Who will sign up to the Bundeswehr? (Credit: Adam Berry/Getty)


March 24, 2025   5 mins

Imagine a world in which western Europe was actually able to stick it to Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump simultaneously. As if. Back in the real world, there’s a remote possibility the Europeans might get their act together sufficiently to stand up to one, or the other. But not both. They will, in classic fashion, be split. Some of the eastern European countries, the Baltic States, for example, will prioritise a push-back against Russia. Others, like France, are more concerned with driving their independence from the US. Then there is a third group that wants neither.

The extent of Europe’s current defence vulnerability is perfectly illustrated by the F-35 fighter jet. Sold to us by the American defence company Lockheed Martin, eight countries are involved in its manufacture and 14 Nato member states use it. They all co-operate on matters like training, and maintenance.

But according to the magazine Stern, the contract with the Germans stipulates that the Americans have the right to withdraw support for delivery of the aircraft, and maintenance at any time if the President decides to invoke national security interests. There is talk among European security officials that the Americans might even use something called the “kill switch” to immediately deactivate the planes, should their erratic President see fit to do so. While there is no credible evidence that such a thing even exists, the US certainly has many other ways to frustrate its use in the field — including refusing to service them or supply parts. Meanwhile, European defence ministries are committed to the jet as it allows them to remain under the US nuclear umbrella. France, the only nuclear power in the EU, doesn’t have sufficient capacity to provide the scale of defence services to other members of the EU that the US has been willing to do until now.

So, where does that leave Europe? What they are agreed on is the plan is to increase military spending. The EU will follow Germany’s example and partially exempt the defence budget from the fiscal rules. But the truth is, no amount of investment will wean the EU off its American dependency any time soon. It will take decades to close the immense defence technology gap.

To build entire industries from scratch takes time. You need defence companies, supply chains, and know-how. Europe is far from the cutting edge of 21st century defence technology and its expertise in that sector has been diminished since the end of the Cold War.

A graphic example of what happens when you lose industrial know-how can be seen in the civilian nuclear sector. Germany used to build the best nuclear power stations in the world but had changed by 2023 when it closed the last of its own plants. That same year, the country only had eight professors active in nuclear research — there were, by way of comparison, 173 professors in gender studies. This is what happens when you drive down industries. They can’t just be switched back on.

The same applies for defence. The US is miles ahead of us thanks to decades of investment into digital-era technologies. From the Manhattan Project onwards, American military investment and innovation has pioneered civilian spin-offs: the transistor in 1947, the integrated circuit a decade later, and the communication technologies in the Sixties that morphed into the technology behind the internet. When the US was investing in AI, the Europeans were fussing over the Green Deal. We spent our peace dividend on social transfers. As a result, the German military still uses the fax machine and we are similarly in the dark ages when it comes to building ballistic missiles, AI-powered satellites, and electronic warfare.

“When the US was investing in AI, the Europeans were fussing over the Green Deal.”

It is laughable, then, to think we could possibly match Russia’s defence capabilities in the next five years. Even with investment in place, given the weakness of our industry, we would have to spend it on defence imports from the US. At which point, action is thwarted by Europe’s age-old problem. Politics. There are no indications that political majorities in Berlin or Paris are willing to trade off welfare spending to pay for US arms imports. Italy and Spain are already recusing themselves from re-militarisation because they are far away from Russia, and because they have much less fiscal scope.

Even the more realistic goal of a gradual Europeanisation of defence spending over a period of 10-15 years would go beyond anything Europe has done in living memory. Key to their current position is the fact that the EU is not a military alliance. Defence is explicitly excluded from the single market. The UK is not in the EU, and yet it is indispensable in the construction of any functioning European security architecture. But Europe, obdurate as ever, launched a €150bn defence fund with the participation of Japan and South Korea, and without the UK. This tells us that they are still in business-as-usual mode.

Another obstacle to military greatness is Europe’s demographics, and its lack of young people willing to join the military. There is now growing support in several EU countries to reinstitute the draft. Interestingly much of this pressure comes from politicians of the Left, who themselves avoided the draft when it was in place, and who opted for social work instead. But even if the draft were brought back, that would not suddenly present Europe with the specialist troops they need to drive battle tanks and fly F35 fighter planes. I heard of a young man who wanted to join the Bundeswehr a decade ago but was rejected on the grounds that he was overqualified. He was told that preference was given to people from difficult social environments.

Our current predicament dates back to the woman once celebrated by pro-European liberals as the leader of the Western world, Angela Merkel. She left a long legacy of unsolved problems, including that of a depleted Bundeswehr.

But of all the terrible decisions Merkel took, by far the most consequential, the repercussions of which we are feeling now, was her refusal to accept a strengthening of the EU’s institutions during the eurozone financial crisis in 2012. For the briefest of moments that year, there was pressure on EU leaders to agree a timetable for a single European sovereign bond and a fiscal union. The sovereign debt crisis led to an increase in interest rates in several European countries that would have invariably led to an implosion of the eurozone if it had been allowed to continue. Merkel decided in the summer of that year that she did not want to pick a fight with the conservatives in her party. As a result, the EU was left trapped in a dependency on the US dollar, on US financial markets, and on US defence. If the EU had started the long process towards a fiscal union in 2012, it might have been better equipped to respond to the geopolitical shocks of this decade.

Instead, it was left to Mario Draghi, then president of the European Central Bank, to roll out a backstop to prevent the eurozone from imploding. That accomplished the technical job of containing the rise in interest rates, but it was also the point at which the battle for a political union was lost. In the years since, the EU has only become more fragmented.

By 2022, when Putin invaded Ukraine, the debate about further integration was fading. In 2023, the European Parliament did propose a reform of the European treaties, mostly about voting rights and changes to how the EU works internally. But even those pathetically insufficient ideas have since been dropped.

It was only this year, 11 years after Putin’s annexation of Crimea, and three after his invasion of Ukraine, that the EU started to panic. With the return of Trump, EU leaders finally realised that the combination of their under-investment in defence and their over-reliance on the US had left them dangerously exposed to global shocks.

There is a cliché about the EU that if only the crisis were big enough, Europeans might wake up and do the right thing. They had a financial crisis. They had a pandemic. They had Putin. They did not wake up. It reminds me of the Parable of the Drowning Man, about a devout Christian minister, trapped in a flood, refusing successive rescue attempts by boats and then a helicopter, all the while praying that that God would come and help him. The man drowned, and when in heaven, he asked God why he had refused to help. God responded: “What did you want from me? I sent you two boats and a helicopter.”

The EU has not drowned quite yet. It is at a point where it can choose between stepping into a US-made helicopter, or a European-made boat. My guess is that some Europeans will choose the boat. Others will choose the helicopter. And some will make no choice at all.


Wolfgang Münchau is the Director of Eurointelligence and an UnHerd columnist.

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