On May 19, during their first joint summit since Brexit, the European Union and the UK signed a security and defense partnership. The agreement came amid repeated threats from U.S. President Donald Trump to withdraw American troops from Europe. In just the first few months of his second term, transatlantic relations have become even more strained than during his first, when Trump openly supported Brexit and made no effort to hide his sympathies for Vladimir Putin. Now, with little sign that Russia’s war in Ukraine is ending anytime soon, Europe faces a serious challenge — one it should solve by focusing on developing its own defensive capabilities rather than deferring to Trump, argues Michael Kimmage, a professor of history at the Catholic University of America. Even under these conditions, it is possible to stand up for European interests, as demonstrated by Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky. Trump does not have enough time left in office to completely destroy relations with Europe, and the United States remains too dependent on its presence in Europe for the break to become irreversible.
Past is not necessarily prologue, but past precedent has its value. In the case of President Donald Trump, past precedent is his first term. His election was greeted with alarm in most corners when it came to questions about the future of the transatlantic relationship. President Trump did not speak about Europe or about the NATO alliance the way a conventional American president would. He championed Brexit and seemed to hold the European Union in disdain. He was dismissive of Ukraine, which he tended to associate with corruption, and he was at the very least admiring of President Vladimir Putin, if not of Russia per se. It was very common in 2017 to frame President Trump’s arrival in the White House as the end of an era. The transatlantic divide had grown too great. Trump rhapsodized about “America first.” Europe could appear to be on its own.
Any number of transatlantic divides appeared between 2017 and 2021, but Trump’s first term did not exactly mark the end of an era. He pressured Europeans to spend more on defense, and on trade and commerce he presented Europe not as an array of allies but as a competitor. But at the same time, President Trump welcomed two new countries into the NATO alliance. His administration increased defense spending on Europe, and perhaps most consequentially, the Trump team sent lethal military assistance to Ukraine. These were the selfsame Javelin anti-tank weapons that proved invaluable to the Ukrainian military in the first few weeks after Russia’s massive invasion of February 2022. In no way did NATO collapse in Trump’s first term. The transatlantic relationship stayed intact. President Biden, when he took charge, could revive the transatlantic relationship precisely because it was still there.
Old ties, new scandals
Trump’s second term is obviously quite different from the first. A war rages in Europe, sharpening the question of how the United States approaches the transatlantic alliance and of what it intends to do about Ukraine. Trump is also a second-term president, a far more dominant figure at home than he was the first time around, a president invested with greater zeal to do things. Trump has subdued the Republican party’s once formidable internationalist wing, and the Trump administration is now trying to eviscerate the foreign-policy establishment, to unsettle the institutions that have underpinned “Atlanticism” — the bond of affection between the United States and Europe. Trump’s Vice President, J.D. Vance, is obviously skeptical about Europe, whereas Trump’s first-term Vice President Mike Pence had been an internationalist and an Atlanticist at heart.
As radical and novel as Trump’s second term in many ways is, it may well replicate the pattern set in the first term. Trump will speak a language that can seem hostile to large parts of Europe; he will engage in conflict with individual European countries and with the European Union; he will not reassure; and he will be happily unpredictable in his manner of conducting foreign policy.
However, while enjoying the controversy he is generating, his actual policies will still hew to the basic status quo, ensuring a relationship with Europe that lacks the standard optics but that still retains the effects of partnership: major flows of investment and high levels of trade; a functioning security relationship in which Europe is contributing more and more defense spending, and in which the U.S. continues to do a great deal to enhance European security; and a collective refusal to grant Russia a sphere of influence in Ukraine. Even if the latter were to transpire, Europe would have a troubled but still sustainable relationship with the United States, and the United States would have a sustainable relationship with Europe.
While enjoying the controversy he is generating, Trump’s actual policies will still hew to the basic status quo, ensuring a relationship with Europe that lacks the standard optics but that still retains the effects of partnership.
The ties between Trump and Europe
Two pillars of European support exist for the Trump administration. The first is one of affinity: Europe is anything but a political monolith, and it cannot be said that opposition to Trump unites Europeans. American politics does not map onto Europe coherently. American politics is a world unto itself, but Trumpism can reflect common transatlantic trends. The Trump administration itself draws inspiration from Viktor Orban’s Hungary. Far-right parties and governments in Scandinavia (and across Europe) share the same appetite for less permissive immigration policies that the Trump administration has championed. Slovakia applauds the Trump administration’s enthusiasm for a negotiated settlement to the war in Ukraine. In short, Trump’s polarizing cultural conservatism has its echoes in Europe. One could even speak of a transatlantic version of soft power that radiates out from the White House, for which one could use the imprecise term “populist.”
The second pillar of support is pragmatic. For the majority of Europeans, Trump is a foreign-policy and an aesthetic problem. In his foreign policy, Trump is quixotic. Trump, who has enough difficulties with the institutions of American government, has no interest in European institutions and little interest or affection for the institutions of the transatlantic relationship. He cannot be relied upon, which is almost an existential dilemma for European countries given their dependence on the United States for defense. The aesthetic problem is what Trump represents – to many Europeans, at least. He can symbolize the ugly American, one who seems to inhabit the far-right of the political spectrum: un-European in his attitudes toward gender, toward the environment, toward gun control and toward religion. Aesthetic disgust with Trump and with Trump’s America compounds the foreign-policy Trump imposes on Europe’s NATO members.
Were European strategic autonomy to be possible, it would hold enormous attraction for those Europeans who are frightened and repulsed by Trump. Yet European autonomy will not be possible for many years, and even then it would become possible only if European countries would be willing to spend lavishly on defense and to coordinate their militaries. The challenge of deterring Russia, however, is today’s challenge. It cannot be deferred for years. If the United States were to withdraw precipitously from Europe, Europe would have to scramble to support Ukraine, the survival of which would immediately be put into question by an absent United States. In such a case, Europe would have to figure out a strategy of twenty-first century deterrence. In order to deter successfully, it is necessary to be able to escalate. Without sufficient military means, Europe on its own would be unable to escalate against Russia. Europe would be subject to blackmail and to pressure campaigns, its very autonomy up for grabs.
If the U.S. were to withdraw precipitously from Europe, Europe would have to scramble to support Ukraine, the survival of which would immediately be put into question.
Pragmatism dictates that Europe hedge. It is a frustrating policy for Europe, as hedging, by its very nature, does not guarantee that the United States will remain in Europe. But hedging is Europe’s sole option, and it can be woven into separate lines of effort. One is not to defer to Trump, even if some European leaders would be willing to do exactly this.
Though Trump seeks out deference, he is not necessarily swayed by deference; he can receive it as a temporary gift, and most European countries are not in the mood to defer to Trump. It could be politically costly for any European leader who goes too far, who flatters too much, who bows too low.
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky has shown that a European leader can choose not to defer to Trump, that he can at first pay a price for doing so — the brief withdrawal of military aid to Ukraine after an amazingly public blow-up between Zelensky and Trump — but that he can then do business with Trump after the storm blows over. Zelensky is hedging with the United States, and he is making some headway using an approach without much deference.
Another line of effort for Europe involves investing in its own defense. If strategic autonomy is not to be acquired soon or easily, it can be acquired step by step. Nor is it incompatible with hedging against an American exit from Europe. Trump will soon have expended about ten percent of his second term and he has not withdrawn from Ukraine, not dismantled the NATO alliance, and not pulled U.S. troops out of Europe.
Should he travel in this direction policy-wise, he will likely not do so overnight. The slower Trump moves in this regard, the more Europe can carefully, cooperatively, and strategically fill in the empty space, preventing Ukraine from encountering excessive hardship while maintaining the tools necessary for deterring Russia in Europe. Europe will surely hedge until the moment Trump makes hedging impossible, and that moment is unlikely to come.
Why Trump won’t withdraw
The sentiments that undergird the transatlantic relationship do not speak to Trump, and if he does withdraw, it will be despite the fact that the United States has an acute interest in maintaining a military presence in Europe. But Trump does not organize American foreign policy around democracy or around the territorial integrity and sovereignty of European countries.
For whatever reason, Trump seems more comfortable around non-European leaders than around European leaders. Political narratives rooted in the First World War, the Second World War, and the Cold War — those affirming a shared transatlantic striving for liberty — may surface now and then in Trump’s speeches, but they are not the narratives he relishes embracing. The narratives on Europe that Trump prefers are often those that position the continent as a cynical recipient of U.S. military aid and a manipulator of U.S. trade.
Most likely, Trump will stay in Europe for the simple reason that regional order and stability there is essential for the United States. Should war creep from Ukraine into Europe more broadly, the consequences would be terrible for the United States. Europe’s economy is organically connected to the U.S. economy. Peace in (most of) Europe means greater investment in the United States from Europe, more consumption of American goods and services, and the persistence of a Europe that can be a vehicle for American investment. American prosperity relies on European peace. The U.S. military presence in Europe has never been philanthropy, and it has never been driven entirely or primarily by sentiment. It is a clear-cut U.S. interest.
Europe also enables U.S. power projection in Africa and the Middle East. In his second term, Trump has authorized military strikes in Yemen. Israel may call on U.S. military support in coming months, which Trump could be tempted to provide, and Iran, even in its current weakened state, may provoke military action from the United States while Trump is president.
To negotiate with Iran, which Trump seems eager to do, the threat of force may be useful. That threat of force will wind its way to U.S. military assets in Europe. Because he clearly wants to project power in the world, Trump will almost certainly not deprive himself of the means to do so. At this point, Europe’s interest in keeping the United States in Europe harmonizes perfectly with Trump’s desire to be the president of a dynamic superpower.
At this point, Europe’s interest in keeping the United States in Europe harmonizes perfectly with Trump’s desire to be the president of a dynamic superpower.
Contingency and personality could derail the transatlantic relationship. China’s possible invasion of Taiwan could drive a wedge between Europe and the United States while simultaneously forcing trade-offs on Washington that could amount to a U.S. withdrawal from Europe. Personalities in an age of social media can clash at any moment, unpredictably and to disastrous effect. Yet the recent German election points in the exact opposite direction. Friedrich Merz, who has pledged some half trillion dollars in German defense spending and speaks persuasively of a Europe that can defend itself, is the European politician Trump has been asking for since 2017 – and the European politician he did not have in his first term. Their path and the transatlantic path will be rocky at best. It will not be straight, but there is just enough convergence of interest on the transatlantic path for the relationship itself to be sustainable. That which is sustainable has the potential to be sustained.