Trump is waging a three-front war on Europe over Ukraine, security dependence and trade, shocking longtime allies who are now scrambling to develop a counterstrategy
In just two months, the new Trump administration has rattled Europe’s sense of security. For decades, amid the Cold War, the 1990s conflicts in the Balkans and Russia’s recent invasion of Ukraine, Washington’s commitment to European security was the bedrock upon which its continental allies built their defence strategies.
However, in a short space of time, Trump has taken a sledgehammer to longstanding assumptions—whether about Ukraine, trade, or defence cooperation. French senator Claude Malhuret was so shaken by events that he called Trump a ‘traitor’.
For his part, Britain’s former ambassador to Washington, David Manning, declared to a House of Lords select committee, “This is not a blip in the relationship, something fundamental is going on.”
European leaders have been quick to react, trying to come to terms with both the short-term challenges around Ukraine and Trump’s trade sanctions while making long-term security plans for a world where the US may no longer come to Europe’s aid. After decades of one of the world's closest economic and security partnerships, are Trump’s America and Europe headed for a geopolitical divorce?
An unprecedented rupture
This is far from the first US-European disagreement, but the scale and stakes feel unprecedented. Before World War I, the US was reluctant to play any role in Europe’s security. After the war, America quickly withdrew its forces, opting for an isolationist foreign policy in the 1920s and 30s.
The same instincts were evident after the Second World War. Even though the US had mobilised millions to defeat Nazi Germany, initially President Truman was reluctant to commit to European security. However, the perceived expansionism of the Soviet Union after the war prompted renewed vigour from Washington towards Europe. This led to the 1947 Truman Doctrine, the 1948 Marshall Plan and the 1949 creation of NATO, laying the foundations for a deep commitment to European security and prosperity that has lasted until now.
There were, of course, ruptures along the way. For example, in 1966, France withdrew from NATO’s military structure (though not NATO itself), while many European states expressed their doubts over the US war in Vietnam. In the 1980s, the UK objected to Ronald Reagan’s invasion of Grenada, and France and Germany led opposition to the 2003 US invasion of Iraq.
While most Europeans support the Ukraine war, few are willing to pay higher taxes to fund more defence spending
Yet, these incidents were usually centred on specific policies and never saw all European states united against the US. Moreover, no one questioned the overall benefit of the close US-Europe relationship. Indeed, the general picture has been one of closer alignment. NATO expanded after the Cold War to draw in central and eastern European states, while military cooperation over the Ukraine war after 2022 saw the US and European militaries working at their closest level in years.
This context is partly what has made the past few months so shocking for European leaders. Many recalled Trump's first term in office, which, despite his demands for increased military spending from allies, did not ultimately prove detrimental. At the time, some hoped that Trump's more disruptive instincts could be placated with flattery, such as Britain extending a rare second state visit invitation from King Charles or Poland suggesting they name a base, 'Fort Trump'.
But the reality of Trump's first months in office has swiftly exposed the futility of such tactics. In his speech, Malhuret stated that "in one month, Trump has done more harm to America than in four years of his last presidency." The same might be said of his impact on the US-Europe relationship.
Ukraine war
European leaders have made dramatic changes in response to Trump's actions in the past few months, but enormous challenges remain. The most obvious and immediate is Ukraine and its fallout. European governments view supporting Kyiv as the first line of defence against an expansionist Russia. They favour a peace deal, but only one that Ukraine agrees to and doesn't open Europe's door to Putin.
Trump's abrupt end to the Biden-era policy of isolating Russia by engaging Putin, sending Secretary of State Marco Rubio to meet a Russian delegation in Riyadh on 18 February, was therefore unnerving. In the days that followed, Trump appeared to have accepted Putin's narrative on the war, blaming Kyiv and labelling Volodymyr Zelenskyy "a dictator."
Barely a week later, Zelenskyy was in the White House himself, ostensibly to sign a $500bn mineral deal that Trump had demanded as 'repayment' for past aid. But the meeting descended into a very public fallout, with both Trump and vice-president JD Vance attacking the Ukrainian leader for a perceived lack of respect and gratitude.
Zelenskyy's abrupt departure from the White House was followed by Trump's freezing of all military aid to Ukraine. European leaders have since tried to rescue Ukrainian-US ties with some success: Zelenskyy was invited to the next inconclusive US-Russia summit in Saudi Arabia. But Trump's evident desire to end the Ukraine war as soon as possible, even if it benefits Putin, and his public mauling of an ally, Zelenskyy, has raised serious alarm bells.
Norway has since pledged €4.3bn and £2.2bn in loans to Ukraine. The EU has proposed doubling last year's aid to €40bn but has struggled to get approval from all members. For its part, Kyiv says these funds need to be more rapidly translated into armaments. But even so, it won't solve Ukraine's chronic manpower shortage nor provide adequate replacement for US-manufactured patriot missiles that are key to Kyiv's air defences.
Should Trump ultimately pull the latter, Europeans cannot easily replace them, and, moreover, their own militaries will be overly dependent on the US for intelligence gathering and tech. Despite their will to continue supporting Ukraine without the US, European governments know they can only do so much.
This has no doubt contributed to a renewed effort to create mechanisms to ensure whatever peace might be agreed upon is robust and in Ukraine's interests. Soon after Zelenskyy's humiliation at the White House, London hosted a conference from which the US was formally absent to hash out a four-point plan. The result was the announcement of a slightly ambiguous 'coalition of the willing' of various states, led by the UK and France, aimed at helping Ukraine and securing a viable peace.
London insisted there must be a willingness for Europe to do the 'heavy lifting' to guarantee a peace deal and a willingness to put 'boots on the ground' in terms of peacekeepers to ensure Russia doesn't renege on any deal. The goal seemed to be both aimed at swaying the US in its negotiations with Russia while also providing a fall-back plan if Trump abandons Kyiv.
Indeed, there have been some successes, with Zelenskyy's attendance in the latest Saudi Arabian talks and the US's proposal of a 30-day ceasefire both believed to be the result of British and European lobbying. Even so, there is little doubt that the situation for both Ukraine and the Europeans is perilous. These measures may help Kyiv hold the line in the short term but are a shadow of the support afforded to Zelenskyy under Biden.
The European strategy is currently to find ways to keep Trump engaged and to hold together the Kyiv-Washington relationship as best it can. But if this proves impossible, and Trump either cuts an unfavorable deal with Russia over Zelesnkyy's head or simply pulls US funding and walks away, Europeans know they would likely have to do their best to defend Ukraine and Eastern Europe on their own with minimal capacity, while risking Trump's ire in the process.
European security
The second related target has been the US commitment to general European security. In early February, Trump's defence secretary, Pete Hegseth, suddenly announced that the US would no longer be the "primary guarantor of security in Europe." Days later, Vance told the Munich Security Conference that the "enemy within" was a greater threat to Europe than either Russia or China.
On 6 March, the European Commission presented an €800bn plan to increase European defence spending—a move that was largely endorsed across the political spectrum. Denmark's centre-left premier, for example, insisted Europeans must "Spend, spend, spend on defence and deterrence." The package included €150bn of cheap loans for countries to spend more on defence.
This has come amid a dramatic shift in attitude. Friedrich Merz—expected to become the new chancellor of Germany—which was long opposed to heavy military spending, slashed Berlin's strict spending rules and announced, "the rule for our defence now has to be 'whatever it takes'."
Meanwhile, individual governments have heeded this call. The states closest to Russia have led the way, with Estonia upping their defence budget to 5% of its GDP, Poland to 4.7% of its GDP, and Finland aiming to reach 3.3% by the early 2030s.
Outside of the EU, the UK has used the crisis as a means to rebuild broken bridges after Brexit, emphasising its commitment to a common European defence by boosting its spending to 2.5% of its GDP by 2027—necessitating painful welfare cuts. Even Switzerland, long staunchly neutral, has mooted closer security cooperation with its neighbours.
Since its creation, European NATO members have built their defences on the assumption of a continued US presence and access to US weaponry and tech. Were this to end it would take years and billions of Euros to replace.
Within a few weeks, the US went from Europe's closest ally to a source of economic pain
Moreover, the US currently has 90,000 troops in Europe, including 20,000 in the Baltic states, Poland and Romania. If these troops, weaponry, and tech are withdrawn, Europeans would need to spend far more than the proposed 2-4% of their GDP to come close to replacing them.
A related issue is where to find the money. Most polls suggest that while Europeans support the Ukraine war and fear Putin, few are willing to pay higher taxes or see their welfare bills slashed to fund increased defence spending, especially in states a long way from the front line. But even if they find the money, they lack the troops, with few bar the Scandinavian countries employing conscription and few young Europeans being drawn to underpaid careers in the military.
But, of course, not all Europeans support the new pro-security climate. Hungary's Viktor Orban, who is sympathetic to both Putin and Trump, has repeatedly blocked EU defence initiatives and called early EU responses to Trump's talks with Putin a "meeting of losers."
Populists also govern or are in coalition in Italy, Slovakia and the Netherlands and have raised different concerns over plans to spend big on defence. Populist opposition in many states, on both left and right, have similarly objected.
While there is currently consensus among European leaders, except for Orban, such unity is far from guaranteed moving forward. And, of course, for a continent-wide defence plan to work, buy-in is needed over a long period.
Trade
This has been underlined further by the third target: trade. As promised, Trump has levied tariffs on allies, and Europe was no exception. In March, he initially raised a 25% tariff on all steel and aluminum imports into the US. A war of words swiftly followed. After Europe proposed a 50% tariff on American whiskey in response, Trump threatened a 200% duty on all alcohol coming from the EU.
The situation remains fluid, but as The Economist noted, European governments have a host of different chokepoints available to put pressure on Washington. However, as it also noted, "pulling some of those levers would be so damaging as to make them unusable."
The net result is that within a few weeks, the US went from Europe's closest ally to a source of economic pain. The shared prosperity underpinning the relationship going back to the Marshall Plan appears to have evaporated overnight.
While European leaders have been considered complacent by critics in the past, the shocks of early 2025 have jolted them into action. Trade tariffs and counter-tariffs have been explored, but efforts have focused primarily on Ukraine and the wider question of European security. On the latter, the European Union and several leading governments have dramatically boosted defence spending.
Trump's unpredictability
A further challenge is the uncertainty around both Trump and his legacy. Trump showed in his first term that he is unpredictable and inconsistent. One realistic concern for European leaders is that they plan on the assumption that the close European-American relationship is over, only for Trump to change tack.
Right now, though, this seems unlikely, and given they cannot predict the future, most European leaders think it is wiser to plan for the worst and hope for the best. Similarly, Europeans have understandable questions over whether this rupture will only last as long as the Trump presidency.
Assuming that Trump does not seek to change the US constitution and pursue a third term—which cannot be ruled out entirely—in 2028, a successor will be elected. Four years of rupture with Europe might make it hard for a Democrat president to easily reboot back to Biden-era relations. Meanwhile, a Republican leader—possibly Vance—will likely continue Trump's policy.
Given these uncertainties, few Europeans will risk taking a 'wait it out' approach and will press on with plans for a post-American Europe. There are also further questions about the future of NATO and Europe's relationship with other non-European NATO members, such as Türkiye and Canada, which will be thrown up by these changes.
Türkiye's President Recep Tayyip Erdogan (L) and Ukraine's President Volodymyr Zelenskyy attend a meeting of the NATO-Ukraine Council during the Nato Summit in Vilnius on July 12, 2023.
Middle East impact
For the Middle East, the most immediate effect of these changes is that one of its closest and most prosperous regional neighbourhoods, Europe, will likely be distracted and inward-focused. With a priority on internal defence and security, European governments will have less bandwidth and capacity to focus on its Middle Eastern neighbours.
Already, aid budgets are being slashed to fund new defence spending, which could impact Middle Eastern communities that are in need. The UK, for example, has slashed overseas aid from 0.5% to 0.3% of GDP, with programmes in Syria and Yemen, which were the fourth and fifth greatest recipients of UK aid in 2023, likely to be impacted.
Support for Palestinians impacted by the Gaza war and the ongoing conflicts in Libya and Sudan could similarly be reduced. In the past, European governments have been among the first to pledge aid when conflicts broke out in the Middle East, but their willingness to do so in the future may diminish.
A related impact on the region could be that Europe's focus on internal defence affects the willingness to intervene militarily in Middle Eastern disputes. In the past, the UK played a leading role in the Iraq war of 2003 and, alongside France, led the NATO response to the 2011 crisis in Libya. Both states also joined the US in bombing Bashar al-Assad in Syria, while a broad selection of European states joined the anti-Islamic State (IS) coalition in Iraq and Syria.
In the short term, a desire to keep military assets in Europe to face Russia might mean a reluctance to send them to the Middle East. However, in the medium term, once militaries have been rebuilt and the threat from Russia subsides, beefed up European states may turn their attention back to the Middle East.
Given their proximity, it is unlikely that European states will disengage from the Middle East entirely, even if distracted. Türkiye, Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Egypt and Morocco remain valuable partners in a wider geostrategic competition with Russia.
US President Donald Trump (R) meets with Israel's Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in the Oval Office of the White House in Washington, DC, on February 4, 2025.
In recent decades, most leading European states have aligned with Washington in the region, but that could change if the US is no longer seen as a primary ally. Israel-Palestine policy, for example, has the potential to diverge given the closeness between Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu and increasing criticism of the right-wing Israeli government among Europeans.
There will also likely continue to be economic interaction between the two regions—especially in energy markets. Any possible trade war between Europe and the US could benefit Middle Eastern suppliers as European states seek alternatives to American gas and oil. In general, any fallout between the US and Europe will weaken the West as a collective.
This will continue the global power balance shift of recent years, whereby European governments—once keen to shape the Middle East around their agendas—will be more accommodating to Arab interests in pursuit of their wider geopolitical goals. Meanwhile, Trump will continue to be Trump, unpredictable to both friend and foe alike.
Conclusion
Whether 'divorce' is the right word to describe the rupture between Europe and Trump's America remains a matter for debate. Many might argue whether they were ever truly 'married', especially given the US' close relationships with other states and regions like the Pacific, East Asia and Israel.
But whatever metaphor we use, something has seriously shifted in the old US-Europe relationship, and it looks like Europe will have to change its approach to security and trade. It remains unclear how this will impact an already changing global order—one that is increasingly multipolar and dominated by great power competition but also provides opportunities to middle powers.
