Brussels is headed for an institutional showdown over the EU-Mercosur trade deal, with Germany demanding the European Commission push through the agreement despite the European Parliament voting to block it.
Welcome to EU democracy, where "yes means yes" and "no means we'll find another way."
The clash pits Germany's export-hungry industrial lobby against the Parliament's environmental and agricultural concerns - and it's a test case for how much power the EU's only directly elected body actually wields.
The Mercosur deal - 25 years in negotiation - would create a free trade zone between the EU and South American nations Brazil, Argentina, Paraguay, and Uruguay, covering 700 million people. For Germany's car manufacturers and machinery exporters, it opens markets that have been protected by tariffs for generations.
But the European Parliament just voted to oppose the deal, citing concerns about Amazon deforestation, labor standards, and the impact on European farmers who would face competition from South American beef and soy. In most democratic systems, that would be the end of the story.
Not in Brussels.
Germany's government is pressuring the European Commission to bypass Parliament by splitting the agreement into two parts. The core trade provisions would be enacted as an "EU-only" agreement requiring approval only from the Council of Ministers - where Germany has a vote and veto power. Only the portions touching on national competencies would go to Parliament.
It's technically legal. It's also a middle finger to the institution that claims to represent 450 million European citizens.
"We will not accept this democratic farce," French Green MEP Marie Toussaint told Politico Europe. "The Parliament has spoken clearly. Ignoring that vote would confirm every Eurosceptic's worst fears about Brussels."
France finds itself in the awkward position of siding with Parliament against Germany - not out of democratic principle, but because French farmers are terrified of South American competition. Paris has threatened to block the deal in the Council if Berlin tries the split-agreement maneuver.
The institutional mechanics here matter, because they reveal how EU power actually works versus how the textbooks say it works.
The European Commission proposes legislation. The Council of Ministers (national governments) and European Parliament both must approve it. That's the simplified version taught in Brussels think tanks and Sciences Po seminars.
The reality: When member states really want something, they find legal workarounds. The Commission - nominally independent but dependent on national governments for political support - usually obliges. Parliament can shout, but it has limited tools to enforce its will.
Mercosur is the perfect test case because the interests are so clearly aligned. Germany's export-dependent economy desperately needs new markets as China slows and Trump threatens tariffs. France's politically powerful agricultural sector sees only threats. And the Parliament, emboldened by its growing environmental consciousness, wants to prove it's not a rubber stamp.
Brussels decides more than you think - but which Brussels? The Commission on Rue de la Loi? The Parliament in Strasbourg? The Council chambers where national ministers cut deals over coffee?
The legal argument for splitting the agreement isn't frivolous. Trade policy is an "exclusive EU competency" under the treaties, meaning it genuinely doesn't require parliamentary approval in the same way. But previous mega-deals like CETA with Canada were treated as "mixed agreements" requiring both Council and Parliament approval, precisely because they touched on so many policy areas.
Changing that precedent now, after Parliament voted no, would be seen as institutional revenge.
"Germany is showing its true colors," said one EU diplomat from a smaller member state, speaking on condition of anonymity because they're not authorized to criticize Berlin publicly. "When the rules suit them, they're federalists. When the rules don't suit them, they discover national sovereignty."
The environmental arguments against Mercosur are substantial. Brazil's agricultural expansion has accelerated Amazon deforestation. The deal's climate protections are vague and unenforceable. European farmers, already struggling with climate transition costs, would face competition from producers operating under looser environmental rules.
But there's also hypocrisy. Europe spent centuries industrializing without environmental constraints, then demands that developing nations meet standards Europe itself didn't follow. Brazil points out that European beef production isn't exactly carbon-neutral either.
The deal includes a €1 billion fund to support European farmers affected by competition - essentially admission that some will be driven out of business. Whether that's acceptable depends on whether you view trade as mutual benefit or zero-sum competition.
The Commission is expected to announce its decision next month. If it sides with Germany and splits the agreement, expect a legal challenge from Parliament and political chaos in France. If it bows to Parliament and France, expect fury from Berlin and criticism that Europe is too paralyzed to make strategic decisions.
Welcome to European Union decision-making: 27 member states, three institutions, endless procedures, and the nagging suspicion that the biggest economies always get their way in the end.
Brussels decides more than you think. Today's question: which part of Brussels gets to decide?
