For years, Europe’s influential circles and large segments of the American elite convinced themselves that Trump’s first term was a one-off anomaly—an aberration that would not happen again. He faced numerous charges, was convicted in several cases, and politically, he clashed with many respected veteran Republicans—only to push them aside. When Russia invaded Ukraine, many assumed Trump’s past ties to Moscow would derail any hopes of re-election, a belief reinforced by President Biden’s success in handling economic issues. And when Biden withdrew from the race, many thought the Democrats had finally rid themselves of their biggest liability: an aging president struggling with both his health and cognitive sharpness.
Concern rippled through European capitals following President Trump’s decisive election victory, only to deepen further as he distanced himself from Republican figures well-known to Europeans and seasoned in international affairs—figures like Jim Mattis, Mike Pompeo, Rex Tillerson, John Bolton, Henry McMaster, and Nikki Haley. His picks for key administration roles sent mixed signals. His choices for National Security Advisor, Secretary of State, and special envoy, Lt Gen (ret) Keith Kellog, offered reassurance. But naming his Secretary of Defense and Director of National Intelligence stirred renewed apprehension.
Over the past decade, the tone and substance of the U.S. president’s speeches have frequently raised alarm. Until last week, however, that concern was tempered by the fact that words had not translated into concrete actions or decisions. Europeans had come to accept that some of the criticisms directed at them were not entirely unfounded—after all, the United States shoulders no less than a third of Europe’s defense burden, often more. Back in 2018, Trump declared the European Union “the biggest enemy,” consistently praised President Putin while disparaging European leaders, expressed deep hostility toward Ukraine, and echoed Russian claims, some of which were demonstrably false. His rhetoric also included repeated attacks on free trade principles and the very foundations of NATO, along with statements questioning American commitments to mutual defense agreements.
One account recalls President Trump expressing astonishment that the United States would risk its own cities to protect a small Baltic state. Dozens of similar statements could be listed, but perhaps the most significant takeaway is, first, the deep-seated hostility toward Europe, liberalism, collective defense, and alliances—seeing them primarily through the lens of transactional deals. Second, Trump aligns with a school of thought that views a fragmented Europe as beneficial to American interests, as it weakens European actors and undercuts their negotiating power. In contrast, another school of thought in the United States favors a strong, unified Europe that speaks with one voice, arguing that such cohesion ultimately strengthens America by enhancing coordination and reducing diplomatic inefficiencies.
However, Trump’s actual record in his first term often ran counter to his rhetoric. He was the first US president to send weapons to Ukraine, bolstered the American military presence in Poland, and took a hardline stance on nuclear issues. His criticism of Europe’s glaring security and defense shortcomings was, in many ways, justified—echoing concerns raised by previous US presidents and politicians, albeit in a far less diplomatic tone. In reality, some European countries—most notably Germany—could fairly be seen as free riders, strengthening Russia’s economy through energy deals while simultaneously relying on Washington for protection and contributing little to collective defense at a time when Europe needed to step up so that the United States could concentrate on its strategic priorities in Asia. It’s also worth noting that the trade balance between Europe and the United States overwhelmingly favors the former.
Of course, there’s another side to the story—one that Trump often overlooks. European countries have been purchasing US weapons in large quantities, and most have responded, albeit grudgingly, to his forceful demands for increased defense spending, even though their spending levels still fall far short of what is necessary and expected.
What I mean is that Trump’s first-term record was ambiguous—open to interpretation—sparking behind-the-scenes debates in Europe about his real intentions and the gravity of his threats. Was his rhetoric merely a form of political blackmail, or did it signal a deeper shift in US policy? The more optimistic camp pointed to the unrealistic nature of some of candidate Trump’s promises—such as his pledge to end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours—which many dismissed as empty campaign rhetoric. Others, however, warned that Trump has a history of turning words into action, making his threats far more concerning.
A key question emerged: How much influence did the so-called “wise men” of Trump’s first administration wield over his decisions? Were they restraining him, or was he always firmly in control? Last week, the answer became glaringly obvious. It is also worth noting that Trump has adopted a distinct approach at the start of his new term—a relentless flood of consequential decisions and sweeping statements, overwhelming opponents, analysts, and adversaries alike. Yet, he has retained his signature leadership style: allowing his administration officials to publicly voice their opinions. This tactic enables him to gauge reactions to each statement, sow confusion, and keep his options open.
In just a matter of days, a series of statements concerning the Ukraine war and European affairs have surfaced. The United States President announced that he had contacted President Putin and was planning a summit with him, likely in Saudi Arabia. His remarks—and those of his aides—suggested that he had conceded to most, if not all, of Putin’s demands before negotiations even began, seemingly accepting Putin’s narrative. He is engaging with Putin as if they are negotiating on equal terms. According to this approach, Russia will not be expected to withdraw from the territories it has occupied, relations with Moscow must be normalized, and it should be reinstated in the G8. Ukraine will be kept out of NATO, and presidential elections in the country should take place as soon as possible. Additionally, the US President is insisting that Ukraine compensate the United States for its military support by granting it rights to exploit its rare earth minerals. He further stated that the United States would not provide security guarantees, nor would it deploy ground forces in Ukraine to separate forces. Meanwhile, his defense secretary declared that defending Europe is no longer a US priority and that American military presence on the continent is not indefinite. On top of that, the American president has urged European countries to increase their defense spending to 5% of GDP—an unrealistic demand given the current financial constraints facing Germany, the UK, France, and Italy.
At the Munich Security Conference, the US Vice President delivered a speech in which he claimed that the biggest threat to European security comes from within. He pointed to restrictions on free speech (he refers to curbing hate speech and “fake” news), along with illegal immigration and the terrorism it brings, as well as the failure of elites to heed public sentiment when it contradicts their preferences. His speech included several references that hinted at US support for far-right factions in Europe, as well as remarks made by Elon Musk about the German elections, yet he did not utter a single word about Russia or the war in Ukraine.
To be fair, the Vice President did highlight real and pressing issues, particularly the widening gap between elites and the general public. He also skillfully posed a philosophical question: Do the principles of the rule of law grant the right to silence political voices that represent large segments of society? However, his speech was widely seen as blatant interference in Europe’s internal affairs, a perception reinforced by his meeting schedule. The most striking aspect of his address, though, was the complete silence on the ongoing Russian-Ukrainian conflict and the hybrid war Russia is waging against Europe—something many found deeply alarming.
Beyond other key issues, one thing is clear: Europe will not be part of the negotiations, despite demands from the Ukrainian president. There are also lingering doubts about whether Kyiv will be involved at all, despite subsequent clarifications. European leaders were taken aback by the “audacity” of holding talks that would impose obligations on them without any prior consultation. From their perspective, the current US stance represents a shift from the positions hinted at in leaked reports last December (which, for instance, mentioned delaying a decision on Ukraine’s NATO accession). It seems that President Trump has agreed to exclude General Kellogg from the negotiations at Russia’s request. Meanwhile, Washington appears set on pressuring Europe to purchase American weapons to compensate for the security gap left by the US withdrawal. As several experts at the Munich Conference pointed out, this administration’s approach gives the impression that it views Europe as an adversary and Russia as a partner. American rhetoric and actions increasingly suggest the presence of an intentional strategy aimed at sowing divisions among European countries and weakening the European Union.
There isn’t enough space to track every reaction from European officials and experts, but some key responses stand out. The British leaked reports indicating that they would be unable to meet the required increases in defense spending. They also admitted that they lack a strategy to ensure their land, air, and naval forces are combat-ready simultaneously, forcing them to prioritize. Meanwhile, NATO is pushing the UK to focus on missile and air defense systems. Germany’s Defense Minister remarked that he isn’t the world’s most important and famous deal maker and that if he were, he would know that he doesn’t take any essential point of negotiations off the table before the negotiations begin. The French Foreign Minister firmly stated that no one dictates Europe’s political system. Meanwhile, the Polish Foreign Minister and Lithuania’s President voiced deep concern, subtly criticizing the US President’s remarks. For her part, the European Commission President said she will propose an emergency clause that would allow governments greater leeway so that military expenditure would not be counted in their tightly controlled budget deficit limits—a significant initiative that aligns with France’s position and could provide crucial support.
The core problem is that the domestic political landscapes in Germany, France, and the United Kingdom make it difficult to respond swiftly and effectively to the unfolding events. Add to this the growing rifts between Berlin and Paris. Moreover, the countries currently capable of taking action—Poland, Spain, and Italy—lack a unified vision or a coherent political strategy.
This situation presents both a moral dilemma and a significant political issue—despite the well-known reality that morality holds limited weight in politics. While the United States has valid reasons to be frustrated with Europe’s inaction, it is Ukraine that is paying the price for this frustration. Ukraine did not fail to uphold any commitments—it was never a NATO member to begin with, its people have paid a heavy toll defending their homeland, and through their courage, they not only disrupted Russia’s plans for other countries but also contributed to strengthening European security, buying it valuable time.
President Trump’s decisions ultimately favor the stronger and more aggressive party—not because of anything Ukraine did, but for reasons entirely unrelated to the victim’s actions. The political problem lies in the message this sends to global actors—China, Russia, their allies, and even America’s own allies and partners. That message is clear: There is no real US commitment, any request for assistance will be met with blatant opportunism, and Western security guarantees mean little. This is the same message the Biden administration inadvertently sent when it withdrew from Afghanistan: every country must fend for itself or seek partnerships elsewhere.
