Europe’s leaders rated on their coronavirus
response
Across the Continent, leaders have struggled against a
formidable and relentless enemy.
BY MATTHEW
KARNITSCHNIG
October 17,
2020 1:06 pm
https://www.politico.eu/article/europes-leaders-rated-on-their-coronavirus-response/
BY NOW,
JUST ABOUT EVERYONE KNOWS THAT COVID-19 IS NO LAUGHING MATTER, much less “like
the flu,” as one prominent American politician long insisted (until he caught
it).
Seven
months into the pandemic – just in time for the second wave we all hoped
wouldn’t arrive but knew was inevitable – Europeans have become decidedly more
sophisticated about how to handle the crisis.
In contrast
to the shock, horror and panic that swept the Continent in March, a more
sanguine “wir schaffen das” (We can do it) spirit has taken hold this time. For
the most part, Europeans are wearing masks and keeping distance while doing
their best to live somewhat normal lives.
Attempting
to manage infection risk while keeping the economy from collapsing is far from
an exact science though. And with Europe’s second wave building, the numbers
tell a grim tale. At the peak of the first wave there were nearly 32,000
recorded cases per day across the EU27 and the U.K. It is close to three times
that now.
So far,
nearly 200,000 people have lost their lives to COVID-19 and 4.5 million people
have been infected in the EU, U.K. and the European Economic Area. The region’s
economy is expected to contract by more than 8 percent this year.
With
infection rates on the rise in many countries POLITICO decided it was time to
take stock of how the region’s political class have performed so far. What
policies worked and which ones didn’t? This ranking — though informed by the
grim COVID-19 stats — did not undergo the rigors of peer review, nor is it
based on any criteria stipulated by the European Centre for Disease Prevention
and Control or Johns Hopkins University. Instead, it’s a mostly subjective,
political look at The Good, the Bad and the Ugly….
Amore mio
Everyone
loves a good redemption tale. And everyone loves Italy. No place embodies the
European way of life, at least in aspirational terms, like the country of Dante
and Ferrari. That’s why no European was left cold by the scenes of horror that
emerged from Bergamo in February. Thanks to Italy, the rest of the Continent
understood “the depth and dimension of the crisis,” German President
Frank-Walter Steinmeier, who made his first foreign visit after the outbreak to
Milan, said last month.
More
importantly, Italy showed the rest of Europe how to turn things around. Spooked
by the dramatic death toll in the Lombardy region, the government of Prime
Minister Giuseppe Conte sprang into action, using the license he won through
emergency decrees to get the country’s famously sclerotic administration
moving. That helped Italy flatten the curve more quickly than anyone thought
possible. Conte also made the case for a generous European recovery fund,
playing a key role in convincing Merkel to drop Germany’s resistance to common
debt issuance, while proving that not even the stone-faced chancellor is immune
to Italian charm.
Northern
Lights
In almost
any global country ranking, whether the subject is quality of life, happiness
or quality of education, the Nordics are at or near the top. Coronavirus is no
different (for the most part). Norway, Iceland, Finland and Denmark have all
weathered the pandemic in solid shape so far. (That all four countries are led
by women may or may not be a coincidence.)
The
Nordics’ quick imposition of restrictions at the beginning of the crisis helped
mute the infection rate, allowing the government to leave shops open and then
relax most controls over the summer. That both saved lives and blunted the
economic impact. The same is broadly true of the neighboring Baltic countries,
which have been spared the worst of the pandemic, suffering fewer than 220
deaths cumulatively. Across the north, efficient public administration in
rolling out testing and the public’s willingness to comply with restrictions
have been the keys to success.
Norwegian
Prime Minister Erna Solberg’s nationally televised, press conference-style
question and answer sessions with schoolchildren are just one example of the
region’s innovative political spirit.
Finland’s
millennial Prime Minister Sanna Marin has won the most praise for showing,
despite her relative inexperience, grace under pressure. While Finland (and the
rest of the region) has a number of natural advantages such as geographic
isolation, strong social cohesion and a fairly small population, Marin was only
four months into the job when the pandemic hit. Finland’s famed crisis
preparation offered the new leader a handy template, but at the end of the day,
it was up to her. Coronavirus cases in Finland, a country of 5.5 million, have
been rising recently (Marin herself had to leave the European Council summit
this week after discovering she had been exposed to the virus), but the death
rate in the country from the virus (6.34 per 100,000) remains one of the
region’s lowest.
Greece of
my heart
No country
seemed better placed to get walloped by COVID-19 than Greece. The country’s
economy is still reeling from the depression it suffered during the debt
crisis, it has one of Europe’s oldest populations — so vulnerable to the most
severe effects of the virus — and its citizens are famous for their stubborn
refusal to follow rules.
Turns out
that the risk of death – or the collective memory of plagues past – focuses the
Greek mind more than the threat of financial ruin. Under the deft stewardship
of Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis, Athens made the case quickly and
effectively that Greeks needed to take the pandemic seriously. And they
listened, taking one of Europe’s most stringent lockdowns, including the
shuttering of schools and churches, in stride.
The radical
steps, which began in March, kept the virus in check, but put the economy under
even further strain. By early May, the government lifted the restrictions,
hoping to save at least some of the tourist season, a key source of revenue for
the entire economy. But open borders or not, the tourists all but stopped
coming. The IMF now projects the Greek economy to contract by 9.5 percent this
year.
Nonetheless,
the government has succeeded in keeping the virus under control. Though cases
have risen significantly in recent weeks, Greece still has one Europe’s lowest
death rates (4.49 per 100,000). That’s all the more impressive given that the
government has had to deal with emergencies on two other fronts: Turkey’s
attempted gas grab in the eastern Mediterranean and the refugee crisis on the
island of Lesvos.
East of the
Rhine
All in all,
Europe’s German-speaking lands and the countries of Central and Eastern Europe
have managed the crisis well.
Germany is
often held up as the European model for its pandemic strategy, but it also made
plenty of mistakes, including a slow initial response and Berlin’s decision to
close most borders. The country’s disjointed federal governance structure,
which puts responsibility for health and education with Germany’s 16 states,
has also made it difficult for Chancellor Angela Merkel to impose nationwide
policies. That has left Germany with a patchwork of coronavirus of rules and
regulations that are often more confusing than helpful.
Even so,
Merkel’s persistent calls on the population to wear masks and observe social
distancing (which comes naturally to most Germans) has helped Germany avoid the
fate of other large countries, where the pandemic spun out of control.
Austria was
also slow off the mark. Indeed, many in Europe blame the Alpine nation for
helping to spread the virus across the region by failing to manage a major
outbreak in the Tyrolean ski resort of Ischgl in February. The Ischgl cluster
was a wake-up call for Chancellor Sebastian Kurz. His government quickly
imposed tough restrictions across the country, including sealing off entire
towns, to bring the spread under control. That strategy worked through the
summer, although cases are now spiking again with a daily rate more than 50
percent higher than the peak in March. Despite that, Austria’s death rate (10.9
per 100,000) is lower than Germany’s.
Nordic Noir
Sweden. Who
would believe this? By any objective measure, the country, long regarded by
progressives as the gold standard of governance, dropped the ball on COVID-19.
Prime Minister Stefan Löfven effectively handed responsibility for the
government response to Sweden’s guru-like chief epidemiologist, Anders Tegnell,
who opposes masks and argued against closing schools, shops or restaurants. For
Tegnell, lockdowns are “using a hammer to kill a fly.”
Tegnell
insists that he was not “definitely not” pursuing a “herd immunity” strategy to
build up immunity to the virus in the population, although a batch of emails
exchanged with a colleague in Finland that were obtained by a Swedish
journalist rather suggest he was. Whatever the plan, it has so far resulted in
more than 100,000 infections and a case fatality ratio (the proportion of those
infected who die) of 5.8 percent, on par with Sudan’s. The rate in neighboring
Norway is just 1.7 percent.
Sweden is
still a model – at least among adherents of the corona-denying fringe. If
Löfven, a Social Democrat, is having second thoughts, he’s not betraying them.
For now, he’s sticking to his motto: hålla i och hålla ut (“keep battling on”).
Czeched Out
If
coronavirus has taught Europe one thing, it’s that no country can afford to
rest on its laurels. Exhibit A: the Czech Republic. Prime Minister Andrej Babiš
might be known as Central Europe’s “mini-Trump,” but the populist Czech
billionaire’s initial response to the pandemic didn’t borrow heavily from the
Trump playbook (other than an early ban on direct flights from China on
February 9).
The Czech
Republic was the first country in Europe to mandate masks, shut schools and
close non-essential shops. It was also the first to ease lockdown restrictions,
beginning with small shops on April 9. That’s when the trouble started.
Babiš then
sidelined the architect of the country’s response, epidemiologist Roman
Prymula. The sense of national pride that swept the country at the start of
summer quickly turned to hubris. When cases started rising in early August, the
government was caught flat-footed. Babiš ignored the warning signs and worried
that reimposing restrictions would anger the business community. So he did
nothing.
After daily
infections surpassed levels seen last spring, the health minister tried to
reimpose mask-wearing rules for stores. But Babiš vetoed a return to the
restrictions. The result: infections soared. An increasingly desperate Babiš
responded by firing the health minister on September 21 and replacing him with
none other than Prymula, the epidemiologist he had been ignoring for months.
It might be
too late. Infection rates in the country of 10.5 million have exploded over the
past month. In recent days, the number of new daily cases has shattered one
record after another. Of the roughly 150,000 cases in the country since the
pandemic began, one-third have been confirmed in the last week alone — though
the country’s death rate is still in line with Germany’s.
Les
Misérables
The French
love to hate the way their government handled the COVID-19 crisis.
At first
they were complaining that the government was caught with its pants down,
didn’t have a strategic reserve of masks or the industrial capacity to produce
tests. Looking over at the seeming efficiency on display across the Rhine only
made things worse. Then, once everyone had masks, many of the French got sick of
wearing them and were unhappy with the increasingly coercive guidelines making
mask-wearing compulsory. The failure of Emmanuel Macron’s government to
implement effective testing and tracing or issue coherent safety guidelines
further soured public confidence.
Seven
months into the pandemic, French leaders still routinely try to absolve
themselves by citing how new and unpredictable this new virus is, when other
countries seem to be less baffled by it. Authorities also avoided enforcing
strict guidelines during the summer holidays — a sacrosanct French ritual — for
fear of a social revolt worse than the Yellow Jackets, but that led to the
unintended consequence of precipitating the second wave, as the French were
more lax in following health guidelines.
With daily
cases (at nearly 20,000 per day) now far higher than in Germany and more than
three times even than Italy, which had been harder hit in the spring, the
situation is deteriorating fast. Macron told the nation in March that it was
“at war” with the virus. Currently, it looks like one he is losing.
Spanish
Civil War
Spain has
the tragic distinction of being the country hardest hit by both the first and
the second waves of the pandemic. Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez followed a
standard COVID-19 playbook last spring, declaring a “state of alarm” and
enforcing some of the Continent’s harshest restrictions. But Spain’s
underfunded and understaffed health care system simply couldn’t cope, leaving
the country with one of the world’s highest death rates from the virus (72 per
100,000). By the time the state of emergency expired on June 21, Sánchez’s
government had managed to flatten the curve. Trouble is, it didn’t stay flat
for long. By mid-July, at the height of the tourist season, infections ticked
up again.
Blame
politics. Spain’s conservative opposition withdrew support for Sánchez’s
lockdown measures in June, leaving the country’s 17 states effectively in the
cornavirus driver’s seat, with the power to declare a local state of emergency.
So far, none have dared, fearing the reputational fallout. The result has been
an uneven, often inept, response to the crisis.
While
Madrid, the epicenter of Spain’s outbreak, has registered more than 560 cases
per 100,000 residents over the past two weeks — prompting the national
government to seize control of coronavirus restrictions — regions including
Valencia and Asturias report less than half that amount. More than six months
into the pandemic, Spain has yet to implement an effective regimen to track and
trace the coronavirus, a central failure that has frustrated efforts to slow
its spread. So far, polls suggest voters don’t blame Sánchez — that may not
last.
British
Exceptionalism
Most of the
European countries hit hardest by the pandemic suffered mainly because they were
caught off guard. The U.K., on the other hand, slid into COVID-19 oblivion with
eyes wide open. Prime Minister Boris Johnson was so unruffled by the pending
storm that he skipped several emergency meetings on the subject early in the
year. Even by early March, as the pandemic had northern Italy in its grip,
Johnson seemed oblivious to the danger, telling a press conference that he’d
visited a hospital caring for coronavirus patients and “shook hands with
everybody.”
A few weeks
later, Johnson himself contracted the virus. His bout with the disease – and
near death while in intensive care – salvaged his approval ratings, which
reached 66 percent by mid-April.
Since then,
there has been a slow unravelling of public confidence, as details of the
government’s lack of preparation have emerged and the virus has hit the country
hard (England had the worst death rate of any European country between January
and June, according to the country’s statistics body). Major failures which
gradually came to light include a huge death toll in care homes (which were
forced to take back coronavirus patients early in the outbreak) and not getting
significant testing capacity off the ground quickly. Public anger spiked with
the revelation in late May that Dominic Cummings, Johnson’s closest aide, had
flagrantly broken lockdown rules.
As the
height of the emergency turned into the long haul, Johnson struggled to
articulate a long-term strategy or clear messages for the public – a symptom of
being torn between his scientific advice and political convictions that
personal freedoms should be prioritized. His Conservative party has become
increasingly restless in recent weeks, with opponents of tougher restrictions
becoming bolder and forcing the government into a concession that any major new
national measures must be put to a vote.
Despite it
all, Johnson’s Conservatives retain a slight edge over Labour in the polls. The
question is whether that will survive the second wave.
Heart of
Europe
If the EU’s
mandarins ever needed a reminder over the past several months of just how bad
the crisis could get in Europe, they needed only to have looked out their own
window. It didn’t take long for Brussels to establish itself as one of Europe’s
coronavirus hot zones. The rest of Belgium didn’t fare much better. Theories
abound on the reasons, from the country’s status as a diplomatic and
transportation crossroads to its densely housed urban population.
A more
plausible cause is political dysfunction. Belgium barely works at the best of
times, thanks to its fractious provincial structure and regional rivalries.
Unfortunately for the Belgians, and the country’s many foreign residents, the
pandemic hit during one of the country’s frequent political interregnums. The
task of combatting the pandemic was left to Sophie Wilmès, the inexperienced,
then-interim prime minister.
Communication
with the public was poor. Belgium’s non-traditional (though some might argue
commendably transparent) methodology for counting COVID -19 deaths further
sowed confusion. Even today, it is difficult to compare Belgium to other
countries on the basis of the government’s data. But this much is clear: The
situation is bad.
The newly
established Belgian government of Prime Minister Alexander De Croo has promised
better coordination to tackle the virus, taking a page out of the EU’s playbook
by naming a new “Commissioner” tasked with managing the government’s
coronavirus response. Given the country’s record so far, it would be difficult
for him to fail.
Charlie
Cooper, Cristina Gallardo, Rym Momtaz, Charlie Duxbury, Siegfried Mortkowitz,
Sarah Wheaton, Jacopo Barigazzi and Cornelius Hirsch contributed reporting.


Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário