On November 3, 2009, the European Union’s Lisbon treaty was at last ratified when the Czech president Vaclav Klaus ended his solitary opposition and signed the pivotal — if contentious—document, eight years in the making. Despite its roots in the 2001 Laeken Declaration’s pledge of a “more democratic, transparent, and effective” Europe, the Lisbon treaty’s passage is marked by some noticeably undemocratic qualities. Dating to its former incarnation as the more federalist “constitutional treaty,” which contained such proto-nationalistic elements as an EU anthem and a European “bill of rights,” the much-maligned Lisbon treaty was “agreed upon,” despite being rejected by three out of six referendums. Moreover, 10 governments backed down from their own promises of public votes. For the most part, this contention can be dissected as the struggle between the maximalist and minimalist factions of the EU: between those who argue for a more integrated Europe and those who are content with the current supremacy of certain member-states.

In light of the relatively small fanfare generated by the treaty’s final adoption, questions remain as to whether Lisbon will effect any palpable change and what it means for Europe’s future on the world stage. The Lisbon treaty aims at further European integration and can be taken as a political statement in support of a more interconnected Europe. For all the substantial political capital used to ensure the treaty’s passage, however, the maximalists have nevertheless won an empty victory. Consider current European Commission President José Manuel Barroso’s statement about the opportunity presented by the treaty: “Don’t expect miracles. Lisbon reinforces our capacity to act, but at least as important is our willingness to act.” Nothing better illustrates how politicized and inertial the current state of affairs has become than the highly conservative picks of Herman Van Rompuy, then Belgian Prime Minister, and Catherine Ashton, previously European Commissioner for Trade, to the new posts of European Council President and high representative of foreign policy.

In one view, this “capacity to act” was strengthened by the treaty’s “streamlining” and “simplification” of EU decision-making. In the past, one of the European Union’s main challenges had been its chronic inability to produce a foreign policy consensus among its 27 member states. In the vacuum of any overarching focus, its foreign policy conformed to the whims of specific members. The treaty’s creation of an EU president and foreign policy representative purports to address this problem. Furthermore, the use of frequently paralyzing unanimous votes has been abandoned in favor of majority rule in many policy areas, including migration, criminal justice, and judicial-police joint action. Additionally, Lisbon changes the voting mechanism in some zones to assign votes to member states based on their populations.

In contrast, some critics rightfully question the potentially troublesome sweeping powers of “co-decision” awarded to the still-unfamiliar European Parliament. These include approval of European Commission president and ministers along with partial oversight of the EU budget. The European Parliament now wields influence that is, theoretically, almost equal to the European Council. Many see this as a disaster, pointing to the fact that Members of the European Parliament (MEPs) are out of touch with their constituencies. Relatively few Europeans vote for MEPs, and, as a recent article in The Economist noted, many Europeans do not even know who represents them. From farm subsidies to immigration, some fear that the Parliament will initiate an ill-advised legislative voting spree on narrow democratic mandates. An already prickly co-existence between the European Council and the Brussels-based European Commission will now be tested by the accommodation of another, even more unaccountable body.

Despite supposed policy improvements, no guiding European foreign policy exists. With the lackluster appointments of Belgium’s Van Rompuy and Britain’s Lady Ashton, EU leaders have confirmed that they are content to exert influence only within Europe, rather than on the world stage. The EU has missed a unique opportunity to utilize the Lisbon treaty to redefine a global Europe, which was—in theory—its most significant aim. Business continues as usual, with balance-of-power concerns and the prioritization of national interests leaving the EU with only a secondary role in world affairs. Granted, Mr. Van Rompuy is an avid Atlanticist, but as he has been prime minister of Belgium for less than a year, it is doubtful that he will “turn heads” in Washington, Beijing, or Moscow the way that a more prominent figure like Tony Blair could have. As British Tory leader David Cameron has observed, Van Rompuy is not “president of Europe.” He is a narrower, “chairmanic” figure rather than a promising sign of unified European diplomacy. It was Van Rompuy’s modest stature that garnered him the outsized support of Germany and France.

Lady Ashton was chosen for similarly dull reasons. When asked why she was selected, French president Nicolas Sarkozy replied, “It was felt a woman should hold a big EU job, because a center-left politician was needed to ‘balance’ Mr. Van Rompuy and because ‘our British friends’ wanted the post.” In fact, Lady Ashton was, at best, only the third choice of her own government. To be fair, Mr. Van Rompuy and Lady Ashton had both performed admirably in their previous roles. But this was neither the time nor the place to pick two relatively inexperienced political unknowns for the most public of EU positions, a weak start for a “new” Europe.

Some Euro-conservatives argue that a minimalist interpretation of the Lisbon treaty will actually benefit Europe. They would also argue against appointing a celbrity figure as either president or foreign minister because neither position is directly elected. As Financial Times columnist Gideon Rachman notes, “Ordinary Europeans would be justified in asking by what right the unelected Mr. Blair [for instance] speaks for them.” Yet Mr. Rachman also observes that European unity tends to crumble at moments of international crisis, indicating the necessity of Lisbon’s integrative measures. In principle, the treaty’s main objective was to endow Europe with the political heft to match its status as the world’s largest economy. In all likelihood, it is hard to envision America and China, or even India and Brazil, really respecting Mr. Van Rompuy and Lady Ashton. It is even less likely to imagine Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin doing so. During the South Ossetian War, Mr. Putin reserved no respect for even the European Union itself; its lack of a collective security or defense policy made it impossible for Europe to enforce its demands that Russian troops withdraw. In an international political landscape shaped by power interests, Europe needs the fullest potential of the Lisbon treaty to avoid becoming an international afterthought. Instead, this missed opportunity will cement the status quo of EU foreign policy being diluted by national governments. As Henry Kissinger once famously—if anecdotally—observed, “Whom do you call when you want to talk to Europe?”

While Europe searches for its voice, it will remain a spectator in a G2 world molded by America and China, as enunciated by British foreign secretary David Miliband. Admittedly, the European Union has been considered a triumph of diplomacy, having stabilized the Continent and made war unimaginable. In one sense, though, the European project’s success has led to the present difficulty of deciding how to project its considerable political-economic weight abroad. Europe, with the exhaustion following the Lisbon treaty and the lack of future direction it provided, will only gain international respect if it can harness the treaty’s potential and work toward a more maximalist EU.