Behind the Scenes of NATO, Europe Is Falling Apart

 

Opinion

Guest Essay

Behind the Scenes of NATO, Europe Is Falling Apart

 

July 7, 2026

By David Broder

Mr. Broder is an expert on European politics and the author of “Mussolini’s Grandchildren.” He wrote from Berlin.

https://www.nytimes.com/2026/07/07/opinion/european-union-nato-trump.html

 

“Europeans assemble!”

 

This was the rallying cry of Kaja Kallas, the European Union’s foreign affairs chief, at this year’s Munich Security Conference. “We are getting there, dusting off our capes, pulling on our boots, revving up our engines,” she told the audience. Casting the European Union as a gathering of superheroes, Ms. Kallas cited a tagline often misattributed to the “Iron Man” movies: “Heroes are made by the paths they choose, not the powers they are graced with.” More military spending and a push for tech sovereignty, Ms. Kallas averred, would steel Europe’s resolve in an ever-tougher world.

 

Her words echoed the now habitual proclamations of the European Union’s “Independence Moment.” Stung by President Trump’s confrontational approach, the continent’s leaders are seeking to go it alone. For Chancellor Friedrich Merz of Germany, Europe “must become much more independent from the United States in terms of security policy.” President Emmanuel Macron of France has called for Europe’s “derisking vis-à-vis all the big powers in order to be much more independent.” European leaders now freely speak of charting their own course, arguing for more European semiconductor production, homegrown energy sources and even a joint nuclear deterrent. At the NATO summit this week in Ankara, Turkey, you can expect to hear much more about the pressing need for European self-reliance.

 

Yet for all the talk of the European Union protecting itself from outside threats, the greatest dangers lie within. A decade ago, Britain’s Brexit referendum raised fears that the bloc would splinter further. That did not come to pass. Today, though, it faces profound internal rifts. In both Germany and France, the union’s largest and historically most important states, far-right parties are closer to power than at any time since World War II. The problem doesn’t end there. Across the continent, whether in the Netherlands or Denmark, the Czech Republic or Bulgaria, parties long at the center of European politics have lost once-loyal electorates, as frustrated voters turn to eclectic alternatives. Turmoil, not tranquillity, is the norm.

 

The result is a paradox. At the continental level, Europe is coming together, as leaders boast of the bloc becoming ever more resilient. But at the member-state level, Europe is cracking up, as domestic politics becomes ever more volatile. That threatens to cast the continent into disarray, hobbling the European Union’s bid for independence and exposing it to the predations of the far right.

 

For the economic historian Adam Tooze, ours is an age of “polycrisis” — a buildup of disasters worse than the sum of its parts. In Europe, the long tail of the 2008 economic crisis, combined with the pandemic and today’s chronic wars, feeds a deeper sense that everything is going awry. Prices are going up, wages are staying still, and strained public services have to deal with aging populations and hotter temperatures. In this grim setting, the chief political question is whether governments can do more to reassure citizens than just put out fires.

 

The European Union’s response to the pandemic suggested that it might. After the financial crash, European leaders prescribed a harsh regimen of budget cuts, at great social and economic cost. As lockdowns spread in 2020, Europe’s leaders clearly couldn’t just demand further belt-tightening. Instead, the bloc broke its taboo on collective borrowing and plowed over 800 billion euros of grants and loans into the NextGenerationEU program.

 

That spending was meant not just to prop up incomes but also to build resilience. Most investment was earmarked for either green reindustrialization or digitalization. It was state support for private businesses, rather than a real public investment plan, but it marked a departure from the austerity dogmas of the past decade. The shift especially affected states’ fiscal room for maneuver, as deficit rules — often used in a selective and punitive manner during the debt crisis — were relaxed.

 

Spain and Italy, the two countries that received the most funding, show what was possible. Pedro Sánchez’s broad-left coalition in Madrid and Giorgia Meloni’s right-wing government in Rome are of contrasting political colors. Yet they share a common denominator: They each used postpandemic E.U. funds to generate growth, curb public debt and stave off political crisis. If today these leaders divide opinion, for years they managed to keep up higher approval ratings than most of their E.U. counterparts. Spain did especially well in cutting electricity bills and expanding the use of renewables; Italy extended its high-speed rail infrastructure.

 

The largess went only so far, however. Often, the cash just plugged holes in budgets, and many of the infrastructure projects begun are delayed or over cost. In 2019, the president of the European Commission, Ursula von der Leyen, called the European Green Deal the essential underpinning for the union’s long-term prosperity. Yet faced with both sustained resistance from climate-skeptic parties and pressure to expand military production, the bloc eventually watered down targets, including the planned phaseout of petrol cars. That was of a piece with the postpandemic funds, which yielded only stop-start progress in diversifying energy sources.

 

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine was a key turning point — and another missed opportunity. In response, the European Union cut economic ties with Moscow and sought to replace Russian gas altogether. Initially, European leaders pledged that would help accelerate the green transition and lead to greater energy independence. In practice, though, they turned to short-term fixes like hugely increasing gas supplies from the United States; some states even favored sticking with Russia. Germany shut its nuclear reactors while others, such as France, went the opposite way.

 

The war had another deleterious effect. As E.U. states wavered over aid to Ukraine, rearmament took on a life of its own. Across the continent, raising military spending became common sense. The shift is especially visible in Germany where, after the 2025 election, mainstream parties lifted limits on public spending — but only in connection to the military and related infrastructure. At the European level, defense started to edge out the Green Deal as the main purpose for collective borrowing. Programs like ReArmEurope and SAFE are now the focus.

 

Could this be a form of military Keynesianism? The €150 billion in SAFE loans are meant to stimulate reindustrialization and create jobs, after all, rather than just pay for weapons. The early evidence, however, barely supports these hopes. What’s more, some countries have been reluctant to take up the program. The biggest SAFE recipient, Poland, is roiled in conflict over whether to focus its military budget on European production or its existing U.S. and South Korean suppliers. In Rome, Ms. Meloni has started to back out of a planned €15 billion in SAFE loans, saying Italy’s pressing need is for help with energy costs.

 

The consequences are clear. After failing to parlay the postpandemic funds into long-term energy independence and a sustainable economic revamp, European leaders put forward remilitarization as the bloc’s unifying cause and underlying strategy. But unlike a full-throated green reindustrialization plan, it neither creates jobs in bulk nor mitigates against the price shocks that are so troubling European citizens. Nor do frustrated voters seem to be rewarding their leaders’ posture as defenders of their security. Instead, rising numbers are cynical and alienated — and increasingly drawn to the far right.

 

Behind it all is Mr. Trump. His attacks on the European Union — which his administration denigrated as being on the cusp of “civilizational erasure” — and his backing of nativist parties have been a major catalyst for the turn to European independence. But European self-reliance often seems like a plea for member states to simply better hold up their side of the Atlantic alliance. NATO’s secretary general, Mark Rutte, a former Dutch prime minister, seems convinced that Europeans’ main duty is to maintain U.S. interest in the alliance, even if that just means buying American weapons.

 

In a strange way, Mr. Trump’s hostility has pushed European leaders into a more craven dependence. Consider the trade deal that Ms. von der Leyen signed up to last July, ostensibly to ensure Mr. Trump’s continued commitment to European defense. Even as European leaders touted their resolve to go it alone, they submitted to an unequal deal in which they pledged to buy more American gas, swallow tariffs and drop duties on U.S. imports. After Mr. Trump threatened to seize Greenland, the deal was put on ice. But in May, the E.U. Parliament voted to go ahead with it.

 

The episode shows that no matter the antipathy toward Mr. Trump in Europe, America still calls the shots. The European NATO members that pledged 5 percent of gross domestic product to defense spending did so at Mr. Trump’s own request, after all. And spending isn’t everything. For leaders in a country like Poland, Washington remains a central ally, especially given the unpredictable politics of European heavyweights like France and Germany. The continent also remains heavily reliant on American tech firms, American energy and American payments systems.

 

Seen in this light, European self-reliance amounts to a renegotiation of Europe’s role as a junior partner to the United States. To adapt the quip made by Lord Ismay, who headed NATO in the 1950s, it’s about keeping the Russians out and the Americans in — while not worrying too much about Germany’s direction. This approach heavily guides European diplomacy: The goal, above all, is not to alienate Mr. Trump, even if that means hushing criticism of his aggression in the Caribbean and Middle East.

 

There is another way, though. This version of self-reliance would fashion Europe as a pillar of the global system, setting an example for the world on international law and the green transition. Such moves would hardly be selfless. Though Europe can’t slash global emissions alone, weaning itself off fossil fuels would help it avert future shocks of crises like the closing of the Strait of Hormuz. And the Trump administration’s recent sanctions on members of the International Criminal Court show that upholding the rule of law is, in the first instance, necessary to defend European citizens from harassment.

 

To stand on its own two feet, Europe would need to widen its alliances. On that score, there’s been some progress: The union has recently achieved trade deals with Latin American countries and India. But its approach toward China remains a running sore. In May, Ms. Kallas spoke of the need for either “morphine” or “chemotherapy” to deal with the “disease” of overdependence on China. Some leaders, notably Mr. Sánchez of Spain, have pushed for a more pragmatic approach, focused on technology transfers and conditioning foreign investment. Coupled with investment in areas where Europe is already strong like wind-turbine production, clean hydrogen technologies and bioenergy, that could be a recipe for economic renewal.

 

These are not just matters of geopolitics. A real route to independence would do much to bring together the continent, at both domestic and federal levels, and mend its tattered social contract. In Brussels, it would be a means to cheaper energy, better economic prospects and greater stability. There is no silver bullet: Even if Europe succeeded in cutting energy bills or creating jobs or reining in inflation, it wouldn’t make conflicts over immigration and identity disappear overnight. Yet it could give voters more confidence in the democratic process and help staunch some of their anger.

 

A NATO summit is a difficult venue in which to make good on claims of European independence. The organization is an alliance with America, after all. There are hard questions to answer about continental military production, defense collaboration and even a continental army. Still, for the benefit of its own citizens, the European Union needs to do more than answer to Washington’s expectations. Finally free from America’s shadow, it can protect the underpinnings of the European economy and start to win back voters tempted by the siren song of nationalism.

 

European ministers do not wear capes, as Ms. Kallas suggested. Yet she was right in one sense. Europe may not be graced with overwhelming powers, but it can choose a better path. It’s not too late to do just that.