Europe's Moment of Truth Is About More Than Just Ukraine | Opinion

This week is among the most consequential in post-war European history. The betrayal of Ukraine by President Donald Trump was hardly unexpected, but its execution—brazen, humiliating, and incredibly public—has left Europeans in shock. Without condoning the vulgarity of Team Trump, the shock may be useful. There are already signs that Europe is finally waking up.

It wasn't just the spectacle of the U.S. president and his vice president berating Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky in the Oval Office, accusing him of risking World War III, demanding more thanks, and kicking him out. The real outrage came prior when Trump's people attempted to extract $500 billion in critical minerals for continued U.S. support—while he was falsely calling Zelensky a dictator who started the war.

Zelensky came expecting to finalize some sort of compromise on the minerals and presumably to clear the air. Instead, he walked into a trap that showed clearly that America wants to end the war on Russian President Vladimir Putin's terms. It was a moment that stripped away wishful thinking and forces a reckoning—about much more than Ukraine.

For decades, Europe has outsourced its security to the United States, flirting with free-riding on the American defense umbrella while allowing its own military capabilities to wither. The underfunding of NATO was a chronic problem long before Trump turned it into an axe to grind. Leaders in Berlin, Paris, and Brussels spoke of a strong, independent Europe but never took real action.

Moreover, Henry Kissinger's quip—"Who do I call when I want to speak to Europe?"—remains as true today as it was half a century ago, and that is no small problem. The European Union, which originated with the free trade and customs agreements of the 1950s, never fully resolved the contradiction at its core: an ambitious supranational project constrained by national rivalries, bureaucratic inertia, and an aversion to hard power (caused by the trauma of starting two world wars).

The grand vision of an "ever closer union" enshrined in the Maastricht Treaty of the 1990s hit reality in the 2000s when attempts to forge a European constitution collapsed in the face of French and Dutch popular resistance. Efforts to create an EU presidency also floundered in a swamp of competing power centers and polysyllabic titles. The euro crisis exposed deep fault lines between the north and south, and the UK's stunning Brexit vote in 2016 underscored the fragility of the entire project.

Now, as America signals its retreat, the question is no longer theoretical: Can Europe step up?

In recent days, Germany's Friedrich Merz, the likely new chancellor, stated that Europe must wean itself off dependence on America. Meanwhile, UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer has made it clear that he'd put muscle (if Britain had any) behind supporting Ukraine, and EU leaders have lined up to back Zelensky.

These are promising signs, but the obstacles remain formidable. As I know from years covering the EU, the European instinct is to debate rather than to act, to hedge rather than to commit. Even in the face of Russian aggression, there has been squabbling over defense spending, over arms shipments to Ukraine, and over whether it is wise to provoke Putin too much. Eastern Europeans, who understand the Russian threat most viscerally given their miserable decades of Russian-imposed communism, have found themselves out of step with some Western capitals still clinging to illusions of diplomacy.

There is no escaping reality now. Trump's inner circle—Vice President JD Vance, his advisors, and the growing chorus of far-right European parties they support—are not merely indifferent to Ukraine; they are actively invested in dismantling the postwar order that America itself has led. Trump has no fidelity to the democratic values whose spread America has purported to champion and envisions a world where he, Putin, and China's leader Xi Jinping can divide the global spoils into spheres of influence.

The other two share his goal as well as his method. For this to happen, Europe must be a collection of mid-size and small countries, not a unified behemoth. This is why they all support nationalist and EU-skeptic movements all over Europe, whether through Elon Musk's tweets or Putin's armies of bots. Make no mistake: while Euroscepticism is legitimate, the vast majority of Europeans do not back it. This is why you increasingly hear from them that America under Trump may no longer be an ally.

They are starting to figure out that Vance's performance at the Munich Security Conference, where he all but took Putin's side against Europe, was not an aberration. The flirtation with Germany's far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD), the overt support for hard-right nationalist movements in Romania and elsewhere, and the repeated insinuations that NATO is little more than a protection racket to get money from America all form an obvious pattern. That's the long-term plan; Ukraine is just the opener.

If Europe continues business as usual, the consequences may be catastrophic for the entire security architecture of the continent. A Russian victory in Ukraine would embolden Moscow and send a signal to every autocrat with territorial ambitions that the West lacks the will to defend itself. What's left of NATO's credibility would vanish, and the EU itself would be in danger.

There are signs of movement. Public opinion in Europe has hardened against Russia, and there is a growing recognition that strategic dependency on the U.S. is untenable. Judging from statements from European leaders meeting in London this week, military budgets will soar, and the idea of a European army will be discussed. Even in Britain, where Brexit was supposed to mark a break from Europe, there is clear remorse, with a majority believing it was a mistake and serious discussion brewing about rebuilding ties with the continent. What Europe does in the coming weeks will determine whether it can finally emerge as a geopolitical actor in its own right—or whether it will remain what it has been: a collection of countries with economic clout but no real power.

For Europe to act strongly and in concert will require difficult internal discussions, as national interests and political dynamics inevitably clash with unity. Illiberal leaders like Hungary's Viktor Orbán will likely obstruct efforts at deeper integration. In France, Marine Le Pen's nationalist right will resist policies that cede sovereignty to Brussels, framing them as betrayals of the nation-state.

These tensions will be compounded by a legitimate debate about the role of national identity in a more federalized Europe. How much power should remain with individual governments versus being pooled at the EU level? What can be decided collectively, and what remains under domestic control?

These are not trivial questions, but the logic of European unity remains powerful. The United States has a population of almost 350 million, giving it the economic and geopolitical weight to act decisively on the global stage. China's population is projected to decline drastically, possibly falling to around half a billion in the coming decades due to demographic collapse. Russia is contracting too.

Despite the low birthrate in many countries, Europe currently has close to half a billion people—a fact that, if harnessed strategically, could allow it to operate as a true global superpower. Combined with Britain, it has an annual GDP of $24 trillion compared to America's $27 trillion (and this is with the former communist countries still growing fast in their race to catch up). If major players like France and Poland—often at odds on matters from security to migration—can find common ground, they could rival the United States in influence, setting standards on trade, technology, defense, and diplomacy rather than merely reacting to American or Chinese decisions.

Whether or not Britain decides to rejoin, one country that does need to be in the EU is Ukraine. Zelensky will probably have to give up some land, but Europe should fast-track Ukraine's membership and provide the security guarantees that Trump seems inclined to withhold. If Europe abdicates its responsibility and Ukraine falls, it will soon find itself defending its own borders. In such a scenario, relying on America under Trump would be a gamble. He could use future negotiations to extract concessions, such as rights to the champagne industry, attempts to seize North Sea oil, or demands that Europe take in America's immigrants and pay for their transport, too.

There are no limits anymore. Limits were a concept of the 20th century.

Dan Perry is the former Cairo-based Middle East editor and London-based Europe/Africa editor of the Associated Press, the former chairman of the Foreign Press Association in Jerusalem, and the author of two books. Follow him at danperry.substack.com.

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.