EUROPE has not enjoyed a feast like the one in Warsaw on June 30th for a long time: a glittering première of Szymanowski's “King Roger” at the national opera; a floral carpet made from 14,000 potted plants; open-air concerts across the city. And after midnight the Palace of Culture and Science, Warsaw's Stalinist landmark, came alight with dazzling fireworks.

So much fuss for so little. The opera programme boasted of Poland “taking over the leadership of the European Union”, but the reality is prosaic. It will run the presidency of the Council of Ministers for six months, a lesser job in a system full of other “presidents”: of the European Commission (the civil service), of the European Council (EU leaders) and of the European Parliament.

The rotating presidency has been stripped of many functions by the Lisbon treaty. Prime ministers no longer host summits: Herman Van Rompuy presides instead. Foreign ministers have their own permanent “high representative”, Cathy Ashton, to look after them. Gatherings of the 27 finance ministers (Ecofin) are secondary to the 17-strong Eurogroup, which has its own president, Jean-Claude Juncker. What is left is rather humdrum. One task is to chair some sectoral councils, for instance of agriculture ministers. Another is negotiation with the European Parliament: important, but hardly glamorous.

All holders of the presidency face a dilemma. They want to stand out, yet are expected to set aside the national interest for the collective good. This may be too constraining for Poland, which sees its first-ever presidency as a step in the renaissance of a martyred nation. “We are going to see a lot more Poland and a lot less presidency,” says one diplomat. Poland seems undecided about its place in Europe. Should it be the biggest of the EU's new members? Or should it be the newest of the big, on a par with Germany, France and Britain? It tries to be both, but risks doing neither well.

With an election due in October, the Polish prime minister, Donald Tusk, wants to show off his international credentials. He starts at an advantage: he is not Jaroslaw Kaczynski, his predecessor and twin brother of the late president, Lech Kaczynski, who died in an air crash in Russia last year. As leaders of the Law and Justice party, the twins' abrasive nationalism antagonised both Russia and Germany. By contrast, Mr Tusk has made up with Moscow and exudes a pro-Europeanism that is rare in these troubled times. The EU, he says, is “a great invention” to be preserved and revitalised. “The European heart is beating here on the Vistula and the Baltic Sea.”

But this self-confident Euro-enthusiasm, bolstered by one of the fastest-growing EU economies, can easily stray into arrogance. Mr Tusk just about accuses his fellow EU leaders of hypocrisy for talking of integration and yet undoing the Schengen passport-free zone by reimposing some border controls. And Greece is a victim of the crisis, not the cause, he says, implying everyone else is guilty for the mess. Jacek Rostowski, the British-born finance minister, adds to the criticism. The euro zone's leaders fail to see their “vital national interest” in saving the single currency; populist parties opposing bail-outs are “breathtaking” in their short-sightedness. The loans to Greece, Ireland and Portugal promote too much austerity and too little growth.

So does Poland want to join the euro? Well, er, Poland has yet to meet the entry criteria. And in any case, it has conditions of its own: the euro zone must have a proper means of enforcing fiscal rules and a better crisis-management system. “There is no target date,” says Mr Rostowski. And yet he craves admission to the Eurogroup—not as a participant, he says, but as an observer. Why should the head of the IMF attend but not the president of Ecofin? He has been allowed to listen in to part of one Eurogroup phone conference. Those who like an exclusive Eurogroup fret that, once the Poles are in the room, it may be hard to get them out.

Poland also seeks a bigger role in diplomacy and defence. It champions deeper relations with the EU's eastern borderlands. It will host a summit of the eastern partnership (EU countries and six neighbours), push for a free-trade deal with Ukraine and try to nudge more Balkan countries towards membership. Poland reckons it can offer something to the Arab spring too: the experience of casting off dictatorship. Though Poland was criticised by America for staying out of the air campaign in Libya, its foreign minister, Radek Sikorski, was the first to visit rebel-held Benghazi. It is also pushing for greater EU military integration.

Polish charges of EU egotism can grate. This is the country that has just blocked proposals to toughen the EU's carbon emissions target from 20% to 25% in 2020, over 1990 levels, mainly because of its dependence on coal. How can it pretend to speak for the EU at November's climate-change talks in Durban? Similarly, as the biggest recipient of regional aid, Poland wants a larger EU budget, setting itself against big countries, like Britain, that want a cut.

Blessed are the meek

Poland cannot be both preacher and supplicant. An overambitious presidency, even one that wears the halo of the EU's ring of gold stars, can stir more enmity than praise. A lucky presidency may complete negotiations begun by others. An unlucky one may draw unwanted attention to itself. The stint of Hungary, the outgoing president, began badly amid uproar over its media law, but ended well by closing accession talks with Croatia.

The exemplar of the competent, post-Lisbon presidency is Belgium. It was barely visible during its turn in the chair in the second half of 2010. With only a caretaker government, its ministers had lots of time to devote to EU business. If Poland craves blessing, it should show restraint and self-denial. Better modest success than glorious failure.





Economist.com/blogs/charlemagne