A “political storm” continues to rage across the European continent. While it is not yet a real-life version of the Norwegian TV series Occupied (2015)—in which the U.S. leaves NATO, and Russia seizes the opportunity to invade Norway—the reality is that Europe must now take responsibility for its own security. This is no longer fiction but a tangible situation where many familiar actors are taking on new roles.
One of them is French President Emmanuel Macron, who is making an ambitious bid to become Europe’s military leader. In a recent address—ostensibly directed at French citizens but clearly meant for an international audience—Macron laid out almost Napoleonic plans. These ranged from pledging to stand up to Russia and support Ukraine to offering Europe the protection of France’s “nuclear umbrella” should the American one suddenly be “folded up.”
However, whether these “Napoleonic plans” will actually be realized is a big question. Macron is one of those figures whom Azerbaijanis ironically refer to as dil pəhləvani—a “warrior of words,” meaning his declarations and promises far exceed his actual deeds. Throughout the course of the war in Ukraine, Macron has repeatedly promised to send French troops, provide military aid to Kyiv, and so on. Yet, at the same time, he has also proposed “saving the Kremlin’s face” through territorial concessions—naturally, at Ukraine’s expense. It was Macron, after all, who attempted to launch a trial balloon for reconciliation with Moscow following the terrorist attack at Crocus City Hall. Thus, his newfound role as the leader of an anti-Russian front is, to put it mildly, unconvincing.
France’s ability to replace the American “nuclear umbrella” with its own also raises serious doubts—especially now, after being unceremoniously expelled from Niger, a key supplier of uranium. Furthermore, seasoned observers recall how potential buyers have repeatedly backed out of purchasing French fighter jets and submarines due to France’s failure to meet delivery deadlines and its habit of inflating contract prices post-signing.
More importantly, Europe requires not so much a “nuclear umbrella” but a steady supply of conventional forces and weaponry. Here, France is unlikely to replace the U.S., particularly given how its military is being systematically pushed out of its former colonies.
A more logical ally in this context is Turkey, which possesses the second-largest army in Europe and NATO. Furthermore, Ankara has made it clear at the highest level that no pan-European security system can be built without Turkey—especially now. And it has been quite transparent about the “political price” of its cooperation: restarting EU accession talks, meaning Turkey’s membership in the European Union.
So far, Europe has remained officially silent on the matter. The response has been limited to invitations for President Erdoğan to attend European defense summits. However, European leaders have far less time to deliberate on this issue than they might wish.
Here’s where things get interesting. Many in Europe may throw barbs at Donald Trump, accusing him of “destroying transatlantic unity” and “betraying allies,” but they must also face certain realities. During the Cold War, America’s European NATO allies at least made an effort to fulfill their defense obligations: they maintained powerful armies, produced and procured weapons, and so on. However, after the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 and the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, many European countries began systematically reducing their military expenditures.
Military strategists and propagandists across the world prefer to talk about “fighting spirit,” “martial traditions,” and “duty to the homeland” rather than budget allocations in dollars and euros. But the truth remains: military readiness is highly sensitive to funding. If funding is cut, combat effectiveness immediately declines. As a result, the German Bundeswehr, once one of Europe’s strongest armies, is now practically non-operational. And Germany is not alone. It’s not that European nations ignored security concerns—they simply outsourced the problem. They saw no real threat of a major war in Europe and assumed that, in the worst-case scenario, the U.S. would step in. Even after the outbreak of the war in Ukraine, many EU nations barely altered this mindset.
It was Ukraine, after all, that bore the brunt of the fighting, grinding down Russian military power, while the U.S. footed the bill. Meanwhile, European governments continued diverting military budgets to social programs—essentially buying votes—and raised an outcry whenever Washington or NATO leadership reminded them of the need to raise defense spending to at least 2% of GDP, as stipulated by the North Atlantic Treaty. Political priorities in Europe shifted toward securing victories in the next elections, often by catering to niche voter groups—from welfare recipients and the far-right to the LGBTQ+ community.
And now, Donald Trump has made it clear: The free ride is over. The U.S. will no longer fully finance European security or the war in Ukraine. This means Europeans will have to take responsibility for their own security—or at least stop blatantly shifting the burden onto others. Hence the panic in government offices, the frantic search for solutions, and the sheer disarray: cutting social spending is undesirable, increasing military budgets is necessary, and—most importantly—security issues, as the war in Ukraine has demonstrated, are not something that can be postponed until tomorrow.
Europe still has options. But it may no longer have the time.
Nuran
Translated from minval.az
