sometimes at the expense of local communities and workers. Critics point to profits that come with low wages, exploitation of child labor in some cases, or minimal pay that fails to lift people out of poverty, all under the banner of development or aid.
Debate continues over subsidies and policy frameworks that affect small farmers across African nations, questioning whether aid and policy truly empower local economies or instead sustain dependence on external markets.
There is no shortage of stark statements about history. In a moment of candor, Jacques Chirac admitted that Africa’s history left a painful mark on European fortunes, noting that without Africa, perspectives of progress would lack depth and context. This reminder underscores how intertwined global histories are with present circumstances.
Thus, Borrell’s metaphor did not land as a simple image; it prompted a broader reckoning with memory, responsibility, and the ongoing impact of Europe’s choices on a connected world. The debate continues, with implications for policy, ethics, and the future direction of the Union.