The Political Necessity: Europe Must Claim Strategic Autonomy
The Political Necessity: Europe Must Claim Strategic Autonomy
This piece has been a labour of love for a while. Versions of it have been sitting around for months. The oldest draft dates back to early 2025. I kept putting it off, tweaking it, updating it, telling myself I’d come back to it later.
Then a headline made me raise an eyebrow. A conversation followed. Then another. At some point, walking along the coast, it all clicked into place. After a period of frustration and, honestly, a bit of grief, I’ve landed somewhere closer to acceptance.
I’ve never hidden the fact I’m a Europhile. But I also grew up with a baseline respect and admiration for the United States. That wasn’t blind loyalty it was based on shared values, shared interests, and a sense that when things really mattered, America would show up. I’m writing this while listening to an American band, which makes the whole thing feel slightly absurd.
But I’m done pretending nothing has changed. I’m not buying the “American drink” anymore. Not after how Canada, Ukraine, and others have been treated. The penny has dropped. What little trust and goodwill I had left has been burned away by the current direction of travel in Washington.
This isn’t about one bad week or one bad headline. Something deeper has shifted.
Things that once felt theoretical no longer do. Ideas that were unthinkable a few years ago are now being discussed in private, and increasingly in public.
That alone should set off alarm bells.
Europeans are now planning for multiple outcomes. There are options on the table and none of them are painless, for either side. Diplomatic signals are already being sent, sometimes through leaks, not to escalate but to make one thing clear: Europe is serious, and it is not weak.
For the first time in decades, most Europeans are seriously questioning the transatlantic relationship an alliance that has shaped our security for over eighty years. The United States has always exerted influence, but now it interferes openly, erratically, and at times aggressively. We have senior figures openly undermining allies, flirting with territorial claims, and encouraging political destabilisation abroad. Dealing with America increasingly feels like dealing with Jekyll and Hyde.
That realisation didn’t arrive all at once. It crept in. I’ve watched far-right conspiracy theories migrate from fringe forums into mainstream politics. I’ve seen previously unthinkable ideas normalised in real time. What began as concern slowly turned into an “oh shit” moment: the recognition that hoping this all blows over is not a strategy.
Part of the problem is the information environment itself. Most people were never taught how to think critically about media, algorithms, or manipulation. Online spaces reward agreement, not accuracy. Algorithms push whatever keeps you engaged, not whatever is true. That makes societies easier to divide, easier to radicalise, and easier to influence from the outside. And this is no longer accidental. External actors have learned how to exploit these systems, and Western governments have been slow or unwilling to respond.
Europe cannot deal with this alone. But we also can’t pretend the old assumptions still hold.
Mutual Dependence, Unequal Risks
American power remains immense militarily, economically, culturally. What many Americans seem to forget is how much of that power depends on partnerships. If you’ve ever played a real-time strategy game, you understand this instinctively: alliances matter. Logistics matter. Supply lines matter.
The British Empire didn’t collapse because it suddenly became weak. It collapsed because maintaining global dominance without sustainable alliances became too expensive. World War II nearly bankrupted Britain outright. The lesson was learned once. It now appears to be forgotten.
The United States doesn’t just like having Europe as a partner it needs Europe. Its global military posture relies on access to European ports, airfields, infrastructure, and supply chains. NATO is not just a mutual defence pact; it is a giant logistics machine. Remove Europe from that equation and America’s ability to act quickly in the Middle East, Africa, or beyond degrades sharply.
This is where the contradiction emerges. The same political forces in Washington that deride alliances as weakness continue to rely on the benefits those alliances provide. That tension isn’t theoretical. It has real consequences.
You cannot fight wars alone. You need fuel, food, spare parts, transport, and people. You need friendly territory. The invasion of France in World War II required Britain as a staging ground. The invasion of Iraq required regional cooperation. Ignoring that reality isn’t strength it’s strategic illiteracy.
The Illusion of Autonomy
America frequently accuses Europe of dependency, while quietly ensuring that dependency never fully disappears. U.S. defence firms have no interest in a Europe capable of building and sustaining military capability at scale. Boeing and Lockheed Martin don’t want another Airbus.
The same dynamic exists outside defence. Europe’s digital infrastructure is heavily dependent on American companies. Cloud services, platforms, payment systems critical parts of modern life are controlled elsewhere. That creates choke points. As long as everything runs smoothly, this dependency is invisible. When politics intrudes, it becomes a vulnerability.
Europe has regulatory power, and it has used it. But regulation alone is not sovereignty. Fragmented enforcement, cross-border tax conflicts, and restrictive labour mobility create a high-friction environment that discourages investment and scale. We allowed ourselves to become dependent because it was cheaper and easier in the short term. Now that dependency is being tested.
Strategic Complacency
Europe gambled on interdependence. We assumed globalisation would bind everyone into roughly compatible interests. That assumption failed.
China didn’t play by those rules. It planned for power. It secured resources, invested in industrial capacity, and accepted costs others were unwilling to bear. Cheap energy, adaptable factories, long-term thinking these weren’t accidents.
Europe, meanwhile, treated strategy as something slightly embarrassing. Defence was underfunded. Industrial capacity was outsourced. Energy resilience was neglected. We assumed someone else would handle the hard parts.
The rare earth problem exposes this complacency perfectly. Modern weapons systems rely on materials that Europe does not control and does not process at scale. Supply chains run through geopolitical rivals. When those chains are disrupted, capability evaporates.
Hoping the United States will always step in to cover that gap is no longer credible.
Defence, Industry, and Mass
Ukraine has shattered many comforting illusions about modern war. High-tech systems matter, but they do not win wars on their own. What decides outcomes is the ability to produce and sustain mass shells, drones, air defence, vehicles, and replacements over time.
Europe is wealthy enough to do this. What it lacks is coordination. Defence budgets are rising, but they remain fragmented. Multiple overlapping weapons programs, incompatible standards, and small-batch procurement drive up costs and reduce effectiveness.
Europe needs a defence industrial base that can deliver at scale. That means prioritising the boring, essential stuff wars actually depend on, and building it here. Not to replace alliances, but to ensure they rest on capability rather than hope.
Temporary Order
Maybe the post-Cold War order was always temporary. What matters is that it is ending now.
Europe cannot base its security on the assumption that America will “return to normal”. Strategy built on hope is not strategy at all. The only viable response is resilience.
That means accelerated rearmament that produces real capability, not just headlines. It means securing supply chains and strategic technologies. It means political hardening against interference, regardless of where it comes from.
The uncomfortable truth is that America First contains a contradiction it cannot escape. It rejects the alliances that made American power possible while continuing to rely on them. That conflict is not going away.
Europe already has the population, wealth, industry, and regulatory power to matter. What it has lacked is the willingness to act like it. Eighty years of automatic alignment are over. The world is shifting, and pretending otherwise will not protect us.
Strategic autonomy is not about isolation. It is about standing on our own feet so cooperation is a choice, not a dependency.
Page 2 – Europe’s Options and the Cards on the Table
Page 1 outlined the problem the shift in the transatlantic relationship, strategic complacency, and Europe’s vulnerabilities. Now it’s time to look at the practical implications: the scenarios Europe is forced to plan for, the options it has, and how it can use its existing tools and leverage to secure its own interests. This isn’t theoretical anymore; these are the cards on the table.
Planning for the Unthinkable
Europe isn’t ignoring reality. Diplomatic leaks, quiet meetings, and contingency planning are already underway for outcomes that would have seemed unthinkable only a few years ago. Greenland, for example, is no longer just a distant territory on a map; it has become a strategic asset because of the location and resources it holds. Europe is not preparing these scenarios to provoke conflict, but to signal something far more basic: even aggression from a supposed ally would carry consequences.
The recent seizure of the Marinera oil tanker off the waters between Iceland and Scotland is a useful reminder of the leverage Europe already possesses. NATO infrastructure isn’t decorative. It’s functional. Ports, airspace, shipping lanes, insurance markets, and logistics hubs sit overwhelmingly on European soil. American companies rely heavily on European ports, shipping firms, and transit routes to function globally. That dependence cuts both ways.
No serious planner wants escalation. But it would be naïve to pretend Europe lacks options. Access can be restricted. Routes can be complicated. Costs can be raised. Pressure does not need to take the form of tanks or missiles to be effective. Allies in Asia and beyond are watching these dynamics closely and could coordinate if needed to protect shared interests.
Supply chains are an equally fragile pressure point. Rare earths, semiconductors, energy components many of the systems modern economies rely on pass through geopolitical choke points or depend on infrastructure controlled by others. Europe can no longer assume these flows will remain untouched if politics intervenes. Planning for disruption isn’t paranoia; it’s basic risk management. Hypothetical scenarios include Greenland, Iceland, and even Canada territories whose strategic or resource importance could become flashpoints. Military planners have already modelled these possibilities, not to provoke, but to ensure preparedness.
Behind closed doors, political and military planners think through worst-case scenarios precisely so they never happen. That includes questions no one wants to ask aloud, such as what happens to foreign forces stationed abroad if alliances fracture, or how public sentiment shifts if a trusted partner crosses a line. We’ve already seen how quickly public opinion can turn, as in Canada, where political disputes translated into consumer boycotts and economic pressure almost overnight.
The point isn’t revenge. It’s deterrence. Europe doesn’t need to threaten it simply needs to demonstrate that it understands its own leverage, and is prepared to use it if forced. Awareness and credible preparation are tools as powerful as any weapon.
Defence, Industry, and Mass
Ukraine has shattered many comforting illusions about modern war. High-tech systems matter, but they do not win wars on their own. Outcomes are decided by the ability to produce and sustain mass shells, drones, air defence systems, vehicles, and replacements over time. One or two advanced systems cannot replace industrial scale.
Europe has the wealth, population, and expertise to deliver this. What it lacks is coordination. Defence budgets rise every year, but overlapping jet programs, small-batch procurement, and incompatible standards reduce efficiency and drive up costs. The same applies to drones, artillery, and munitions without integration, Europe pays more for less.
The solution is a European defence industrial base capable of producing at scale. That means prioritising the boring, essential systems wars actually depend on shells, drones, air defence and building them in Europe. Not to replace alliances, but to ensure they rest on capability and resilience rather than hope. Intelligence networks, recon satellites, and EU-wide operational capacity all fall under the same principle: autonomy built on capability.
A coordinated industrial base also strengthens deterrence. Allies and adversaries alike will notice when Europe can manufacture at speed, maintain supply lines, and sustain operations without waiting for external support. That credibility changes the calculus before crises even begin.
Strategic Leverage
Europe already has cards to play. Regulatory power, trade influence, and targeted industrial strategy are formidable tools. America’s own protectionist policies and subsidies reveal a double standard: it expects open markets from allies while aggressively protecting its industries. Europe can respond in kind smart, targeted, coordinated.
Even sanctions and economic contingency planning are now being discussed privately. Capitals are considering measures to signal that if the unthinkable happens Greenland, Iceland, or other strategic territories are militarised or seized there will be tangible consequences. These are not idle threats; they are credible leverage backed by economic, logistical, and regulatory weight. Diplomatic signalling can be subtle but effective: leaks, coordinated statements, or regulatory reviews send clear messages without crossing a line.
Securing Supply Chains and Technology
Critical dependencies on China and the US are vulnerabilities. Chips, cloud infrastructure, rare earths, satellites, these are not optional; they are strategic lifelines. Europe must invest in securing them: building domestic capacity, alternative supply chains, and protective stockpiles.
Hypothetical scenarios like the Reverse Uno in Russia’s Far East where China could exploit a weakened Russia to control key resources demonstrate the need to think several steps ahead. Other territories, like Greenland, Iceland, or Canada, figure into similar calculations. These moves are not just about military power; they are about economic and geopolitical resilience.
It isn’t about isolation. It’s about ensuring that Europe can stand on its own if a crisis cuts access off. When capability exists, cooperation becomes a choice, not a necessity. Strategic autonomy is insurance, not ambition.
Political Hardening
Autonomy isn’t just about tanks and tech. It’s political. Europe must safeguard its decision-making from external interference Washington, Moscow, Beijing, or otherwise. The far-right, aware of the EU’s power, is actively trying to capture and exploit it. Internal resilience, transparent institutions, and informed citizens are as critical as factories and bases.
Even smaller, subtle interventions like influencing court decisions (think the Tate brothers case) or lobbying via “free speech” pretexts show why Europe cannot afford to rely on goodwill. For the British, action must accelerate. Honest, blunt conversations need to be had, even if they consume political capital. Strategic autonomy requires confronting uncomfortable truths head-on.
Conclusion: Standing Tall
The era of complacency is over. Europe has the tools, the resources, and the capacity to act. The choices are hard, and none of them are painless. But strategy built on hope or alignment with an unreliable partner is a recipe for disaster.
Europe’s path is clear: prepare, harden, and act with autonomy. That is how the continent preserves its security, influence, and future. Strategic autonomy isn’t about going it alone it’s about making sure that if Europe must, it can. And when it can, cooperation becomes strength, not obligation. Europe has the cards. The question is whether it will play them wisely.
For any American reading this: I bear no ill will toward you. I still enjoy your Marvel movies and all the things I’ve admired about your culture. But right now, the United States could be walking into a blunder of epic scale. I don’t blame all Americans only certain leaders and policies. What’s happening goes against everything I, as a European, hold dear.
Like an old friend standing on a cliff edge, we may need to stop you from jumping not just for ourselves, but for you. Congress and the Senate won’t do it. This should serve as a reminder that democracy must be defended and cannot be taken for granted. Perhaps we still underestimate the dangers of the far right.
And, on a cheeky note: don’t fight us. We are rather good at war we’ve been doing it for hundreds of years, before taking a long break.