HE IS the Duracell Bunny of diplomacy. This month Emmanuel Macron hopped back from a three-day trip to west Africa, then bounded through visits to Algeria and Qatar. In Paris he received Israel’s prime minister, Binyamin Netanyahu, to discuss peace prospects for the Middle East. Then the French president hosted a climate jamboree on December 12th, two years after the Paris deal (see article). A day later, more summitry: he led a group of “G5” African leaders in talks on fighting terrorists in the Sahel and beyond.

Mr Macron was a relative newcomer to foreign policy when he became president in May, but his appetite for it is large. He says, unapologetically, that France must be “ambitious” in the wider world and become “a great power again”. His efforts are at times mostly theatrical, such as when he hosted Donald Trump for Bastille Day celebrations in July. But he talks with a sense of mission, arguing that liberal, democratic European countries are duty-bound to oppose authoritarians and address complex global problems together, even if old allies, notably America under Mr Trump, opt for isolationism.

Such activity appeals to many French voters, after years of national economic decline matched by dwindling international clout. A poll this month suggested that 73% of respondents like the way Mr Macron represents them abroad, far more than support his efforts to reform the economy at home.

Does his activism amount to something substantial? Other new presidents showed similar rushes of interest in world affairs, before disappointment set in. Nicolas Sarkozy, early in his term, proposed a “union for the Mediterranean” and put himself forward as a Middle Eastern peacemaker. Neither effort bore fruit. He and François Hollande readily used military force, for example in bombing Libya. In Syria, France first opposed the government of Bashar al-Assad, but then failed to act decisively. Mr Macron calls actions in both those countries “cruel failures”.

Two elements appear different today. One is context. Mr Macron stands on a remarkably empty field, alone as a Western leader with some diplomatic and military clout who seeks a bigger international role. Britain’s preoccupation with Brexit has diminished its influence. German leaders are also distracted and anyway enjoy limited influence beyond Europe. “France is filling a vacuum,” says François Heisbourg, a security analyst in Paris.

The second factor is his personality. “He is a talented, charming opportunist, able to size up people and build personal relations,” argues Adam Plowright, a presidential biographer. He points to Mr Macron’s skilful extraction last month of Saad Hariri from Saudi Arabia, where Lebanon’s leader was, in effect, being held captive by his hosts. The intervention let the Saudis save face. Mr Macron may now feel emboldened to try more such mediation.

France has capital to spend, especially in the Middle East, argues Emile Hokayem of the International Institute for Strategic Studies. Mr Macron is vocal, ready to break with old practice (for example in his gambit in offering to visit Iran) and can draw on France’s historic ties in the region. But Mr Hokayem warns against exaggerated expectations of the sort that were (briefly) associated with Mr Sarkozy.

After all, France’s military might has not increased under Mr Macron. “He can start discussions, but he realises that the Americans have the muscle,” says Mr Hokayem. France can help in crisis management or de-escalating problems, as with Mr Hariri, but Mr Macron must ultimately recognise that “what matters is getting Americans on board,” he suggests.

Mr Macron’s most important role, therefore, is probably as Europe’s only leader to enjoy a good relationship with Mr Trump. The two presidents publicly disagree on matters of substance, for example over climate change or America’s recognition of Jerusalem as Israel’s capital. But they click at a personal level, speaking frequently, bonding over mutual experiences as political outsiders who recently stormed to high office. That should help.