Trump is forcing Europe to compress it into a decade
For the first time since the Cold War, Europe is not merely adjusting its defense posture — it is reconceiving the very architecture of its security. Driven by Russia's war in Ukraine and a deepening uncertainty about American commitment under a presidency that has made loyalty its central currency, European nations increased defense spending by twenty percent in a single year, reaching $574 billion combined. What is unfolding is not a budget adjustment but a civilizational reckoning: a continent long sheltered beneath another's guarantee is being asked, abruptly and without a clear transition plan, to stand on its own. The NATO summit in Ankara arrives at this precise inflection point, where the old Atlantic order has not yet ended and the new European one has not yet begun.
- Trump's announced withdrawal of fighter jets, destroyers, submarines, and five thousand troops from Germany has opened a strategic gap that European forces cannot yet fill — leaving the continent partially blind without American intelligence and missile defense networks.
- The timing is brutal: Europe is being asked to rearm faster precisely as the American assets it depends on are being removed, creating what analysts call the most dangerous deterrence interval since the early 1990s.
- Washington is simultaneously demanding European rearmament and resisting European strategic autonomy, perceiving moves toward independent procurement and command structures as acts of disloyalty rather than the self-sufficiency it claims to want.
- The Ankara summit is testing whether NATO can survive its own reinvention — the draft declaration speaks of a 'stronger Europe within a stronger NATO,' but the phrase papers over a fundamental contradiction that no communiqué can resolve.
- Senior NATO veteran Jamie Shea has named the only viable path: Europeanize the command structure, build a political engine around France, Germany, Poland, the UK, and Italy, and standardize equipment across an alliance that currently fields five fighter jet types and fourteen armored vehicle variants.
Europe is rearming at a pace not seen since the Cold War. Defense spending across NATO's European members jumped twenty percent in 2025 alone, reaching $574 billion — the largest single-year increase since 1953. But the numbers tell only part of the story. What is really happening is a fundamental restructuring of how Europe thinks about its own security, driven by two colliding forces: the war in Ukraine and a growing conviction that the United States can no longer be relied upon as its ultimate guarantor.
Trump's return to the presidency has accelerated this reckoning. He has called NATO a 'paper tiger' and questioned European loyalty. More concretely, his administration has announced the withdrawal of fighter jets, strategic bombers, destroyers, submarines, and five thousand troops from Germany — decisions made, in part, after Chancellor Merz criticized the U.S.-Israeli offensive against Iran. The message was unmistakable: loyalty, as Trump defines it, carries a price.
The danger lies in the gap. Europe is being asked to do more at the precise moment American capabilities are being removed. Without U.S. intelligence networks, space-based collection, and data-fusion systems, European forces would still have weapons — but they would be operating with a slower, shallower operational picture. Missile defense would be less effective. The continent would be partially blind.
A NATO summit in Ankara on July 7 and 8 will test whether the alliance can navigate this transition. The draft declaration speaks of 'a stronger Europe within a stronger NATO,' but the phrase conceals a deep paradox: Washington wants European rearmament, yet resists European strategic autonomy, increasingly reading independent procurement as hostility rather than the self-sufficiency it demands.
Jamie Shea, a senior NATO official for nearly four decades, has named what he sees as the only viable path: Europeanize NATO's command structures, build a political engine around France, Germany, Poland, the UK, and Italy, and standardize equipment across an alliance that currently operates five fighter jet types and fourteen armored vehicle variants. The fragmentation itself is a vulnerability.
Trump did not create Europe's dependence on American security guarantees — but he has brought it into sharp, unforgiving relief. The summit in Ankara will measure whether Europe can build the capabilities and the political will to stand without that guarantee. The outcome will shape the alliance's structure for decades to come.
Europe is rearming at a pace not seen since the Cold War ended. The numbers alone tell part of the story: defense spending across NATO's European members and Canada jumped 20 percent in a single year, 2025, reaching a combined $574 billion—the largest annual increase since 1953. Over the past decade, these same countries have added $1.2 trillion to their military budgets. The total NATO spending now approaches $1.6 trillion annually. But the numbers mask a deeper, more urgent reality. Europe is not simply spending more money. It is fundamentally restructuring how it thinks about its own security, driven by two colliding forces: the war in Ukraine and a growing conviction that the United States can no longer be counted on as the guarantor of European defense.
Donald Trump's return to the presidency has accelerated this reckoning. He has called NATO a "paper tiger" and repeatedly questioned the "loyalty" of European allies. More consequentially, his administration has announced concrete cuts to U.S. military presence on the continent. Fighter jets will be reduced by a third. Strategic bombers will be cut in half. Destroyers, submarines, tanker aircraft, and armed drones will no longer be contributed. Five thousand troops are being withdrawn from Germany, including an armored brigade combat team and a long-range fires battalion. A program to deploy Tomahawk missiles on German soil has been frozen. These decisions were made after German Chancellor Friedrich Merz criticized the U.S.-Israeli offensive against Iran. The message was unmistakable: loyalty, as Trump defined it, came with a price.
The timing of these demands and withdrawals creates what analysts describe as the most dangerous interval for European deterrence since the early 1990s. Europe is being asked to do more at the precise moment when American capabilities are being removed. The gap between the loss of U.S. assets and the arrival of credible European replacements is not merely a logistical problem. It is a strategic vulnerability. Without American intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance systems, without space-based collection, without signals intelligence and data-fusion networks, Europe would still have weapons and sensors. But the operational picture would update more slowly, with less confidence, with less depth. Missile defense would be less effective. The continent would be partially blind.
A NATO summit scheduled for Ankara on July 7 and 8 will test whether the alliance can survive this transition. The draft declaration circulating among allies speaks of "a stronger Europe within a stronger NATO," but the phrase masks a fundamental paradox. Washington is pushing Europe to rearm, yet it is unwilling to relinquish strategic control or abandon the expectation that European rearmament will translate into purchases of American weapons systems. The urgency of capacity gaps—particularly in missile defense, where the consumption of Patriot and THAAD interceptors during the Iran war has created acute shortages—is forcing European capitals to buy American systems even when their industrial strategy points elsewhere. For decades, "Europe doing more" meant spending more on NATO priorities defined by U.S. leadership and buying more U.S. weapons. The current push toward European procurement and strategic autonomy is disrupting that balance. Washington increasingly perceives this shift as an act of hostility.
Jamie Shea, a senior NATO official for 38 years, has articulated what he sees as the only viable path forward: "There's no going back to the old Atlantic Alliance, and there's no alternative to plan B, which consists of a European-led NATO, based on a European command structure and force model." This is not a choice Europe wanted to make. It is a choice being forced upon it. The transition was supposed to take 20 or 30 years. Trump is compressing it into a decade. Shea proposes three simultaneous actions: Europeanizing NATO's command structures by replacing American officers with Europeans and appointing a European forces commander; creating a European Security Council led by France, Germany, Poland, the United Kingdom, and Italy as the political engine of a genuine defense union; and deepening EU financial mechanisms to standardize equipment and reduce fragmentation. Today, NATO's European allies operate five different types of fighter jets and 14 types of armored vehicles. The fragmentation itself is a vulnerability.
The question now is whether NATO can reinvent itself quickly enough to survive. Trump did not create the underlying problem—Europe's dependence on American security guarantees and its own military atrophy—but he has brought it into sharp relief. In the Oval Office, he summarized his doctrine toward European allies with a single phrase: "We don't need their money, we don't need anything. We have the most powerful military in the world by far, but I just want loyalty." The summit in Ankara will be a test of whether Europe can build the capabilities and the political will to stand without that guarantee. The outcome will shape the alliance's structure for decades to come.
Notable Quotes
There's no going back to the old Atlantic Alliance, and there's no alternative to plan B, which consists of a European-led NATO, based on a European command structure and force model.— Jamie Shea, former senior NATO official
We don't need their money, we don't need anything. We have the most powerful military in the world by far, but I just want loyalty.— Donald Trump, summarizing his doctrine toward European allies
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why is Europe suddenly spending so much more on defense now, after decades of relative restraint?
Because the old arrangement is breaking down. For 75 years, Europe outsourced its security to America. That was cheaper, easier, and it worked. But Russia's invasion of Ukraine shattered the assumption that the threat had passed, and Trump's rhetoric made clear that American protection could no longer be taken for granted.
But Europe is still buying American weapons systems, right? So isn't it just spending more money on the same relationship?
That's the paradox. Yes, Europe is buying American systems—partly because they're good, partly because of real capability gaps that only America can fill right now. But the political direction is toward independence. Europe wants to build its own command structures, its own intelligence networks, its own industrial base. Washington sees that as disloyalty.
What happens in that gap between when America pulls out and Europe builds up?
That's the dangerous part. Europe loses access to American satellites, intelligence networks, data fusion. The operational picture becomes slower, less clear. Missile defense becomes less effective. It's the most vulnerable moment for deterrence in 30 years.
Can Europe actually build all this in a decade?
That's the question everyone is asking. The timeline was supposed to be 20 or 30 years. Trump is forcing compression. It requires not just money but political will—standardizing equipment across 14 different armored vehicle types, replacing American commanders with European ones, creating a unified political structure. It's possible, but it's extraordinarily difficult.
What does Trump actually want from Europe?
He said it plainly: loyalty. Not partnership, not alliance as a mutual commitment. Loyalty—the kind that flows in one direction. Europe is trying to figure out what that means while also building the capacity to survive without it.