Strategic autonomy—a state’s capacity to make decisions insulated from external pressures—sounds simple enough. At its core, it’s about exercising sovereign choice driven by national or collective interests. For Europe, however, this concept has been a riddle wrapped in history, ambition, and uncertainty for over three decades.
The debate ignited in the 1990s, sparked by the Balkan Wars, when Europe’s fragmented response highlighted its dependence on NATO and the United States. Fast forward to December 2009: the Lisbon Treaty birthed the Common Security and Defence Policy (CSDP), aiming to enable the European Union (EU) to manage military crises—either alongside NATO or independently. The EU Global Strategy of 2016 doubled down, spotlighting strategic autonomy as a cornerstone of Europe’s future. Then came French President Emmanuel Macron’s bold 2018 call for a European army, endorsed by then-German Chancellor Angela Merkel, followed by EU High Representative Josep Borrell’s 2020 plea for “a certain degree of autonomy” amid US-China tensions. Borrell’s cautious phrasing— “a certain degree”—betrayed the ambiguity still plaguing Europe’s vision.
Why the hesitation? Much of it stems from a lingering Cold War mindset. Europe’s history is a paradox: once a hub of colonial powers, it later became a battleground for superpower rivalries. Two World Wars ravaged the continent, followed by a Cold War tug-of-war between the US and the Soviet Union. Post-1991, NATO’s eastward expansion kept tensions simmering with Russia, even as outright hostility waned. This backdrop has left Europe caught between its past and its aspiration to chart its own course.
Enter the Russia-Ukraine war—a crucible testing Europe’s resolve. Initially, it seemed to delay the autonomy debate, as NATO unity took precedence. But Donald Trump’s return to the White House in 2025 has upended that narrative. His proactive push to end the conflict—halting military aid to Ukraine, negotiating directly with Vladimir Putin (securing a 30-day pause on energy strikes), and bypassing European NATO allies—has rattled the continent. These moves, executed without consultation, signal a potential unravelling of the post-World War II security framework that Europe has leaned on for decades.
Europe’s strategic autonomy debates, born in the 1990s post-Balkan Wars, remain tangled in a Cold War mindset, complicating its path to independence. Meanwhile, Trump’s America First approach, evident in halting aid to Ukraine to unilateral talks with Putin, has jolted Europe
Two Perspectives on Trump’s Gambit
Trump’s actions can be viewed through dual perspectives. First, they align with his “America First” ethos—a transactional diplomacy prioritising US interests. His second term has amplified this stance: withdrawing from the World Health Organization (WHO), slashing over 90 per cent of the contracts of US Agency for International Development’s (USAID), and cutting $60 billion in global aid. His frustration with NATO’s European members, whom he accuses of freeloading, is no secret. Trump’s approach suggests a recalibration of America’s global role, pulling back from its traditional mantle as Europe’s protector.
Second, on a broader canvas, Trump’s moves reflect a world where Europe’s strategic clout is waning. Asia and the Middle East are stealing the spotlight. Saudi Arabia and Türkiye, for instance, have emerged as key players in the Russia-Ukraine conflict, hosting peace talks and leveraging flexible diplomacy to engage all sides. Their multilateral agility contrasts sharply with Europe’s more rigid, unilateral stance—a posture that some argue exacerbates the war’s complexities rather than resolving them.
Europe’s Moment of Truth
Trump’s sidelining of Europe has laid bare a harsh reality: the continent struggles to navigate crises without US support. As America steps back, European nations are frantically cobbling together a coalition to bolster Ukraine independently. Yet, this scramble underscores a deeper truth—Europe’s on-again, off-again flirtation with strategic autonomy remains unresolved. Over three years of war, coupled with Trump’s disruptions, have thrust the continent into a familiar fog of indecision.
As Saudi Arabia and Türkiye broker peace in Ukraine, Europe’s waning influence signals a global shift toward Asia and the Middle East. Decoupling from NATO and the US may be Europe’s only shot at staying relevant—but can it muster the will and resources?
Europe’s challenge isn’t just about security; it’s about relevance. The economic and strategic epicentre has shifted toward Asia, eroding Europe’s once-formidable bargaining power. The rise of players like Saudi Arabia and Türkiye—nations adept at balancing ties with conflicting parties—highlights Europe’s diminishing traction. Strategic autonomy isn’t a luxury; it’s a necessity if Europe hopes to reclaim its voice in a multipolar world.
Achieving this means decoupling from the US and NATO—a daunting, long-term goal. It requires not just political will but also economic muscle and military cohesion, both of which Europe has struggled to muster. The CSDP and EU Global Strategy are steps forward, but they’re incomplete without a unified resolve to act independently. Macron’s army proposal, though visionary, remains a distant dream amid budgetary squabbles and divergent national interests.
In Sum
Strategic autonomy transcends defence—it’s about Europe’s place in a changing global order. The continent must move beyond reacting to crises and start shaping them. This shift demands introspection: Can Europe shed its Cold War baggage and embrace a proactive role? Or will it remain a junior partner, overshadowed by Asia’s dynamism and America’s unilateralism?
As Trump redraws the lines of global engagement, Europe faces a stark choice: pursue autonomy with purpose or risk fading into irrelevance. The perception of strategic autonomy has long outpaced its reality. Now, the clock is ticking for Europe to bridge that gap.
–The writer is an Independent Political Analyst and Researcher based in Vadodara. Follow him on Twitter: @NiranjanMarjani. The views expressed are of the writer and do not necessarily reflect the views of Raksha Anirveda
