Europe is pushing the accelerator on a back-up plan within NATO, in the scenario – increasingly voiced, if not officially – that the United States would take a step back.
Donald Trump and Mark Rutte at the NATO summit: EPA/EFE
Against the background of the tensions related to the war with Iran and the transatlantic differences, the European capitals are sketching, discreetly but increasingly, a formula of “European NATO”, capable of functioning even without American support.
It is essentially a strategic repositioning. The idea is not to build a parallel alliance, but to strengthen existing NATO structures, through much deeper European involvement – from the chain of command to military resources. In other words, the Europeans are trying to fill the gaps that, until now, Washington was covering.
The plan, discussed rather behind the scenes – at diplomatic dinners and informal meetings around NATO headquarters – aims to maintain Russian deterrence, operational continuity and nuclear credibility, even if the US were to reduce or completely withdraw its military presence in Europe.
The alarm signal is not new, but it has been amplified. Initiated last year, the effort gained momentum after the tense episodes generated by Trump's statements – including a threat to “take” Greenland from Denmark – and became urgent amid Europeans' refusal to support the US offensive in Iran.
But the turning point comes from Berlin. Germany, traditionally reluctant to the idea of a European strategic autonomy, is changing its position. Under Chancellor Friedrich Merz, fears about the reliability of the US as an ally led to a profound reassessment. For decades, Berlin preferred the American security umbrella. Now, this certainty is cracking.
The challenge is huge
NATO is built, in almost all its dimensions – logistics, intelligence, command – around American leadership. Taking on these responsibilities requires not only political will but also real military capability, and here Europe still lags behind.
However, the direction is clear. The alliance will become “more European”, as Secretary General Mark Rutte recently stated. The essential difference is that this transformation no longer comes in response to American pressure, but from a domestic impulse, fueled by Trump's increasingly hostile rhetoric towards allies.
The president of Finland, Alexander Stubb, one of the architects of these talks, talks openly about a redistribution of responsibilities: less US, more Europe. But, he warns, the process must be managed carefully, not allowed to happen suddenly, through a hasty American withdrawal.
Awkward questions
In parallel, the Europeans are beginning to address the uncomfortable questions: Who would coordinate air and missile defense? Who would manage the logistics and reinforcement corridors to the eastern flank? Who would conduct major military exercises? They are technical dilemmas, but with major political implications.
The reintroduction of compulsory military service – abandoned by many states after the Cold War – is also being discussed as a tool to strengthen defense capacity and, last but not least, national cohesion.
At the same time, Europe is trying to catch up with the US in critical areas: anti-submarine warfare, space capabilities, aerial refueling or military mobility. Joint projects, such as the Franco-German-British one to develop stealth cruise missiles and hypersonic weapons, are seen as concrete steps in this direction.
However, there are obvious limits. No European state can replace the US as the military leader of the alliance. Especially in the field of nuclear deterrence, where only the Americans offer that extended strategic umbrella at the continental level.
Hence one of the most sensitive discussions: the expansion of European nuclear capacity. France and Britain are under pressure to play a bigger role, and the idea of the French nuclear deterrent covering other European states – including Germany – is no longer taboo.
In reality, Europe is not breaking up NATO. It redefines it. Slowly, cautiously, but visibly. And this transformation says more about distrust in the future of the transatlantic relationship than about the continent's autonomy ambitions.
