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Hoping for a 'Drunken Brussels' is Suicide.

Очікування на П'яний Брюссель — шлях до самознищення.

It is now 2026, and Kaja Kallas, perhaps unwittingly, delivered the best epilogue to the era of 'liberal optimism'. If the head of EU diplomacy advises MEPs in an informal conversation to 'start drinking', it is no joke—it is a confession of bankruptcy.

 

The 1939 Syndrome: Lethargy Ends in a Hangover.

Recall Chamberlain or Gamelen. They believed until the end that the world could be held together by the paper props of treaties. Kallas is the face of the 'new Europe' that attempted to play tough but suddenly found itself in a room where Trump is taking Greenland, Iran is ablaze, and US Marines are landing in Venezuela. 'Start drinking' is the reaction of someone who has realized that Brussels is no longer a player, but a backdrop. While the 'guarantors' discuss a bouquet of wine, real Players are reshaping the world map with steel.

 

Geopolitics of the 'Big Deal' vs Glass Diplomacy.

Why did she say this right now? Because against the backdrop of meetings between the Danes with Vance and Rubio regarding Greenland, Europe has finally realized its subjective poverty. For Trump, the EU is not an ally, but a burdensome asset that needs either to be restructured or written off.

Kallas senses that Washington and Beijing's (or Moscow's) 'Big Deal' will not just proceed without Brussels' participation, but at its expense. When you have no relevant resources (neither military nor economic), you are left with only anesthesia.

Blinded by Reality.

For decades, Europe has lived in 'digital silence', believing that trade and values are the best armor. But January 2026 has come, and it has become clear that the world is still a territory of power. Kallas acknowledges: the EU's toolkit is empty. The sanctions against Iran that she proposes are like trying to extinguish a fire in the Middle East with a teaspoon. Kallas' smile is the smile of Benes in Munich, who understands that tomorrow his country will be divided, and he will be offered a 'good moment' to fade into the shadows.

When the empire's elite starts joking about alcohol in the moment of an existential crisis, it means they have no solutions.

Ahead is 'Strange War' 2.0, where old Europe will try to save face as the new reality breaks it over its knee.

For us, this is an extra confirmation: hoping for a 'drunken Brussels' is suicide. Our sovereignty is our success and resilience, not sympathetic toasts in the European Parliament.