Europe only has itself to rely on

John Kampfner is a British author, broadcaster and commentator. His latest book “In Search of Berlin” is published by Atlantic. He is a regular POLITICO columnist.

When it comes to the war in Ukraine, predictions don’t last long. One minute U.S. President Donald Trump’s acting like his Russian counterpart Vladimir Putin’s emissary, the next he’s giving Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy a reasonable hearing, and then it’s back again to the Kremlin camp.

With the U.S. administration increasingly taking on the role of unreliable broker over a staunch ally, Europe is in a parlous position. And what has struck me most during a series of security briefings and conferences I’ve attended in Berlin and elsewhere this autumn, is the extent of the alarm. Yet, much of the time, this remains hidden behind closed doors.

One of the few crumbs of comfort is that the E3 nations of Germany, France and Britain are seeking to confront this cold reality in unison. After the trauma of Brexit, and all the bickering between former German Chancellor Olaf Scholz and French President Emmanuel Macron in recent years, the mood has changed — because it had to.

If Europe is to survive a future attack by Russia — and that is the kind of language being used — its big players must behave in a way they haven’t done before. They must be joined at the hip.

As more than a dozen officials have made clear in a series of discussions, the cost of inaction would be far greater than the cost of supporting Ukraine has been so far. Not only would Putin be emboldened to go even further, Europe would also be engulfed by a wave of Ukrainian refugees far greater than anything experienced before.

And this realignment was visible amid the pomp and circumstance of German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier’s state visit to the U.K. last week, as both he and King Charles affirmed what they described as a deep bond between the two countries — one that’s been reinforced by the shared threat of Russian expansionism.

Meanwhile, the real business taking place at the government level is intense. British Prime Minister Keir Starmer and German Chancellor Friedrich Merz have developed a genuine affinity, stemming from a shared view of current foreign-policy perils and their domestic-policy troubles. A British prime minister of the center-left and German chancellor of the center-right are finding common cause in their double adversity.

The loss of the U.S. as a friend in need is what’s forcing this realignment for both countries. Of course, neither publicly dares admit the situation is as bad as it is, but the optics say everything that needs to be said. Just compare Trump’s state visit in September — with its high security, taut smiles and desperate obsequies by his hosts – and the relaxed conviviality of Steinmeier’s.

And dominating everything is security — though it’s less a “coalition of the willing” and more a “coalition of the surrounded.” Or, as one German security official, granted anonymity to speak freely, explained: “If the Americans are now acting as mediators between Russia and Europe, they no longer see themselves as partners within NATO.”

In practical terms, the U.S. is still the driving force behind the alliance, notionally at least. As another German military figure, also granted anonymity to express their views, put it: “The harsh truth is that Europe’s readiness level to combat any Russian aggression doesn’t yet exist. Until that time, we are reliant on the U.S. to act as a backstop.”

But that penny should have dropped last February, when U.S. Vice President JD Vance dropped his various bombshells at the Munich Security Conference, attacking European democracies, praising the far-right Alternative for Germany party and serving notice that the U.S. no longer felt beholden to past allegiances. The real surprise is that anyone’s been surprised by the Trump administration’s actions since then.

Even now, some are continuing to cling to the hope that this isn’t the united view in Washington, and that others within the administration still wield a certain influence. This isn’t how security planners in Germany or the U.K. see things, but it seems many politicians — and much of the public — are yet to be convinced of just how serious the situation has become.

Their alarm will have been reinforced by the second Trump administration’s first National Security Strategy. Published only a few days ago, it condemns many of the liberal values underpinning European democracy, while praising the nativist, nationalist rhetoric of the far-right — and implicitly of Putin. 

Previously, the dominant narrative around Europe was about German reluctance, whether brought about by postwar guilt and pacificism or complacency. But while that has been replaced by a new determination, exactly how deeply is it entrenched?

The commitment across NATO to increase defense spending to 5 percent of national GDP — 1.5 percent of which can be spent on “critical infrastructure” — certainly allows for much budgetary dexterity. But Berlin’s borrowing power gives it a freedom its neighbors can only envy. Britain’s financial travails are considerably more acute, and for all his tough talk, several defense contractors suspect Starmer is going slow on defense orders.

As it stands, Germany is expected to spend €153 billion a year on defense by 2029. France, by comparison, plans to reach about €80 billion by 2030, and the U.K. currently spends £60 billion — a figure set to rise to £87 billion by 2030 — but looking at current predictions, will only hit its 3.5 percent target in 2035.

For the governments in London and Paris, budgets are so tight and public service spending requirements so great — not to mention debt interest payments — the push-and-pull with security needs will only become more intense.

And while opinion polls vary from country to country and depending on how questions are phrased, the growing concern among many defense officials is that if Ukraine is pressured enough to accept some form of Trump-Putin dirty deal, public support for military spending will decrease. “Job done” will be the sentiment — except, of course, it won’t be.

For Putin, it can’t be. The Russian leader has tied his political survival, his power infrastructure and his country’s economy to the notion of an encircling Western “threat.” Hence his recent remarks about Russia being “ready” for war if Europe wants to start one — he simply can’t afford to stop invoking threats.

But the original 28-point plan for Ukraine — which the U.S. initially denied came directly from the Kremlin — represents Europe’s worst nightmare. And if a spurious “peace” is imposed by any deal approximating that one, Germany, the U.K., France and their other European allies, including Poland, Finland, the Baltics, Nordics and (more cautiously) Italy, will know they’re out on their own.

It would mark the return of big-power politics, a Yalta 2.0. It would enshrine NATO’s de-Americanization, a structural incapacity for Ukraine to defend itself, and confirm that, as far as the U.S. is concerned, Russia enjoys a veto on European security.

“We say it’s existential, but we don’t yet act as if it is,” said one British defense official, speaking on condition of anonymity. The task for Merz, Starmer and Macron is then to accept — and admit to their publics — that they only have each other to rely on.