If there’s one leader who should recognize the historic gravitas of the moment and rise to it with stirring rhetoric matched by action, it’s the man who modeled his political career on Winston Churchill, Boris Johnson.

Instead of offering “blood, toil, tears and sweat,” however, Johnson has sounded more like the Grim Reaper.

“Many more families are going to lose loved ones before their time,” he said in a televised address on Friday, insisting that his government has “a clear plan.”

Trouble is, the strategy underlying that plan, dubbed “herd immunity,” appears to have unnerved more people than it has reassured, fueling fears that Johnson has no plan at all.

“The realization has struck No. 10 that Britain has lost control of Covid-19, but it should at least look as though it is doing something,” the Sunday Times concluded.

What about Angela Merkel? After all, crisis is the German leader’s speciality. From the financial implosion of 2008 to the refugee crisis of 2015, Merkel has thrived in times of peril.

Until now.

The German chancellor, revered by some as the “leader of the free world,” left management of the pandemic to her youthful health minister, Jens Spahn.

She only emerged from her corona shell following last Monday’s market meltdown and after Italy was forced to impose draconian measures to bring the spread of the virus under control. Asked why it took her so long to engage publicly, Merkel insisted she had been monitoring the crisis from behind the scenes since January.

“I make a decision about when and where I address an issue according to the circumstances and the facts,” she said.

Yet the facts were there for all to see. Truth is, Merkel has been more focused on the refugee influx on Greece’s border with Turkey and the crisis in Libya in recent weeks.

Even as Merkel has tried to maintain a sage public demeanor, the government’s response to the crisis has been marked by crossed wires and confusion.

Merkel’s economy minister, Peter Altmaier, repeatedly played down the economic risks posed by coronavirus, saying that he didn’t expect it to become “a major burden for the global economy.”

Then reality set in. After a rollercoaster week in the markets, he and Finance Minister Olaf Scholz on Friday unveiled Germany’s “bazooka,” an unprecedented program to extend unlimited liquidity to German companies hit by the crisis.

On the ground, Germany’s virus-fighting effort has been no more coherent. While some states have closed schools, others have not. Last week, Berlin canceled all cultural events only to permit a professional football match. Following an outcry, the game was closed to the public and then canceled altogether.

The city initially allowed its bars and clubs to remain open, then announced on Friday they would have to close on Tuesday. Over the weekend, city leaders decided to impose the closure immediately, dispatching police across the German capital to eject patrons. Meanwhile, Munich’s beer halls remain open, at least for now.

Most blame Germany’s incoherent crisis-fighting on the country’s federal structure, which leaves authority over key policy areas, including public health and education, to Germany’s 16 states.

Amid the lack of clear political direction, many Germans were convinced until this week that the outbreak would be no worse than a seasonal flu.

A similar picture has emerged across much of Europe. After weeks of largely ignoring the unfolding crisis, leaders from France to Austria have been forced by a sudden explosion of cases to impose severe limits on their citizens.

Just a week ago, France hosted the largest Smurf convention ever, drawing more than 3,500 visitors. On Saturday, the country’s prime minister announced the closure of all bars, restaurants and non-essential shops.

Though it makes sense for EU members to tailor their coronavirus strategies to local requirements, the variety of approaches across the region suggests little, if any, real coordination.

Anyone hoping European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen would plot a coherent path forward has been disappointed.

On Monday, as Italy’s government shut down public life in the country and stock markets melted, von der Leyen appeared before the press to boast about her first 100 days in office. Like an eager pupil who wanted to show the world how well she had prepared for her big speech, von der Leyen seemed almost offended that reporters were forcing her to address the gathering coronavirus storm.

Even then, she didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation.

The Commission’s “coronavirus response team” had the situation under control, she insisted, adding “we meet once a week.”

