Photo via The Economist
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“Don’t ask America what it can do for our security. Ask what we can do for our own,” Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk told European lawmakers. Across Europe, defense budgets are swelling. Germany has launched its €100 billion Zeitenwende rearmament fund. Poland is spending almost 5% of its GDP on defense, one of the highest rates in the world. France has pledged to raise military spending to $75 billion in 2027.
Yet this buildup pales in comparison to the United States. In 2024, U.S. defense spending reached $997 billion—roughly 40% of global military expenditure, according to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI). Washington’s defense budget exceeds that of the next nine countries combined, affirming itself as a military superpower. This imbalance means that despite Europe spending more on its military, it remains dependent on the United States for the very hardware of its defense. A Guardian analysis found that nearly half of all fighter jets in active European service are U.S.-made. American missile defense systems dominate the continent. Even major powers like Germany, Britain, and Italy rely heavily on American arms manufacturers for their most advanced equipment.
This reliance is a threat to European security. U.S. President Donald Trump has repeatedly questioned America’s commitment to NATO’s Article 5, the alliance’s mutual defense clause that guarantees collective protection in the event of an attack on any member. During his presidency, Trump has frequently suggested that the United States might not defend allies who failed to meet NATO’s defense spending target of 2% of GDP, warning that America was “not going to be the world’s policeman for free.” Trump also called NATO “obsolete,” questioned why the U.S. should defend “rich countries” like Germany, and at one point reportedly discussed the possibility of withdrawing from the alliance altogether.
European leaders know this precarity. If the defense of Europe hinges on the political mood of a single American president, then Europe’s security is not sovereign. Combined with the war in Ukraine, which has reaffirmed Russia as one of the greatest existential threats to Europe’s security, the urge for militarisation has intensified on the political stage. And for good reason, a U.S withdrawal from NATO would hand Putin the strategic victory he has pursued for decades—the weakening, if not outright fracturing, of the transatlantic alliance that has constrained Russian power since 1949. Even the mere discussion of withdrawal, as official Admiral Stavridis has admitted, is interpreted in Moscow as an enormous gift. In such a scenario, Russia would face a dramatically more permissive environment to intimidate, coerce and attack its neighbours. Thus, Europe’s sovereignty ultimately hinges on its ability to defend itself should Washington step back, for reliance on an unpredictable superpower is a structural vulnerability no security order can sustain.
Calls for an autonomous European defense are not new. As far back as 2000, Tony Blair and Jacques Chirac agreed to create a 60,000-strong EU Rapid Reaction Force capable of operating independently from NATO. However, it never materialized, undone by political hesitation, bureaucratic confusion, and fierce U.S. opposition. Ironic.
Today, the European Union has already enhanced internal cooperation through weapons projects and military coordination, making the different armies already interoperable from a technical standpoint. For instance, the Eurofighter demonstrates the ability of European nations to jointly build a modern combat fighter. Other important projects, like the joint building of the multipurpose frigate FREMM between Italy and France or the Franco-German elaboration of the combat helicopter Tiger, demonstrate the ability of founding European countries to cooperate on critical technological aspects of their defense. This trust to share highly sensitive secrets indicates that further cooperation could be possible. Moreover, the majority of European states are in NATO, meaning ammunition is already standardized thanks to the STANAG agreements. Because of these two advantages, a European army would make sense as many weapon systems are already interoperable, shared, or even built together. Through various NATO and multinational exercises, soldiers know how to operate and interact with each other, so the technical barriers to bring together the different European armies into one force are already very low.
It is therefore perhaps time to bring down the long-dormant European army from the attic: brushed off, reimagined, and finally taken seriously as more than a relic of idealistic speeches. Skeptics argue that an EU army is politically impossible without transforming the Union into a federal state. Yet that fear is overstated as Europe has repeatedly advanced through coalitions of the willing. The eurozone and the Schengen area are prime examples of European projects that concerned the willing members, even outside the European Union.
A similar approach could work for defense. France, Germany, Poland, and the Nordic states could form the core of a European Defense Community open to others who meet certain commitments. The Centre for Strategic & International Studies reimagined this European project in the present day context, offering a plan for a European defense.
They elaborate a pragmatic vision of such a force. The army would employ a 100,000 troops designed to replace the current 100, 000 US troops stationed around Europe. These troops would complement, not replace, national armies. Officers could be recruited from across the EU and even from candidate countries, offering citizenship in exchange for service. English, which most Europeans already learn, would serve as the operational language, ensuring smoother communication across borders. A unified training and doctrine program would standardize tactics and interoperability among troops, ensuring that European forces act collectively.
This European army does not necessarily have to rival NATO, but instead could work alongside it. A European deputy supreme commander could ensure that EU and NATO missions remain coordinated, while still preserving the EU’s ability to act independently when NATO consensus breaks down.
Political legitimacy could flow from the European Council, where elected heads of government already deliberate on foreign and defense policy, rather than an unelected bureaucracy in Brussels. Legally, the project might not even require a new treaty. Article 42.7 of the EU Treaty obliges member states to provide “aid and assistance by all the means in their power” to any EU country under attack. In light of this, the European army gaining its force from the “all means in their power” would be legally appropriate.
Yet Europe’s turn toward militarization raises a good old societal debate of guns over butter: what kind of power does it want to be? Defense spending may be necessary, but it carries moral and social trade-offs. In France, military expansion coincides with cuts to culture and social welfare. In Italy, some argue that certain countries’ industries are set to disproportionately profit from Europe’s re-armament efforts. While Spain believes defense spending may further burden the country’s debt.
Nevertheless, ignoring this geopolitical time bomb is not only naive, but existentially perilous. The war in Ukraine has shattered long-held assumptions about perpetual peace on the continent. A world without military spending would be ideal, where diplomacy and cooperation could guarantee peace and tax-payers’ money could instead be poured into welfare and infrastructure. But Europe is under threat. It is not paranoia but a fact. In a world of Putins, Trumps, and Xi Jinpings, Europe can no longer afford to rely solely on moral authority or economic influence as substitutes for hard power. The liberal order it once took for granted is fraying, challenged by revisionist powers and nationalist movements alike.
The U.S. security guarantee, once the bedrock of European defense, has grown uncertain, leaving the continent vulnerable to strategic blackmail and internal fragmentation. Despite the unease surrounding an arms race, Europe’s reluctance to arm itself would serve only as a gift to authoritarian leaders. Vladimir Putin and his war in Ukraine alongside cyberattacks on hospitals and elections, assassination attempts on European business leaders, and open ambitions toward the Baltic states demonstrates a willingness to test Western resolve and exploit hesitation. For a leader who sees power in military might and weakness in restraint, a disarmed or divided Europe would represent an open invitation. Therefore independant militarisation is not a political choice, but a recognition of reality.
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This article was edited by Annika Trippel and Dysen Morrell.
