AFTER the butchering of soldiers in the first world war and of civilians in the second, one should not be too hard on Europeans—especially Germans—for losing their love of killing. Post-war Europe is, increasingly, past wars. To judge from the parliamentary vote in Britain and the debate in France over military action in Syria, even the more martial countries are now less warlike. Yet pacifism can be too much of a good thing. When news of the chemical-weapons attacks in Syria broke on August 21st, European foreign ministers were holding an emergency meeting in Brussels. The gassing of civilians was barely discussed; the topic of the day was the military coup in Egypt. Eurocrats claimed that information was too scant; cynics said many ministers wanted to ignore the horror lest they were forced to act.

The European Union only formally got around to Syria on September 7th, at a long-planned meeting in Vilnius, after an embarrassing flip-flop by Germany. The day before the Germans had refused to sign a declaration by Western leaders at the G20 summit demanding “a strong international response”. They reversed course when a softer version, with an exhortation for UN action and peace talks, was agreed on in Vilnius. Angela Merkel, the German chancellor, clearly did not want a repeat of 2011, when she was isolated among Western leaders in rejecting military intervention in Libya. But nor did she want, just before a German election, to allow the Social Democrats to repeat their feat of 2002, when Gerhard Schröder came from behind to win the election partly by strongly opposing military intervention in Iraq. The odd thing is that nobody has even asked Germany, or most other Europeans, to take part in strikes against Syria. Only Britain and France have the wherewithal to fire cruise missiles from a safe distance. There was no pressure to arm the rebels, a cause of previous divisions. Yet still the Europeans havered.

All of which raises questions about Europe’s declared wish to be a “global player”. The Arab world is where the EU should make its influence felt. Thanks to its growing energy independence America may one day feel less burdened by the region. Not so Europe: the Middle East is next door. France and Britain took the lead in Libya (with much American help). But for Jan Techau, director of Carnegie Europe, a think-tank in Brussels, the vacillation over the chemical attacks in Syria shows that “the Europeans have never been able to get out of the passenger seat to become the driver—and silently they are quite happy with that.”

For decades the Middle East has been a region where, as an old cliché puts it, “America plays, Europe pays”. This remains true in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The EU is a huge financial supporter of the Palestinian Authority. But it was the Americans who got the two sides to start talking again. Now the EU stands accused by Israel of prejudging the talks by issuing formal guidelines to prevent any funding of projects in territories that were occupied by Israel in 1967.

When the Arab spring began in 2010, the EU thought it had something special to offer: its experience of helping the democratisation of eastern Europe. Its strategy was based on the “three Ms” of money, markets and mobility and a principle known as “more for more”. The more Arab countries democratised, the more Europe would support them financially, open its market and facilitate visas for students, businessmen and workers. Two years on, only Morocco has started negotiating a “deep and comprehensive” free-trade deal with the EU.

The European offer is also less generous than advertised. In the midst of its economic crisis, the EU has little money to offer, southern members want to keep out cheap agricultural imports and nobody wants more migrants from poor countries. The states of eastern Europe were driven by their hopes of joining the club. No such prospect is open to southern neighbours. To some in the Arab world, the EU’s conditionality is an affront not an incentive, especially when the likes of Saudi Arabia and Qatar are offering far more money with fewer strings attached.

Weak, but still there

The Americans cannot claim to have done much better in nursing Arab democracy. It is unclear how far any outsider can influence events. For one Eurocrat, the Arab spring is not a replay of the fall of communism in 1989, as some hoped, but more like Europe’s messy revolutions of 1848. And the EU has, for now, made itself part of the diplomacy. Cathy Ashton, the much-criticised EU foreign-policy chief, speaks to the American secretary of state, John Kerry, more often than other European foreign ministers do. She leads the negotiations with Iran over its nuclear programme. And she is the only foreigner to have seen Egypt’s deposed president, Muhammad Morsi, after his imprisonment.

Too often the EU’s highest ambition is to speak with “a single voice”, even if only to issue a mouse-like squeak. And yet the world still cares something for what the Europeans say and do. The Americans turn to Europe when they need friends (Mr Kerry flew to Vilnius to lobby EU ministers). Syria’s Bashar al-Assad busily woos European opinion to try to avert military strikes. The Israeli foreign ministry has conducted an internal inquiry to find out who failed to spot the EU’s new guidelines. Egypt’s factions still want the Europeans on their side.

Why? The EU has the biggest single market and its sanctions can have real bite, as in Iran. The EU, as a club of democracies, is also a court of international opinion. Though some members are former colonial powers (France and Britain carved up the Middle East), the EU collectively is less antagonising. In short, Europe still matters: so it should stand tough on the use of chemical weapons. After all, it is just a short drive from Brussels to the battlefields of Ypres and the horrors of poison gas.

Economist.com/blogs/charlemagne